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Books by Kalamu ya
Salaam
The Magic of JuJu: An Appreciation of the Black Arts
Movement /
360:
A Revolution of Black Poets
Everywhere Is Someplace Else: A Literary Anthology
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From A Bend in the River: 100 New Orleans Poets
Our Music Is No Accident /
What Is Life: Reclaiming the Black Blues Self
My Story My Song (CD)
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Parliament
Funkadelic—P-Funk
Music Commentary
by Kalamu ya Salaam
Do you wanna dance?
By the early seventies, the golden era of black
self-determination in the USA, every black person who
had half a brain was involved, in one way or another, at
actualizing black empowerment. Even those who were
opposed in principle to “black power” were engaged in
trying to mold America into a more egalitarian society
and thus even when integration was the goal, the
actualization of that goal demanded that blacks be
raised from a position of inferiority to equality.
On the cultural side, such activism created a climate in
which artists not only were socially and politically
involved in daily life but the general outlook became
one of reaching for the stars. We literally thought
everything was possible, if not today, surely by
tomorrow!
Today we know the sixties/seventies as a golden era of
black music: Motown, Atlantic, Blue Note, Prestige, Stax,
Philly International, Curtom, and bunches of smaller
independent record labels produced an unmatched
catalogue that remains a standard for today’s popular
music. One interesting wrinkle is the ascendancy of
Parliament/Funkadelic, bka P-Funk.
Prime P-Funk was literally a spin-off from 1. James
Brown, who was a kingdom unto his own superbad self, 2.
Motown, where George Clinton cut his musical teeth but
quickly departed, and 3. Jimi Hendrix, who brought the
screaming lead guitar to the forefront. Of course there
were other elements but those three are the foundation
and James Brown was both an influential musical
cornerstone as well as a direct source of
musicians—first it was bassist Bootsy Collins, and then
Maceo and Fred Wesley (who morphed into P-Funk’s “horny
horns”). James Brown was the progenitor of modern funk
and P-Funk was the perfection thereof.
You can call me Chinese because I was born in
interesting times. My birthdate is 24 March 1947. I was
active in the civil rights movement while in high
school: sitting-in (and getting arrested), picketing,
voter registration. By the seventies I was a delegate to
the sixth Pan African Congress in Dar es Salaam,
Tanzania in 1974; had led a delegation to the People
Republic of China in 1977; and was a member of a
Pan-African Nationalist organization, Ahidiana, that
operated an elementary school, and was active in
community organizing especially around police brutality.
When I was in my early twenties, black music was at its
highest overall level. From 1970 to 1983, I was the
editor of The Black Collegian magazine and
writing on the regular about the music, which included
writing and publishing over 100 interviews featuring a
wide range of black artists.
Indeed, I was present when the mothership first landed.
The premiere of that iconoclastic musical event was at
the Municipal Auditorium located, appropriately enough,
in New Orleans’ Congo Square. I was sitting in the first
balcony with an excellent view of the whole stage. When
they called down the mothership the first thing that
happened was a small model mothership attached to a wire
that “flew” from the back ceiling down to the stage. As
it passed overhead, I remember being underwhelmed—label
promo man Tom Vickers had promised me it would be a not
to be missed event. That small cardboard or tin foil or
whatever-it-was-made-of contraption hardly qualified.
The music was jamming but the special effects weren’t so
special. The model disappeared behind the stage curtain.
The band was whipping harder as if to make up for the
failure of the model mothership to wow the audience.
Then the dry ice smoke started, and lights starting
blinking, and HOLY SHIT GODDAMN . . . a big ass
spaceship started descending over the stage. I mean a
BIG ASS SPACESHIP. This wasn’t no play toy model
nothing. This was THE MOTHERSHIP.
At that point I wasn’t the only one jumping up,
screaming, and shaking my ass to the music. The whole
auditorium was throbbing. We could hardly believe our
eyes. Then they pushed this sixteen-or-so foot ladder up
to the mothership. Mind you the band has locked into a
fifth gear and the whole place was going ape-shit nuts.
