The Parliament Funkadelic legend discusses his new album, World Wide Funk, his 6-foot pedalboard, and his lesser-known guitar playing.
What hasn’t been written about bassist Bootsy Collins?
In 1970, when Collins was just 18, he joined James Brown’s band and played bass on timeless classics like “Sex Machine,” “Super Bad,” and “Soul Power”—which for some people is enough to establish him as one of the instrument’s all-time greats. But Collins was just getting started, and two years later he joined Parliament Funkadelic.
Brown taught Collins how to interpret groove—he emphasized the one, which means resolving phrases on the downbeat—and Collins taught that concept to his new band. That one defined the sound of P-Funk, which in turn helped define the sound of funk, which—thanks to sampling and the popularity of hip-hop—was influential in shaping the next 40 years of popular music.
Collins is central to seminal Parliament releases like Chocolate City and Mothership Connection, and even his “solo” project, Bootsy’s Rubber Band, scored a number one R&B hit with “Bootzilla” in 1978. He’s also a frequent collaborator and since the ’80s has worked with everyone from Bill Laswell to Fatboy Slim to Herbie Hancock to Buckethead. In 1990, he was at the top of the charts as part of Deee-Lite’s mega-hit, “Groove Is in the Heart,” and in the early 2000s performed the Monday Night Football theme with Hank Williams Jr.
And that’s just part of his curriculum vitae.
Collins’ tonal wanderlust—in addition to his innovative playing—defined the sound of funk as well. Eddie Van Halen has the Phase 90. Jimi Hendrix had the Uni-Vibe. And Bootsy Collins has the Mu-Tron III envelope filter. That watery thump isn’t just a Collins’ trademark—that’s what funky music sounds like.
Collins was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame two decades ago, but he not only shows no signs of slowing down, he shows no signs of becoming a has-been. His new album, World Wide Funk, is surprisingly fresh. “I was trying to intertwine some of the young energy,” he says. “That’s kind of what I hang around now, a lot of young musicians, and being around that inspires me even more. I tried to incorporate that into the album.”
World Wide Funk features guest appearances from fellow bassists Victor Wooten, Stanley Clarke, Manou Gallo, and Alissia Benveniste; guitarists Eric Gales and Buckethead; drummer Dennis Chambers; rappers Doug E. Fresh, Chuck D, Dru Down, and the Blvck Seeds; singers Kali Uchis, Musiq Soulchild, and October London … and many others.
But this is Premier Guitar, so when we got Collins on the phone, our first order of business was gear. We got the lowdown on his early instruments and the history behind what eventually led to his iconic star-shaped basses. We also discussed his never-ending obsession with pedals, collaborating with other bassists, the recording of World Wide Funk, and—this may even be a first—we even got him to talk about his little known, yet very impressive, guitar playing.
You’re known for your distinctive star-shaped basses, but obviously, that’s not what you started with. I read that your first instrument was a guitar strung up with bass strings. Is that true?
Well, it didn’t have bass strings at first. It was a regular $29 job, a Silvertone guitar. The reason I put bass strings on it was because I wanted to play with my brother [Phelps “Catfish” Collins]. He played guitar and he was developing a good reputation. He’s about eight years older than I am. He was a teenager and I was, like, 9 years old. And from the beginning I wanted to play with him. So, I figured if I got a guitar, I could at least learn how to play and then the next step would be to play with him. When that next step came up, he didn’t need another guitar player, he needed a bass player. I didn’t have a bass, so I was like, “Okay, well, what do I do now?” I asked him if he would get me four bass strings. He got me four bass strings, I unwound the thickness of it at the end, I put them on the guitar, and voilà!—that was my bass guitar.
World Wide Funk, the latest album by Bootsy Collins, was mostly recorded in his Bootzilla Rehab home studio. It includes an intro by Iggy Pop and appearances by Victor Wooten, Stanley Clarke, Eric Gales, Buckethead, and Chuck D, just to name a few.
