Clinton and co. funk Cradle, mothas

There's not much better than a truly funky show. If the music makes you shake everything you've got, then it has everything you need.

For the past 30 years, one of the best sources for satisfying grooves and uncut funk has been George Clinton and Parliament Funkadelic, who threw down four hours of music at Cat's Cradle last Thursday night.

The concert, which was announced only a few weeks before Sept. 23, attracted an eclectic audience. Fans ranged from middle-aged folk who loved Parliament when they first came to light in the '70s, to college kids who have admired George Clinton since his cameo in "PCU."

Parliament came out and got the crowd going with a "We Want the Funk" chant, which is possibly the most involved a Cradle audience has ever been.

The first two songs in the set were all P-Funk, led by lead guitarist DeWayne "Blackbyrd" McKnight, who was wearing a diaper made from a towel. That man in a diaper can lead a band, and quite well.

Thirty minutes into the show, George Clinton strolled onto the stage, in all his multi-colored-dreaded-crazy-haired glory. He got the groove where he wanted it, then layered in Lil John's "Get Low."

The popular song became a recurring, and after awhile somewhat tiring, theme throughout the night.

In any case, Clinton and Parliament proceeded to turn that motha out.

Through a medley of old P-Funk songs including "Make My Funk the P-Funk," followed by a twenty-minute rendition of "Flashlight," Clinton showed off the hoss power of Parliament, a group that in past years has included such funk mainstays as James Brown saxman Maceo Parker.

Horn players Greg Thomas (sax) and Bennie Cowan (trumpet) blew solos of a variety that look other horn players in the eye and demand that they make them a sandwich.

It was impressive.

Other members of note include six-string bassist Lige Curry and vocalist Steve Boyd. Boyd's voice is smooth and strong, and it was difficult to see Curry's lightning fingers move over the strings,

Equally impressive is the sheer number of people that Parliament always, always has with them on tour. The final tally for the show: 24.

No other musical outfit, outside of a big band or classical orchestra, can get away with cycling that many people on the stage.

And only Parliament can do it with funny outfits.

Throughout the set, Clinton led his band between funky classics, chilled-out blue grooves for his female vocalists to sing over, and raucous, acid-y rhythm section jams.

At one point, Clinton left the stage for half an hour while his guitarists, bass and drums hammered out winding solos on the song "Maggot Brain."

Toward the three-hour mark, the whole setup, including Dr. Funkenstein (Clinton), came back out to tear the roof off that sucka - old-school style.

They called out connections to James Brown, and let loose a medley of '50s doo-wop, including Jerry Lee Lewis' "Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On."

And yes, George Clinton did do the twist. He looked right happy doing it, too.

In fact, Clinton looked elated throughout the entire show. He doesn't take an overtly active role in the music, sort of intermittently yelling things to get the audience going.

Clinton is more of the referee for the band than the lead vocalist he is ticketed as, controlling the flow of the performance and keeping levels where he wants them.

Much of the audience didn't make it through the whole Springstein-length four-hour set, but those who stayed were into it. Everybody was funkin' that don't know how. Funkin' to the happy music.

George Clinton is still the man. Parliament is still one of the tightest bands in the business. Their show is still one of the most engaging you can find. Their lyrics still don't make a damn bit of sense.

Make my funk the P-Funk. I want to get funked up.

Contact the A&E Editor at artsdesk@unc.edu.