GC

No, not my thoughts on the Giro d'Italia General Classification although I suspect that that's about to hot up as they hit the hills the race having not erupted on the climb up Mount Etna. Don't blame me for that joke it's been a standard one on the coverage all week. For non cycling buffs top of GC is the maglia rosa or pink jersey similar to the yellow jersey in le Tour i.e. first placed rider. Anyways this isn't about that GC but the first placed man in funk who I'm sure has worn a few pink jerseys and certainly has had hair braids of every colour sported by cycling teams. Especially the dayglo team colours. Mr George Clinton. Debbie and I meet for a drink beforehand with Beckie and Simon catching the last 30 minutes of The Arsenal outplaying those dirty Stoke footballers (I won't call them players) with Ramsey bravely putting himself about and in the thick of it despite Shawcross who broke his leg so badly in a vicious deliberate tackle 7 years ago. And he's their bloody captain. Just shows the ambition they have. Kick the shit out of everyone and stay mid table. With managers like Pulis and Hughes what can you expect. And that bollocks about him "not being that sort of player". Bullshit. Whilst I'm ranting how come Fat Sam Allardyce is lauded cos he's never been relegated. I though the idea was to win things not just not get relegated. OK whilst I'm on the subject Liverpool's win at West Ham has firmly shut the lid on 4th place and although we'll win the FA Cup by beating Chelski's money it's definitely time for Wenger to bow out. Although, as my son Jack says, it'll be nice to win some European silverware next season when we get our hands on the Europa League Cup. Been too long. In fact a year before Jack was born (the old Cup Winners Cup) and he was born about 36 hours after we lost the next final to Nayim's half way line lob. Talking of (ex) Spurs (players) I bet they have an open top bus ride round the nether reaches of the Seven Sisters Road celebrating coming above their better north London rivals for the first time in god knows how long. Mind the gap my arse. Anyhows I'm sure that those wanting to know how funky GC was ain't interested in this. But the blog does say Music Footie Cycling and you now got all of them for the price of one. Bargain! Ah yes. Back in the pub we meet up with Pete and Wendy then a rather loquacious Murdo and lastly Nitin. After a chat about music, football, cycling and Cardiff Valleys most of us mosey over to the Town and Country Club or for our younger viewers the Kentish Town Forum.

The place is packed and only Debbie, Nitin and me are downstairs. Getting drinks we squeeze through the throng to jiggle about to the DJ who's hotting us up nicely enough. After a fair while the collective that is George Clinton's Parliament Funkadelic take the stage. You can see by the pics how crowded it is. George is on first thing which is unusual from what I remember as he usually lets things get funked up before appearing. He's more soberly dressed than I have seen him but not in his zoot suit and fedora hat like last time. Seems to have a pearly king hat on with big boxer robes and towels which are shed to reveal a natty shirt and strides. Whilst on fashion we have it all from hooded male singers / guitarists, dayglo drummer, African shirted sax player, various female singers who are all dressed to kill and the guy with the white furry cowboy outfit who strips to the waist and performs various physically impressive handstands and such like. George is getting on a bit now and he is more an orchestrator than really taking front of stage in singing and doesn't pick up an axe once. The set is a beautifully crafted run through most musical styles of any importance in the last 50 years with that ever present funky beat running right through the middle. Of course some is not so recognisable due to George's madcap and psychedelic take on his music. We start of sort of bumping along funky getting us gently grooving and to be honest the sound could be better especially the female vocals (god almighty, learnt a few easy bass lines and I'm turning into a music critic, which isn't believe it or not the point of these blogs). Anyway the sound man either sorts it out or my Old Speckled Hen sorts it out. Either way it gets better. After a gentle start of trademark Parliament soulful funky meanderings we get into something a bit tastier and the music builds up to a crescendo peaking energy wise in a hard core thrash rap frenzy. Around about we are treated to a jazzy singing lesson and some good old heavy rock riffing. Maybe it's my age but the well worn standard of funk One Nation Under a Groove hits the spot as does the headbanging Maggot Brain. Debbie is especially delighted with the proper grooviness of We Want the Funk, or whatever version of that standard is played. By the end of the set we are satisfied we've been inducted into the Mothership of Funk and as the guys on stage have given their all for once there's no disappointment we don't an encore. The band have played non stop for ages often swapping instruments and at times really going for it.

I guess someone of Clinton's age won't be jumping out of space ships in high heels all his life and he's certainly brought together a fine set of musicians and singers and entertainers who will carry the originality of George's psychedelic funk message to the masses well into the future. Fantastic. Long live rock and funk. Who said a funk band can't play rock? Not me...  Soon we're out into the open air and eventually we meet up again and go for a not so swift one for the road taking advantage of the all night tubes.

The hatter in the hat

and now two hatters in hats

Hands in the air say yeah!

Getting down on it P-Funk style

The P-Funk P-Early King