The final album issued before Parliament temporarily disbanded. Clinton's empire was being besieged, and while he didn't completely lose his gifts, the impact could be heard on the album. The spontaneity, bizarre comic wit and wisdom, as well as the production and arranging greatness, weren't as evident. There were no epic jams, classic satirical numbers, or magnificent message tracks. Instead, it was more a worthy goodbye, one that fortunately hasn't been final. ~ Ron Wynn, All Music Guide
By this point Parliament was one of the most accomplished and intelligent bands in music. With albums like Mothership Connection and The Clones of Dr. Funkenstein, George Clinton's druggy and patently eccentric humor often obscured the enviable musicianship throughout. Motor Booty Affair is no doubt another classic album and the perfect follow-up to 1977's Funkentelechy Vs. the Placebo Syndrome. On Motor Booty Affair, Clinton decides to yuck it up more with a great underwater concept and a few of his stronger alter egos, including the rhythmically challenged Sir Nose D' Void of Funk and his friend Rumpofsteelskin. The deft and airy "Mr. Wiggles" has Clinton taking on the persona of Wiggles, the "DJ of the affair" as he says: "Mr. Wiggles here on roller skates and a yo-yo/Acting a fool." The hypnotic "Rumpofsteelskin" has a great bassline and inventive and infectious background vocals. The closest thing to a ballad here is the astrologically savvy "(You're a Fish and I'm A) Water Sign." The well-produced "Aqua Boogie (A Psychoalphadiscobetabioaquadoloop)" with its handclaps and high-pitched basslines basically set the standards for the sound of R&B in the coming decade. The sleeper of the album, "One of Those Funky Things," is filled with timbales, congas, and Bernie Worrell's great synth signatures. The last track, "Deep," has great, understated riffs from the Horny Horns. Although many Parliament efforts can't be fully appreciated unless the whole catalogue is nearby, Motor Booty Affair stands on its own merits and sustains the laugh throughout. ~ Jason Elias, All Music Guide
Although at the time this album was viewed as a disaster, there has been some critical reassessment in the past years. It was certainly not as inspired, brilliantly executed or memorable as any one of many 1970s Parliament or Funkadelic gems, but it did have its own humorous/bizarre outlook. Clinton was being torn in many directions and plagued by money problems, so he didn't give it the attention it probably needed. Still, it deserves a revisit by Clinton fans who tossed it aside in disgust the first time around. ~ Ron Wynn, All Music Guide
Parliament simply poured it on for this amazing album, clearly one of its all-time best. At least one band named itself after a lyric -- Urge Overkill, taken from the song "Funkentelechy" itself -- while the amount of times this album has been sampled for the music is uncountable. Besides having an absolutely wonderful name, it contained at least three of the finest Parliament tunes ever, including arguably its signature song. "Flash Light," which closes Funkentelechy on a riotous high, has it all -- a brilliant fake ending, instant singalong value, a synth-bassline to kill for from Bernie Worrell, and so much more. As the album ends, so too does it begin, with a stone-cold classic -- "Bop Gun (Endangered Species)." Starting with a brisk little guitar figure and beat, it turns into an instant party on all fronts, with great lead vocals and an addictive chorus, the Horny Horns and company hitting the grooves and blasting hard. Worrell's laser noises and shimmering keyboard leads and Cordell Mosson's monster bass squelches send everything all that much more over the top. Another song title says it all -- "Sir Nose D'Voidoffunk (Pay Attention -- B3M)." Treated with vocoders to an absurd degree, Sir Nose became the legendary enemy of funk, specifically the Starchild, on many a P-Funk recording (that's the two of them on the hilarious cover, the Starchild himself operating the Bop Gun). The throwaway lines in this song are almost legendary in and of themselves, while the music itself is a great slow build and burn rhythm that piles more on as it goes, with singers, horns, and more taking it to a climax. "Funkentelechy" and "The Placebo Syndrome" both have plenty of goodness as well, while "Wizards of Finance" is an amusing retro diversion, helping make Funkentelechy the highlight it is. ~ Ned Raggett, All Music Guide