Did you still have that when you joined James Brown?
Yeah. He loved my playing but he was really done with that guitar. The color of it was beat and at that time Fender was the main thing on the market. Everybody had to play a Fender—either a P bass or a Jazz bass. I wanted one for the longest time, but I couldn’t afford it. He dogged me out about my little bass, man, like, “You can’t come up here on my stage anymore with that thing.” He wound up getting me a Fender Jazz bass.
Did you prefer the Jazz bass as opposed to the Precision?
Yes, especially at that time because I just loved the way the neck felt. It wasn’t wide all the way up the neck. It was just a perfect fit. And the sound of it—I loved the P-bass sound, too, but I liked the body shape of the Jazz. It fit real good.
Did you have a Vox bass with James Brown as well?
Yeah, I’ve still got that Vox bass [an Apollo IV] and I played it on one of the songs on the new album—I can’t think which one it was off the top of my head—but I played it on one of the songs and man, I mean, nothing sounds like that. It’s like a dead-string sound—those old flatwound strings on top of that hollow Vox bass guitar. It’s got a built-in fuzz on it and a built-in tuner. It was incredible. I used a lot of different things on this record to try to give me a facelift. I’m still keeping the old stuff, but I’m adding a little newness here and there. On different songs, I use different pedals as well.
Were you still playing the Jazz bass when you joined Funkadelic?
No, I went back to the P bass. That’s what everybody was into, back at that time. I was like, “I got to get myself together to play the P bass,” because the neck is different. I started playing it—and I started loving it. The first recordings I did with Parliament Funkadelic were with that P bass. And that P bass is in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame now [laughs].
George Clinton, Blackbyrd McKnight, Michael Hampton, and Ricky Rouse discuss the storied history of 6-string within P-Funk.
A group shot of the early Funkadelic ensemble circa 1970. Standing, left to right: Clarence “Fuzzy” Haskins, Lucius “Tawl” Ross, Bernie Worrell, Ramon “Tiki” Fulwood, Grady Thomas, George Clinton, Calvin Simon, Ray Davis.
Seated: Eddie Hazel and Billy “Bass” Nelson (supine).
It’s difficult to overstate the influence of Parliament Funkadelic. They helped shape the sound of the ’70s, and, along with James Brown, pioneered funk and became the foundation of hip-hop. Literally. Their grooves have been sampled, looped, and rapped over ad infinitum. The band is still touring, releasing new albums, and George Clinton—P-Funk’s ringleader and mastermind—was recently nominated for a Grammy for his role on Kendrick Lamar’s 2015 release, To Pimp a Butterfly. (Be sure to check out our sidebar that celebrates the eight main guitar players who paved the funky way.)
Of importance to 6-stringers, the guitar is central to P-Funk’s sound. On the heels of their first hit, 1967’s “(I Wanna) Testify,” the doo-wop group the Parliaments morphed into the psychedelic Funkadelic. Built around Eddie Hazel’s fuzz-drenched leads and Tawl Ross’ steady rhythmic chunk—and inspired by artists like the MC5, Vanilla Fudge, and Jimi Hendrix—Funkadelic redefined R&B. They were loud, audacious, outrageous, and infinitely groovy. In the 1970s—and with the reintroduction of the name Parliament—the band grew into a collective of about 50 musicians and perfected their infectious brand of funk. By decade’s end, they were selling out stadiums, selling millions of albums, and charting hit after hit.
It’s no surprise P-Funk attracted top guitar talent. In addition to Hazel and Ross, their roster included Garry Shider, Cordell “Boogie” Mosson, Michael Hampton (aka Kidd Funkadelic), Ron Bykowski, Glenn Goins, Bootsy Collins, Catfish Collins, DeWayne “Blackbyrd” McKnight, Ricky Rouse, and many others. “All of them played guitars except for me,” Clinton says. “I was good for humming lines for guitars. But I don’t have dexterity for shit.”
the tradition going.”
