I’ve completed my 45 minute pool run* and now I’m hitting the heavy iron for another 45 minutes to round out my Friday evening while The Donald has his official Inaugural swearing in ceremony or whatever it is they do in the United States to symbolize the changing of the guard and, quite possibly, the end of the free world as we know it.  Later, I’ll retire back home before the world blows up for a healthy dinner of Kelly’s famous chicken burrito bowls.  I know, they’re amazing.  My listening pleasure then is going back down the ‘ol funk route ‘Ahh…The Name Is Bootsy, Baby!‘ by Parliament.


This is Bootsy Collins’ sophomore album released in 1977 on Warner Bros. Records.  It reached #1 on Billboard magazine’s Top R&B/Soul albums chart, the first P-Funk release to achieve this goal.

Most P-funk addicts consider this 1977 LP essential listening, and it isn’t hard to see why they feel that way. Everything on the album is excellent; that is true of up-tempo smokers like ‘The Pinocchio Theory‘  and the title song as well as slow, moody, eerie offerings such as ‘What’s a Telephone Bill?‘  and ‘Munchies for Your Love‘.  The lyrics are consistently humorous and clever, the grooves are consistently infectious.

You can think of this album as a meeting of the funk minds – Collins produced this record with his mentor, George Clinton, who co-wrote all of the material.  So Clinton has a lot of input and gives the album it’s distinctive P-funk sound that Parliament/Funkadelic was known for.  But at the same time, he encourages Collins’ originality – Bootsy’s Rubber Band sounds like a Parliament/Funkadelic spin-off (which is exactly what it was), but not a Parliament/Funkadelic clone.

Definitely an absolute funk essential.

Now, if only The Donald were so much fun…

*Actually, it was 45 minutes of walking on a treadmill at an incline of 15 as two minutes into the run, there was an evacuation thanks to “poop in the pool”.


About crazytigerrabbitman

I am a fat guy and always will be in the same way they say that “once an alcoholic; always an alcoholic”. Eventually I got upset about my poor health and ballooning body frame so I decided to change things for the better. Some people sign up for Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig, or whatever fad diet program it is that happens to be occupying the majority of air time on the boob tube. Other people prefer to run out and purchase the latest, fold away, piece of shit being hawked by some celebrity has-been. Me? I decided to take up triathlon. I had abused my body over the years with bacon cheeseburgers, pints of beer and double-dipped donuts, and the time had now come to abuse my body with physical exertion, perseverance and hard work instead; penitence in it's purest form. The time had come to kick my ass. I am Terry Nash and I am the “fat and the furious”.
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