The only officially released in-concert Parliament-Funkadelic album, Live: P-Funk Earth Tour captures George Clinton and company at their peak in 1977, compiling recordings of a couple shows (January 19 at the Los Angeles Forum and January 21 at the Oakland Coliseum). The double-LP/single-CD album can't do justice to the group's extravagant theatrics, most memorably the landing of the mothership, but it's a wonderful showcase for their musical ability and their catalog of great songs, most of which come from the 1976 albums Mothership Connection and The Clones of Dr. Funkenstein. No performance was ever the same for these guys, and that's a major aspect of this album's entertainment value, for it's interesting to compare these live performances to their studio counterparts. Of particular note are the 15-minute extended performance of "Dr. Funkenstein" and the three-minute montage "Landing (Of the Holy Mothership)." Though unessential, Live: P-Funk Earth Tour is worth investigating for anyone curious about the Parliament-Funkadelic live experience and is a welcome alternative to the many bootlegs and latter-day P-Funk All Stars live recordings that have circulated over the years. ~ Jason Birchmeier, All Music Guide
The definitive Parliament-Funkadelic album, Mothership Connection is where George Clinton's revolving band lineups, differing musical approaches, and increasingly thematic album statements reached an ideal state, one that resulted in enormous commercial success as well as a timeless legacy that would be compounded by hip-hop postmodernists, most memorably Dr. Dre on his landmark album The Chronic (1992). The musical lineup assembled for Mothership Connection is peerless: in addition to keyboard wizard Bernie Worrell; Bootsy Collins, who plays not only bass but also drums and guitar; the guitar trio of Gary Shider, Michael Hampton, and Glen Goins; and the Becker brothers (Michael and Randy) on horns; there are former J.B.'s Fred Wesley and Maceo Parker (also on horns), who were the latest additions to the P-Funk stable. Besides the dazzling array of musicians, Mothership Connection boasts a trio of hands-down classics -- "P-Funk (Wants to Get Funked Up)," "Mothership Connection (Star Child)," "Give Up the Funk (Tear the Roof off the Sucker)" -- that are among the best to ever arise from the funk era, each sampled and interpolated time and time again by rap producers; in particular, Dr. Dre pays homage to the former two on The Chronic (on "The Roach" and "Let Me Ride," respectively). The remaining four songs on Mothership Connection are all great also, if less canonical. Lastly, there's the overlapping outer-space theme, which ties the album together into a loose escapist narrative. There's no better starting point in the enormous P-Funk catalog than Mothership Connection, which, like its trio of classic songs, is undoubtedly among the best of the funk era. ~ Jason Birchmeier, All Music Guide
Come 1976, and Parliament got up to its usual tricks in that particular incarnation -- right down to opening backwards-masked vocal weirdness plus sci-fi scenarios in the "Prelude," where "funk is its own reward." With Bernie Worrell and Fred Wesley splitting the horn arrangements and Clinton and Bootsy Collins taking care of the rest, the result is a concept album of sorts you can dance to. The clones get up and do their thing throughout, and if it's not The Wall, then that's all to its benefit. The immediate downside of Clones is that it's a fairly one-note record -- every groove can just about be exchanged for any other one, unlike the wider variety apparent on other releases. Given Clinton and company's sheer work rate, something likely had to give and this is one of the stress points. There are a couple of stronger songs -- "I've Been Watching You (Move Your Sexy Body)" is classic slow jam territory. Not exactly Barry White, but hearing Parliament tone it down just enough pays off, especially with Worrell's drowsy, sensuous horn charts. "Funkin' for Fun," meanwhile, brings the album to a strong, lively end, with just enough in the call-and-response vocals and horns to spark some extra energy into the proceedings. As is the case with most mid- to late-'70s Parliament, things may not be as deep as what was done as Funkadelic, but only those who always explicitly value lyrical worth have any cause to complain. Listening to the silly squeals and burbles on "Dr. Funkenstein" itself is pure fun with sound, while the good doctor's speech is scientific craziness. As one voice says out of nowhere, "Kiss me on my ego!" Special bonus -- the utterly goofball cover photo, one of P-Funk's best. ~ Ned Raggett, All Music Guide
