A blog for members of the Journalism 4551 class at the University of Minnesota.
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Monday, February 09, 2004

Well, the extended funk section of last night's Grammys was pretty boring for me, and I thought Samuel Jackson's prolonged introductions were just sad. He kept looking at the tele-prompter and looking distracted (maybe he needed more training). It just exposed the whole "Reverend/Church of Funk" (not to be confused with this or this) thing for what it was: scripted.
Anyway, the interesting thing is, as I was watching 64-year-old George Clinton grumpily demanding the funk, I wondered where his strong desire came from.
It turns out he got his start singing in a barbershop quintet in Plainfield New Jersey. Not very funky. Before that he was, of course, a barber (OK, actually he just straightened hair, but whatever).
I'm not a huge fan, but I think Clinton's 1996 album, T.A.P.O.A.F.O.M. (the awesome power of a fully operational mothership), is worth a look.
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