Which is when the door on the spaceship slid open and a
sun-glasses-wearing George Clinton dressed in white fur
from head to toe stepped onto the ladder and just stood
there for what was probably no more than a couple of
minutes.
You know the Christian rapture belief that at the
appropriate time God is going to send a chariot of some
sort to collect the hundred-and-some thousand believers,
well this wasn’t Jesus but it was certainly a preview of
what it was going to feel like. By now we were all
delirious with joy. Certainly we had just been saved
from the blahs. From that point on, anything was
possible.
You ever saw a black man dressed in fluffy white descend
from on high? I don’t know how he did it in those
platform boots but my man’s swag was literally a strut.
And when he touched down on the stage the party was on
in full effect. I don’t remember what happened next. It
was sensory overload. I had just seen a spaceship land
and this wasn’t no unidentified flying object. This was
the mothership connection.
It is important to understand the collective unconscious
evidenced by the majority of blacks in the diaspora. We
all dream of flying. This was a soundtrack for our
deepest desires.
So this week’s Mixtape is an hour-and-a-half attempt to
replicate the sublime creative chaos of P-Funk at its
zenith, which was a collective of probably twenty-some
musicians, singers, dancers cavorting on the stage.
Throw away your damn watch. P-Funk was known to go until
morning light, literally. A P-Funk performance was a
potent mix of heavy funk, Hendrix inspired rock, and
gospel inflected vocals (including a chorus) garnished
by a running cosmic rap from Dr. Funkenstein.
This musical mélange was created live, in real time,
right before your very eyes, straight on into your
earhole. A P-Funk concert was damn near a religious
experience.
In the eighties and the nineties there were attempts to
recapture the P-Funk experience but the times had
changed. Yes, the notes and the beats could be
replicated but the collective consciousness was not
there so the music didn’t feel the same because in fact
the heads in the audience were not in the same place.
Many, many commentators on the music miss the importance
of the audience and the consciousness of that audience.
Transcendental music requires people who ready to rise
up and while there will always be small pockets of
people ready to take a trip, prime time P-Funk happened
when whole communities were ready ride.
The general community consciousness is the missing
ingredient but the cycle will return. That is the way
life has always been. Ebbs and flows. Ups and downs.
Listen to the last track on the Mixtape and you will
hear the instructions. Swing down sweet chariot. Stop
and let me ride…
To be continued. Surely . . .
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Responses
what came first?
Sun Ra’s Mothership or Parliment's? I was surprised when
I rented "Space Is the Place" from Netflix and saw the
spaceship motif in that movie.—Marian
sun ra was before
p-funk BUT in an interview with george clinton, clinton
told me that he was not aware of sun ra and that jimi
hendrix was his inspiration. if you listen to axis bold
as love there is a direct reference to space travel and
that some of us came from other places to earth. what is
interesting however is that i speculate that although
clinton was unaware of sun ra, jimi hendrix probably was
quite aware of sun ra. initially, i felt like you seem
to feel: p-funk seems like a natural outgrowth of sun ra,
especially with the outer space motifs and the costumes,
the dancing, the large aggregations on stage, playing
for hours, etc. but i have since come to believe that
all of that and more of that are simply individual
manifestations of a larger, shared african-diaspora
heritage. sun ra used to sing: suppose we came not from
africa but to africa! i’m saying p-funk, jimi hendrix,
sun ra—all of that is just memories from/of home, a
different way of life than what currently dominates
planet earth… we now return you to . . .—
Kalamu
Source:
Breath of Life
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P-Funk Live Mixtape
Playlist
Live: P
Funk Earth Tour
01 “Dr Funkenstein”
02 “Tear The Roof Off The Sucker Medley”
03 “Dr. Funkenstein’s
Supergroovalisticprosifunkstication Medley”
04 “Comin’ Round The Mountain”
Live 1976-93 (out of print)
05 “Cosmic Slop”
06 “It Ain’t Illegal Yet”
07 “Funkentelechy” |
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08 “Into You”
09 “Aquaboogie”
10 “Children Of Production”
11 “Mothership Connection”
Source:
Breath
of Life
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P-Funk WeFunk
By Kalamu ya Salaam
One of the numerous secret ingredients
of P-Funk was an intentional subversive edge: conceptually, sonically, and
semantically.