We wanted to find out about the history, tones, tricks, gear, and great guitarists—both past and present—of Parliament Funkadelic, so we went straight to the sources. We spoke with Clinton, Hampton, McKnight, and Rouse and crafted this roundtable of sorts. Sit back, prepare yourself, and get ready to learn some of funk’s deepest guitar history.
The way you used guitar really distinguished P-Funk from other funk groups, especially on the early Funkadelic stuff. What was your initial inspiration for that?
George Clinton: Well, for that, of course, it was going to be Jimi Hendrix. Right when we did “(I Wanna) Testify,” it was changing from the Motown era to rock ’n’ roll—European style. Rock ’n’ roll was coming back into the States all amped up. A friend of mine, her name was Nancy Lewis, was friends with Pete Townshend and Jimi Hendrix. We did a compilation record [Backtrack, Vol. 6] with them—“Testify” was on the record—on a thing called Track Records over in Europe, which became the Northern Soul Company. I saw those amps up at the girl’s house and we also played on Vanilla Fudge’s equipment one time. We saw that big sound—how it was created—and we just started buying up amps. I got Eddie Hazel two Marshalls—the one-piece Marshall [8x12 cabinet], not the half-stacks like they got today. It was one tall piece. That was the beginning of our psychedelic era—him and Billy Bass [Nelson]. When I got them started, they were just starting to play an instrument. Guitar became part of our changeover from the doo-wop time—from singing with vocals only, to a real loud guitar. Eddie Hazel learned very well. He had a Gretsch, a big-body guitar, at first.
Guitarist Gary Shider gets down during the P-Funk's Woodstock ’99 set. Photo by Frank White
A big-body Gretsch? I didn’t expect that.
Clinton: Then we got him a Strat. It didn’t matter to him. It could be a Kay or anything—he could make it sound the same. He learned so good—the Jimi sound and techniques. We were able to jump out ahead of most people from the R&B side. When we did “I Bet You” from the first Funkadelic album [1970’s Funkadelic], and then Free Your Mind…and Your Ass Will Follow, we deliberately went off to be really psychedelic. We knew we wanted to set a foundation so that we’d never have to worry about making a commercial record again. We went so far out there with the guitar on purpose on Free Your Mind…and Your Ass Will Follow that it became our signature—that loud, nasty guitar.
Back in the early days when you were first using all those big amps, was Eddie using pedals as well? How did that progress over time?
Clinton: Eddie started right out learning the pedals—the wah wah, the Big Muff, and phasers and shit. We bought all the gadgets in the world, [especially] once Bootsy got with us.
Blackbyrd McKnight: When I first got there, I had a Fender Stratocaster. I think EMG pickups had just come out in the early ’80s and I quickly gravitated to them. Other than that and a little preamp I used in my guitar, we were using Music Man amplifiers. I recall having an MXR Distortion +. I used a compressor—it probably was the Roland compressor at the time. I think I had a chorus pedal, but I can’t remember what brand it was. And I think that was about it because the Music Man amps were killer. I was told they were owned by Aerosmith. They were beefed up and they sounded absolutely great. I was a pedal guy and I loved playing with all kinds of pedals, but with traveling and carrying cords and pedals—this was before pedalboards and all of that stuff, for me anyway—I took a couple of things out. But the amps were more than enough to get that tone.
Michael Hampton: At that time, I think they had Aerosmith’s old Music Mans—their old backline. They had a Crown power amp, too. So they had the Music Man and then they had them running through the Crown to the speakers. The guys working as techs back then knew how to modify all that stuff. They could go in and modify whatever was happening with that amp. And they probably made that amp hotter. If it had anything to do with the tubes, whatever they knew how to do, it was probably responsible for that tone.
