We can all agree that the Black Eyed Peas' "My Humps" is the worst song ever written; it may actually represent the nadir of human achievement. Thinking about it brings an irrepressible desire to drive steel spikes into my ears and lament what may be the death of music. Sadly enough, for all of commercial hiphop's appeal, energy, and promise, it's sometimes easy to forget that it ever offered anything beyond drool-inducing nonsense.
But just when I think about ending it all and devoting my life to Belle & Sebastian, two of music's most seditious party rockers come to town in the same week to prove that not all popular (or once-popular) music is disposable. In the '70s, Parliament-Funkadelic laid the foundation for nearly all electro-funk and hiphop to come. Digital Underground, though relative newcomers (they began in 1987), are groundbreakers who helped reinvigorate the P-Funk sound at a time when it was all but forgotten.
Both groups will feature impressive theatrics, ridiculous amounts of marijuana, and grown adults onstage wearing full-on man-diapers. But the relationship between these two troupes doesn't stop there. If not for P-Funk, "The Humpty Dance" might have ended up sampling Frank Zappa or something. Millions of clubbers might've been bobbing their heads to some bearded dude playing a vacuum cleaner instead of the most memorable, bouncy loop of all time.
So what alignment of stars and planets allows Seattle to be graced by two of the greatest party acts of all time in the same week? It's no secret that Mr. Clinton has gotten a little long in the tooth. He has been communing with the funky aliens for nearly 50 years, and the red crystal in his palm has started to pulse. It's time for him to pass the mic and make his run. Who better to take the mothership's reins than Humpty Hump? (Who, in a shocking turn of events, also happens to be Shock-G! My mind is blown!)
But maybe George isn't ready to give up the funk. Rumor has it the two groups are meeting in Seattle and pooling their resources for a record-setting shipment of super-dank BC nugs directly from the personal stash of Neil Young. Then again, my dealer told me that baggie wasn't filled with baking soda, and that turned out to be a lie, too.
On the subject of fictional drugs, Humpty Hump, in a streak of marketing genius, got a boatload of PR by fabricating press releases about a hot new orgasm-inducing street drug called "Sex Packets." It's possible that George Clinton's granddaughter, the notorious Sativa Diva, still unaware the drug was a myth, demanded that Gramps take the band to Seattle so she could score.
Sex packets aside, I heard from my agent that the next season of The Surreal Life is casting. The cast is rumored to include Emilio Estevez, Kate Moss, Billy Corgan, and the singer from Death Cab. But the producers are looking for one more colorful character to round out the family. George Clinton and Shock-G both got the casting call and booked shows as part of their auditions. Good luck, fellas.
Seem far-fetched? Perhaps. There is also the off chance that Jeremy Piven decided to celebrate his humble beginnings by reuniting the cast of PCU for an epic reenactment of the frat-party finale, which P-Funk rocked. Where do DU fit in? My theory is that Shock-G is secretly the dude from Swingers, who played Gutter in PCU. It all starts to make sense.
Regardless, this week both acts will fly their freak flags in Seattle, and party like it's 1969 or 1989, respectively. But more importantly, P-Funk and Digital Underground will be showing hiphop's magic-rainbow side, challenging you to forget what you know about record deals and reality itself, and bring the party to outer space. George Clinton says, "Think—it ain't illegal yet." Mainstream musicians should take email@example.com