Parliament's second album for Casablanca, following Up for the Down Stroke (1974), Chocolate City isn't one of the group's better-known albums. Unlike its predecessor and successive albums such as Mothership Connection (1976), it lacks a signature hit; even though the title track and "Ride On" charted as singles, they're minor in comparison to definitive classics such as "Up for the Down Stroke" and "Give Up the Funk (Tear the Roof Off the Sucker)." Though it's not one of the better-known Parliament albums, Chocolate City is nonetheless one of their best and perhaps most underrated. There's a wealth of musical talent to be heard here -- most notably Bootsy Collins, Bernie Worrell, and Eddie Hazel -- and an emphasis on horns and harmony vocals. Plus, there's no overarching narrative as there would be on successive albums, occasionally to a fault. Instead, this is a collection of stand-alone songs, none topping the six-minute mark. Regardless of its lack of signature hits, Chocolate City is a Parliament album that shouldn't be overlooked. ~ Jason Birchmeier, All Music Guide
Kicking off with one of prime funk's purest distillations -- the outrageously great title track, with a perfect party chorus line and uncredited horns (presumably the Horny Horns were involved somehow) adding to the monster beat and bass -- Up for the Down Stroke finds Parliament in rude good health. As was more or less the case through the '70s, Parliament took a slightly more listener-friendly turn here than they did as Funkadelic, but often it's a difference by degrees. Just listening to some of Bernie Worrell's insane keyboard parts or Bootsy Collins' bass work here is enough to wake the dead. As always, Worrell in particular can suddenly surprise with his delicacy -- the soft, understated flow of "I Just Got Back" may have lyrics that could be sung by Jon Anderson, at least at points, but the piano lines have subtle, dreamy grace, the antithesis of Rick Wakeman's masturbations. For that matter, Peter Chase's whistles are downright delightful, goofy, and sweet all at once. Slightly more oddball is "All Your Goodies Are Gone," which has a bit more upfront bite and some downright strange lyrics, delivered with a stoned, breathless tone and backed by unearthly choir arrangements. Eddie Hazel is still listed as present and contributing, though unfortunately not for long after, with Ron Bykowski, Gary Shider, and William Nelson also chipping in as needed. Hazel co-writes two of the songs; it's a pity "The Goose" runs out of steam toward the midpoint of its nine minutes, but it makes for pleasant background music if not Parliament at its unfettered best. In the meantime, Clinton and various familiar voices like Fuzzy Haskins and Grady Thomas keep the weird wigginess of the lyrics flowing. In a nod to the group's past, "(I Wanna) Testify," here simply called "Testify," gets a 1974-era work over. ~ Ned Raggett, All Music Guide
The first Parliament album as such was a mixed-up mess of an affair -- but would anyone expect anything less? The overall sound is much more Funkadelic than later Parliament, if with a somewhat more accessible feel. Things get going with an appropriately leering start, thanks to "I Call My Baby Pussycat," which makes something like "What's New, Pussycat?" seem like innocent, chaste conversation. After a stripped-down start, things explode into a full-on funk strut with heavy-duty guitar and slamming drums setting the way, while the singers sound like they're tripping without losing the soul -- sudden music dropouts, vocal cut-ins, volume level tweaks, and more add to the off-kilter feeling. Osmium's sound progresses from there -- it's funk's fire combined with a studio freedom that feels like a blueprint for the future. Bernie Worrell's keyboard abilities are already clear, whether he's trying for hotel lounge jams or full freakiness; similarly, Eddie Hazel is clearly finding his own epic stoned zone to peel out some amazing solos at the drop of a hat. As for the subject matter and end results -- who else but this crew could have come up with the trash-talking, yodeling twang of "Little Ole Country Boy" in 1970 and still made it funky with all the steel guitar? Other fun times include the piano and vocal-into-full-band goofy romantic romp of "My Automobile" and "Funky Woman," where over a heavy groove (and goofy Worrell break) the titular character lives with the consequence of her stank: "She hung them in the air/The air said this ain't fair!" Amidst all the nuttiness, there are some perhaps surprising depths -- consider "Oh Lord, Why Lord/Prayer," which might almost be too pretty for its own good (Worrell's harpsichord almost verges on the sickly sweet) but still has some lovely gospel choir singing and heartfelt lyrics. ~ Ned Raggett, All Music Guide