Every kind of music translates to live performance in its own way. Classical music fosters introspection; the best performers lure each listener into him− or herself as the emotions become increasingly subject to the nuances of the piece. Rock and roll, on the other hand, thrives on the unity of the audience as it rises and falls to the whims of the band.
While classical music can drive its enthusiasts to the distilled heights of introversion, and rock can turn a mass of computer programmers into a raging mosh pit, neither can hope to compete with the sheer joy of a dance−fest. Nowhere were the delights of such an event more undeniable than last Friday at the House of Blues, when George Clinton and Parliament−Funkadelic brought the funk back to Boston.
The crowd's eagerness to dance was evident before the band even took the stage, as members of every imaginable scene, age and race grooved to the pre−show PA music with surprising zeal. Even the wimpiest bass line would send a ripple of impatient pivots and bobs through the audience. The stage, littered with a massive array of microphones, amps and keyboards, only heightened the fervency of the mood.
When the numerous musicians who compose Parliament finally took the stage, they barely had to play a note for the crowd to explode. Clinton himself was surprisingly absent until the third song of the set. Thankfully, a diaper−clad Garry Shider more than compensated for Clinton's eccentric stage presence. In the first song, the band revealed how well−rehearsed it was. Long, instrumental jams segued into ecstatic vocals with an improvisatory energy that projected past the careful arrangement of each passage.
When Clinton triumphantly took the stage during "Undisco Kidd," the crowd was already dancing too hard to give him its fullest applause. Though Clinton hardly sang during the song, his mere presence on the stage galvanized the group. His skills as a bandleader work in an almost sublime manner; one flick of his wrist was enough to drive a bassist to unprecedented levels of funkiness or coax a renewed intensity from a backup singer. As soon as he arrived, P−Funk's bandleader spurred the band into a more focused, unified energy that was immediately noticeable as the crowd dug deeper into its jovial boogie.
The intensity of P−Funk's performance was only matched by its eccentricity. For the uninitiated, the band's overriding bizarreness was confirmed numerous times throughout the show. The neon rainbow of Clinton's hair was vibrant enough to make a peacock jealous.
Monologues on funk spiritualism were scattered arbitrarily throughout the set, often preceding the appearance of Sir Nose (Carlos McMurray), the pimp−like antithesis of funk who serves as the protagonist in Clinton's strange story. With the aid of funky grooves and the "bop gun," Sir Nose turns from a funk−hating square to a dancing fiend. Even though the act did not add much to the concert musically, it gave the musicians a chance to show off their own personalities and add a humorous element to the show.
One of the highlights of the show was "Aqua Boogie," a more down−tempo song with an infectious bass line and suitably liquid vocals. This song featured a catchy horn passage, which saxophonist Greg Thomas and trumpeter Bennie Cowan played with impressive athleticism. In the middle, the song broke down into an extended scat solo by Thomas, who then proceeded to demonstrate his incendiary saxophone licks over the oscillating "wahs" of the rhythm section.
By the second half of the set, P−Funk began to show off its rock−band side. Clinton left the stage for the performance of "Maggot Brain," one of Funkadelic's most popular tracks. While the beginning of Michael Hampton's solo over the melancholy arpeggios was dynamic and punctual, it quickly devolved into a series of flaccid technical exercises.
After the cohesion of the group's previous songs, Hampton's overindulgent solo ruptured the flow of the show. Thankfully, the next song, a raw, edgy blues burner, was a return to form. P−Funk rapidly regained its momentum, playing a few more songs with the same level of energy. By the concert's conclusion, P−Funk was nearly outpacing the audience as it struggled to dance as hard as the band played.
