Listening to Clinton's last album was a little disheartening. It's painful listening to something so lacking coming from someone so influential. Albums with tons of guest appearances usually signal creative death; it's often a gesture signaling a (perhaps desperate) attempt to reinvigorate or reinvent an artist. Live performances featuring granddaughters, (as of now) unknown fresh faces and hot young things can also signal such an omen.
Put upon merely stepping into Toad's, all of this was but a pesky little fly in the room. A pest, in fact, well into old age, more than ready to die in a pile of dust in the corner of the room. Clinton and P-Funk's performance was cosmic. They didn't ask me to get on the mothership, but used the weapon of funk to force me the hell in. Two days later, I'm still on it, bathing in funk. And damnit, two days later, my camera still reeks of marijuana, party, and FUNK which came from GodKnowsWhere/EveryFreakingWhere.
You may ask: "WHAT IS A BOOTY? HOW DO YOU SHAKE IT?"
Georgie has an answer for you: [LIKE THIS...]
1 comments:
get a flickr lame face
-lime green magenta
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