They often cursed just for the funk of it, knowing that gleeful invectives
separated P-Funk from those who were looking for cross-over success.
The sound was grimy, unclean, full of counter-voicings: spontaneous
outbursts pushed into the foreground of the mix; smooth voices colliding
with rough-hewn hollers and drug-induced giggles, although they were serious
they didn’t take themselves too seriously.
Their matrix was the creativity that emerged from chaos. Happenstance
kissing intentionality was their credo. One could contemplate a lyric for
hours only to realize they were just funking around. This was music inspired
by a trickster muse.
Instead of seeking the purity of an unadulterated sound, they reveled in the
neo-African aesthetic, i.e. embrace life in the full funkiness of creation,
a fullness that included up, down, all around, and all in between, meaning
everything-at-the-same-time rather than one-at-a-time-thing-ism.
Which all you could see in the montage of the spectacles that were their
concerts. (Which one is George Clinton?) Make no mistake, they intended to
be stimulus overload. After experiencing them, you left with a shitload of
ideas you never knew you had. Who knows what’s inside the unopened doors of
your mind? P-Funk was exploratory sonic surgery.
The downside of a freaky approach to business was that the centre not only
could not hold, shit didn’t just fall apart, the whole thing imploded.
Ironically, P-Funk ate itself. George not only lost control, he lost
ownership possession of the music. Clinton did not mind his wants and paid
the cost when he found out that a bunch of suits wanted more than his mind.
As advanced capitalism always does, their ultimate tactic was the co-opting
of everything including the fruits of anti-capitalist production.
The lesson is simple: it’s ok to funk around but don’t neglect to take care
of business. Admittedly, minding the bottom line is an admonition that is
difficult to follow when you’re having fun, but if we don’t, we’ll find
ourselves fleeced by the money-lovers who never sleep.
At one point Clinton looked like he had the upper hand on the industry with
multiple-contracts and worldwide tour opportunities. Everybody wanted to
taste the funk. And, indeed, although P-Funk produced enough funk to keep
the world dancing for decades, we still have to deal with the devil in the
details of legalities and deals done with unscrupulous demons who can’t
dance but whose technical footwork will kick your ass. (If you don’t
understand what I’m alluding to, go Google George Clinton and publishing,
but be prepared to witness some discouragingly ugly shit including George’s
shortcomings, addictions, and gross missteps.)
Fortunately, the gift of funk offers far more than anyone can take from it.
This Mixtape is three hours of funk; three hours but still only a dip in the
P-Funk ocean of sounds. This Mixtape is not a full retrospective, or even a
complete catalogue of hits. Instead this is a selection of studio recordings
designed to temporarily satisfy our life-long cravings to get down on the
one (yes, I know, some of us don’t even know we have funky urges; doesn’t
matter, our bodies feel things that our minds have yet to perceive).
Funk first of all appeals to the feelings. You ain’t got to fully understand
rhythm in order to dance. If your heart is beating, you are inclined to
respond to funky rhythms. So enjoy this potent dose of P-Funk medicinal
musings.
A word to the wise and those who want to know more, here’s what’s missing:
1. A healthy selection of pre-Chocolate City jams when it was mostly
Funkadelic at their freakiest. 2. Almost all the songs directly associated
with the mothership connection—we covered a lot of them last week with the
live selections. 3. Everything after “Atomic Dog” including remixes, solo
George Clinton, and post-nineties P-Funk. (I guess you can tell there is
probably another P-Funk Mixtape to come.)
