For those who have witnessed George Clinton leading his constantly evolving touring band under the amalgamated Parliament-Funkadelic umbrella, The Palais would warrant some apprehensions in terms of a suitable venue for an hours-long freak-out jam. Their last visit to Melbourne powered through to the early AM at 170 Russell, nearing closer to a four-hour running time. St Kilda’s iconic theatre wouldn’t afford an indeterminate close, with its strict 11PM curfew, along with signage denoting that standing wouldn’t be permitted at the seated venue.
The thunderous tom-roll of ‘Cosmic Slop’ herald stage entry. “There will be no sitting tonight,” we’re ordered. We oblige for the remainder of the evening. George himself saunters on the stage, dressed somewhere between regal and celestial. Throughout the 50-year history of P-funk, George has rarely tasked himself with musicianship. He’s the grand ringleader. The ultimate hype-man. He runs through a repertoire of easy to mimic dance moves, he shoves his vocal mic to the source of whoever’s soloing at the time, his septuagenarian face looking stunned at music’s wonder. He looks stunned, because he is stunned, half a century on.
No two P-funk setlists are the same. Tonight there’s a helping of material from Funkadelic’s 2014 comeback album First Ya Gotta Shake The Gate – ‘Ain’t That Funkin’ Kinda Hard On You?’ featuring George’s grandson Tra’zae replicating Kendrick Lamar’s guest bars, ‘Get Low’, and vocalist Brandi Scott removing her kitten-mascot headwear to sing ‘Meow Meow’. The newer material is serviceable but perhaps hogging the scales on a relatively truncated setlist.
The classics are here. ‘Up For The Down Stroke’ has a power undiminished by its four decades of existence. ‘One Nation Under A Groove’ has a mellow undercurrent that doesn’t shine in the theatre environment, while ‘(Not Just) Knee Deep’ is an invariable frenzy, as is ‘Give Up The Funk’. ‘Alice In My Fantasies’ pops up amongst the chorus-heavy crowd-pleasers to remind that Funkadelic have a strong case as heavy metal forebears. Eddie Hazel’s haunting ‘Maggot Brain’ solo breaks up the middle of the setlist, performed dutifully by Blackbyrd McKnight.
Parliament’s mythology (set to be rebooted for the first time since 1980 with an upcoming album rumoured to be produced by Flying Lotus) has enough lore to warrant a cinematic universe. Antagonist-turned-ally Sir Nose D’Voidoffunk emerges for ‘Flashlight’, played by Carlos McMurray, who is as flexible as his rig is chiselled, performing ouroboros handstands on speaker stacks after being zapped by George’s pantomimed bop gun.
George’s mega-influential solo hit ‘Atomic Dog’ closes the two-hour set. In terms of theatre performances, it felt special. In terms of p-funk performances, not as special as last Melbourne visit. But still, looking at George Clinton on stage, beaming amongst grandchildren of his own, and children of departed p-funk legends, it’s tempting to picture him as one of the greatest musical forces of this earth. There’s triumph here, bouncing back from crystal meth addiction at the turn of this decade, ditching the rainbow wig and tracksuits for resplendent attire. George Clinton certainly is one of the greatest musical forces in modern history, but it would be remiss to say he’s of this earth – he touched down on the mothership some time ago. We’re glad he’s sticking around.
Read our feature interview with George Clinton here.
Highlight: ‘Flashlight’.
Lowlight: It should be illegal for p-funk shows to have a curfew.
Crowd favourite: Sir Nose’s dextrous dance-off.
