I've been on the Parliament-Funkadelic mothership for a little while now, but the chariot has been swinging especially low since the Carrboro record show last weekend. I can't seem to get them out of my head. Could be related to the impending triple whammy of graduation/marriage/new job, a future which seems so strange and otherworldly as to cause psychedelic things in my head. And that always goes best with serious ass-shaking.
Biological Speculation from Mike Control on Vimeo.
Also at play is the coming of spring, as exemplified by this fine knockout Piedmont Thursday. Being a southern boy raised on album-oriented rock stations, I associate searing steel guitar with sunny days, so this track from Funkadelic's 1972 album America Eats Its Young is doing me right. I love the song title. What is he speculating about?
I'm fascinated by musicians that are workaholics, especially when they're as far out as the funk mob. Can you believe George Clinton made 20 albums in the 70s alone?