BTW, a word about nomenclature: P-Funk, which originally referred to a
combination of Parliament and Funkadelic, is short-hand for the
conglomeration of artists and styles that brought the funk. Parliament
refers the the R&B, vocal side of the funk and Funkadelic is an emphasis on
the rock, instrumental side, except there is a lot of seepage and
cross-fertilization so that you can’t aesthetically separate these two
elements because they are both integral and entwined to the concept of
getting down on the one. In a similar manner, like life, this music is both
silly and serious at the same time—so funk it! Go ahead and enjoy yourself
but don’t injure yourself. Peace. Love. & Have a funky good time.
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posted 7 October 2010
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music website >
http://www.kalamu.com/bol/
writing website >
http://wordup.posterous.com/
daily blog >
http://kalamu.posterous.com
twitter >
http://twitter.com/neogriot
facebook >
http://www.facebook.com/kalamu.salaam
Guarding the Flame of Life
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Sister Citizen: Shame, Stereotypes, and Black Women in
America
By Melissa V.
Harris-Perry
According to the
author, this society has historically exerted
considerable pressure on black females to fit into one
of a handful of stereotypes, primarily, the Mammy, the
Matriarch or the Jezebel. The selfless
Mammy’s behavior is marked by a slavish devotion to
white folks’ domestic concerns, often at the expense of
those of her own family’s needs. By contrast, the
relatively-hedonistic Jezebel is a sexually-insatiable
temptress. And the Matriarch is generally thought of as
an emasculating figure who denigrates black men, ala the
characters Sapphire and Aunt Esther on the television
shows Amos and Andy and Sanford and Son, respectively.
Professor Perry
points out how the propagation of these harmful myths
have served the mainstream culture well. For instance,
the Mammy suggests that it is almost second nature for
black females to feel a maternal instinct towards
Caucasian babies.
As for the source
of the Jezebel, black women had no control over their
own bodies during slavery given that they were being
auctioned off and bred to maximize profits. Nonetheless,
it was in the interest of plantation owners to propagate
the lie that sisters were sluts inclined to mate
indiscriminately.
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A Wreath for Emmett Till
By Marilyn Nelson; Illustrated by
Philippe Lardy
This memorial to
the lynched teen is in the Homeric
tradition of poet-as-historian. It is a
heroic crown of sonnets in Petrarchan
rhyme scheme and, as such, is quite
formal not only in form but in language.
There are 15 poems in the cycle, the
last line of one being the first line of
the next, and each of the first lines
makes up the entirety of the 15th. This
chosen formality brings distance and
reflection to readers, but also calls
attention to the horrifically ugly
events. The language is highly
figurative in one sonnet, cruelly
graphic in the next. The illustrations
echo the representative nature of the
poetry, using images from nature and
taking advantage of the emotional
quality of color. There is an
introduction by the author, a page about
Emmett Till, and literary and poetical
footnotes to the sonnets. The artist
also gives detailed reasoning behind his
choices. This underpinning information
makes this a full experience, eminently
teachable from several aspects,
including historical and literary—School
Library Journal |
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The White Masters of the
World
From
The World and Africa, 1965
By W. E. B. Du Bois
W. E. B. Du Bois’
Arraignment and Indictment of White Civilization
(Fletcher)
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Ancient African Nations
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If you like this page consider making a donation
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Negro Digest /
Black World
Browse all issues
1950
1960
1965
1970
1975
1980
1985
1990
1995
2000
____ 2005
Enjoy!
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The Death of Emmett Till by Bob Dylan
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The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll
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Only a Pawn in Their Game
Rev. Jesse Lee Peterson Thanks America for
Slavery /
George Jackson /
Hurricane Carter
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The Journal of Negro History issues at Project Gutenberg
The
Haitian Declaration of Independence 1804
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January 1, 1804 -- The Founding of
Haiti
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update 29 March 2012
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