Life after Diaper Man

It had been 364 days since Parliament-Funkadelic had last taken the stage at Boston’s House of Blues, and 252 sad days since the death of guitarist, bandleader and notorious diaper man Garry “Starchild” Shider from brain and lung cancer June 16.

The death of Shider was two-fold for P-Funk; principally, it represented the loss of the last remaining funk soldier from the original Parliament-Funkadelic lineup, depriving the indestructible George Clinton of his main right-hand man since Eddie Hazel lost the plot and Shider joined the gang for Funkadelic’s seminal album Maggot Brain in 1971. It marked the ending of an era, the death of a time when P-Funk was more than just an entertaining side-show, a period where the two groups formed the two alter-egos of an inter-galactic funk experience, innovating and gyrating their way into the musical lexicon – and music lore – along the way. Simply put, Shider was an integral part of the tradition that poured out of Clinton’s doo-wop barbershop group and helped to create the backing tracks to the dance floors of the 1970s, and his death was a sad and untimely one at the age of 56.

But Shider’s presence on the stage was more important to P-Funk’s performances than his connection to the past – he was also Clinton’s conductor on stage, organizing and streamlining the often-chaotic stage show that has always swirled around the band. This, more than anything else, was his principal role when the group took the stage last year, and it was this potential lack of direction that made me so apprehensive about this year’s performance almost one year to the date later.

To the uninitiated, funk music is often dismissed as repetitive, and those critics might have had a point when comparing the set lists from this year and last. The bulk of the songs were lifted from their previous Boston show (with “Bounce To This,” “Atomic Dog” and “One Nation Under A Groove” making repeat appearances), and many of the common P-Funk gimmicks were on display with little or no variation. An unenthusiastic and sloppy “Bop Gun (Endangered Species)” preceded Clinton’s accession to the stage, putting a rather obvious reminder of Shider’s absence directly in front of the audience, and Sir Nose D’Voidoffunk’s antics were trite and uninteresting, literally pulling out the same props he used last year as the P-Funk contingent attempted to get the crowd into the show.

When the moment that everyone had been waiting for – Clinton’s heralded appearance – finally came to pass, it was met with a combination of enthusiasm and trepidation. How would Clinton, shorn of his trademark rainbow dreadlocks and his deep, full baritone of a voice, affect a performance that didn’t seem to be going anywhere?

In previous years, comforted by Shider’s reassuring presence and stage control, Clinton played the hype man much more, receding into the background and letting Shider and crew run the show for the most part. But it was a mark to P-Funk’s – and Clinton’s in particular – ability to adapt that his appearance marked a shift in the proceedings. Every song that he presided over was better than the last, and the band got funkier, tighter and more innovative as the show went on, coalescing into the powerful funk monster that everyone expected by the time the show crashed to a halt.

Clinton picked up where Shider left off for the most part, limiting his penchant for rather startling yells into the microphone in favor of directing things from the middle of the stage and facilitating the band’s transitions from song to song. Bizarre and humorous life-size aliens and bugs also paraded through the musicians, dancing and grooving along and ensuring that at any moment there were at least 12 musicians and five outrageous costumes bopping about the stage.

It was a performance that inspired, not in its collective brilliance, but in its nature in a grander sense. Parliament-Funkadelic will continue moving forward and innovating even in the face of contract disputes, bitter personality clashes and even the death of some of its most beloved characters. As long as the myth prevails and Clinton is around to spread it to his legions of followers and burgeoning collection of new recruits, the band will continue to be the shining beacon of funk that Sly never could be. And I, for one, can get down with that.