It's a story almost too strange to tell, a chronicle of life and death and rebirth, spanning decades, including more characters than one could ever remember, beginning in the heart of black America before traveling to the furthest reaches of outer space. It's a cautionary tale of success and failure, camaraderie and exploitation, sex and cocaine. But more than anything else, it is the story of the funk. As in, we want the funk. Give up the funk. We need the funk. We gotta have that funk. This is the story of Parliament - Funkadelic.
The 2016 documentary Tear The Roof Off: The Untold Story of Parliament Funkadelic, which is currently streaming on Amazon Prime Video, tries to unravel the complicated history of the group, or groups, I should say. Starting in the 1950s, singer-songwriter and producer George Clinton was the driving force behind a slew of acts, ranging from R&B vocal quartet The Parliaments, to acid rockers Funkadelic, before finding success with the amalgamated Parliament - Funkadelic and their science fiction-referent funk in the mid-'70s. At their height of their popularity they filled stadiums with a stage show as extravagant as any heavy metal band and a multitude of musicians and singers performing in costume and various states of undress.
Mixing archival footage, dramatic reenactments and interviews with the multitude of players who passed through P-Funk's ranks, the documentary covers the group's history chronologically. The challenge is including representatives from all the various manifestations of Clinton's creative id. Besides Parliament and Funkadelic, this also includes the vocal groups the Brides of Funkenstein and Parlet, whose membership was pulled from P-Funk's retinue of female backup singers.
The musicians who would eventually change the sound of music, got their start hanging around a barbershop in Plainfield, NJ. They consisted of the five singers who made up the vocal group The Parliaments, and various backup musicians, who would later form the backbone of the Funkadelic band. The Parliaments were briefly signed to Motown Records and later had a hit on a rival Detroit label, 1967's "(I Wanna) Testify." Where The Parliaments, later Parliament, focus was on vocal arrangements and singles, the younger members of Funkadelic were into Jimi Hendrix and acid rock. While Parliament was sidelined by a lawsuit, Funkadelic flourished, issuing a trio of hugely influential records which fused funk grooves with hard rock guitars, culminating in their masterpiece, 1971's Maggot Brain.
By the mid-'70s, Clinton relaunched Parliament and signed them to Casablanca Records, home of Donna Summer and Kiss. Funkadelic were signed to different labels, which Clinton preferred according to band members should another lawsuit rear its ugly head. Taking a page from Motown, he began nurturing a stable of artists, made up of the musicians in Parliament, Funkadelic and session musicians who played on their albums. Clinton acted as the songwriter, producer and manager, a model Wu-Tang Clan's RZA would emulate decades later.
As the hit records started piling up, the musicians who played on them started asking about money. According to some, they received only $20 or $50 at the end of tour. Others claim they were paid in drugs. Former manager Robert Mittleman counters that band members owed Clinton for drugs consumed on the road and he merely collected it out of their wages when they returned from tour. When one enterprising band member began selling drugs to his tour mates to cover his meager pay, Clinton allegedly posted a sign which said "No Drug Dealing unless authorized by George."
Most disturbing are claims from the female members of P-Funk that they were expected to be sexually available for Clinton, who preyed on their insecurities and career ambitions to manipulate them to his wishes. Drug use reached dangerous levels when Clinton and crew began smoking cocaine instead of snorting it. Eventually, he became a victim of his own addiction, signing over his publishing rights to his dealer to cover his massive drug debt.
Parliament - Funkadelic would splinter into numerous touring groups made up of disgruntled former members before eventually collapsing under the weight of drug abuse and legal woes. Over the years, however, they would influence everything from gangsta rap to stoner rock. In 1997 none other than Prince would induct them into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, a bittersweet moment considering the band's entangled personal legacy.
According to Wikipedia, nearly 200 musicians have played in Parliament - Funkadelic and their numerous offshoots over the years. Tear The Roof Off: The Untold Story of Parliament Funkadelic is an hour long. As you might imagine, a lot is left out, most notably interviews with Clinton, legendary bassist Bootsy Collins, and important band members whose deaths preceded production. The filming is crude and the editing is amateurish, but, despite these criticisms, it still somehow captures the cosmic slop that is the essence of the band. While the band deserves a more intensive investigation documentary at a later date, Tear The Roof Off at least gives you enough of a taste of the funk to inspire deeper digging into their rich discography and fascinating history.
