The weight of our the times surely has had an impact on funk icon George Clinton.
The passing of collaborator Bernie Worrell, funk contemporaries David Bowie and Prince, fusion jazz legend Larry Coryell and competitor Maurice White ( Clinton called his band "Dirt, hot air, and no fire" )—most of them unexpected—in the last 12 months had to have forced him to face his own mortality. ( Clinton is 75. ) With the sudden appearance of a president who has managed to divide the country and trample civil rights, Clinton's positive anthem "One Nation Under A Groove" now seems like a hippy dippy day dream.
As evidenced by his sold-out show at Thalia Hall on Feb. 19, Clinton's response to all that could best be summed up by the lapel pin one of his singers wore: "Fuck That Shit!!!"
Now celebrating 45 years as an entity, Clinton's funk empire, Parliament/Funkadelic ( with offshoots Parlet, Bootsy Collins and The Brides of Funkenstein ) broke boundaries by fusing soul, funk, disco, acid jazz, hard rock and the avant-garde into a heady, goofy, joyful mix that remains potent to this day. This time around there were no science fiction trappings, no landing of "The Holy Mother Ship," and no grown men dressed in diapers and they weren't missed. This stripped-down show, with its army of vocalists and guitarists ( I counted 18 people onstage ), was all about the music and vibe.
Never mind that Clinton spent half his time in an armchair while his entourage grabbed the spotlight. He and his rowdy audience seemed content when he popped out of that chair, conducted the whole assemblage like a reincarnated Sun Ra, and blew raspberries at the crowd. For a show that clocked in at a tight two and a half hours, Clinton managed to run through four decades of searing funk with nary an edit. The hits and standards were all here ( "One Nation Under A Groove," "Cholly ( Funk Getting Ready to Roll )," "Tear the Roof off the Sucker," "Flashlight," "Maggot Brain," "Up for the Down Stroke," "Atomic Dog" ) but really it hardly mattered what he played but how he played it. Unlike so many other performers from a bygone era, Clinton coaxed passion and fire from his army with such precision that these old songs sounded arresting and brisk.
What gave the night more than a touch of magic was that Clinton didn't merely run through a set list, he demonstrated why he is an icon in the first place. His non-stop dancing audience responded to all that by following Clinton's orders to "get off your ass and jam."
On a far more intimate note, Hamilton Leithauser hit Lincoln Hall on February 15 for a sold out show to promote last falls I Had A Dream that You Were Mine ( Glassnote Records ). After seven albums as the vocalist for The Walkmen where Leithauser demonstrated that he has one of the finest voices in current rock, his solo recordings reveal a predilection for collaborators who bring as much to the mix as he does. This time out it was ex-Vampire Weekend producer and out musician Rostam Batmanglij ( the new album is actually credited to Hamilton Leithauser + Rostam ), and the combination elevates Leithauser to a new level.
"Rough Going ( I Won't Let Go )" is a nice, gently rollicking mid-tempo pop song sprinkled with Batmanglij's piano tinkling and Leithauser gives it a joyful, measured reading. That all works until the corniest cliché imaginable pops up in the chorus and nearly yanks the listener out of the moment ( ..."then the lights came up and our eyes locked together." ). Fortunately, that's as sticky as it gets, and the CD features two songs that are so enthralling that they allow forgiveness.
The First, "A Thousand Times," is a scruffy slow-burner so graceful, dramatic and compelling that it shows Leithauser and Batmanglij to be in a class of their own. Leithauser's sandpaper rasp recalls Bonnie Tyler and early Rod Stewart, with the warmth and soulfulness of Van Morrison. Instead of singing the bejesus out of it ( which Stewart and Tyler would have done ), he punches it across with restraint, yearning, and measured energy. The closer for the album—"1959," a duet with Angel Deradooian—wafts on a breeze and threatens to blow right out again, except for Leithauser anchoring it with the most heartfelt and patient singing on the album.
If I Had A Dream That You Were Mine offered proof that Leithauser and Batmanglij are a partnership made in heaven, the show at Lincoln Hall merely confirmed the fact. Opening with "A Thousand Times," which he delivered with coiled restraint, Leithauser plunged through much of the new CD. Granted, Batmanglij was not part of the show ( he hates touring ) but his presence on "I Retired," "You Ain't that Young Kid," a careful "In a Black Out," and a humorous reading of "The Bride's Dad" had his fingerprints all over it.
Heads up: Tickets for queer duo PWR BTM's show at Subterranean on May 10 are sold out, while tickets remain for Perfume Genius at Lincoln Hall on May 25.