According to Parliament-Funkadelic architect George Clinton: “The art of playing rock ’n’ roll guitar on an R&B record is: Play the melody of the singer’s part, go off and do your psychedelic thing, and then come back to the melody.” Photo by Tim Bugbee - Tinnitus Photography
Compositionally, were the guitar players free to find their own voice to express themselves? Were you dictating lines or creating parts for them?
Clinton: No. I did that once in a while, but there was no need for me to do that. I had too many people that could do that for real. So I didn’t. But every once in a while I would have something to say. Just something I felt, and they were pretty good at interpreting anything I said.
Ricky Rouse: George lets you do what you can do. He knows how to use whatever you’ve got. Everybody gets quite a bit of freedom to do whatever they want to do.
McKnight: Once in a while George would sing a part he wanted me to incorporate in a song and I would do that, but for the most part he gave us creative control.
What are some of the basic building blocks you use for soloing? Harmonically and melodically, how do you approach it? McKnight: I just play what I hear. I didn’t really have any type of formula or anything other than all the influences I accumulated over the years—that was about as deep as I got with any sort of music theory with that band. One of the reasons I wanted to play with that band was artistic freedom, as it were. I listened to a bunch of jazz and rock and I always liked fusing those two together—that was about the only process I went through. Wherever the song was, I did what I thought would fit. George never said anything about what he wanted. He would turn on the tape—or the engineer would turn on the tape—and they might say to face a certain way to get the hum out or whatever, and that was about it.
Hampton: When I was starting to find out about different scales, I would experiment on how to resolve, say, a diminished to a major, or do a diminished scale or an augmented and then resolve it to a minor. I mean, as long as it’s not too far away from the modes. I experiment a lot. If I’m playing something, I want to do as many variations on it as I can. It depends on the progression and whoever is producing it or what they think they might hear. They might have a vocal track on there already so I’m either trying to do something that complements the vocal or I’m trying to actually do the same thing as the vocalist. That would be my foundation, and then I go off from there and I try to enhance whatever the progression is. But I really don’t think I gave it a whole lot of thought, like, “I’m going to deal with it like this.”
Clinton: Michael Hampton came in and took Eddie’s place. He had that sound and he learned very well when I told him that the art of playing rock ’n’ roll guitar on an R&B record is: Play the melody of the singer’s part, go off and do your psychedelic thing, and then come back to the melody. For example, “One Nation Under a Groove,” “(Not Just) Knee Deep,” “Never Buy Texas from a Cowboy”—he learned those concepts so well and he always had real good sounds on his guitar.
Hampton: When I was really young, our teacher took the whole class to see the symphony orchestra. I was fortunate enough to check that out, and something about it just set something off—when I hear certain songs and the way they use the modes. I’m looking for what it makes me feel like, you know? Like wonderment. I’m trying to paint a feeling of whatever feeling I have. Most of the time it’s kind of minor-ish. But I love all of the different modes. It interests me on how to resolve it.
Michael Hampton, aka Kidd Funkadelic, plays a B.C. Rich doubleneck at B.B. King’s in New York circa 2012. Hampton was a teenager when he joined Parliament Funkadelic, landing the gig after impressing the band with a rendition of “Maggot Brain” at an after-party in his hometown of Cleveland, Ohio. Photo by Joe Russo
I also try to put solos in there like how a drummer does a roll. He plays a drum roll and sets it up for the melody. I’m always listening for that resolution. I might wander around in some different modes or scales, but I’m interested in trying to resolve it right on, at a time where people should understand it. It could be a slow or fast lead, but whatever it is should resolve. “Oh, here it comes right here. Okay.” And bring it back home.
How does your tone change when you’re in the studio—do you sit in the control room or do you stay in the room with the amp?
Rouse: It depends on what we’re trying to do. A lot of times when you’re just playing rhythm you can do it right there at the board. And if you’re playing some lead stuff, you go out there and wire the amp up and put it through like that. George likes the power from the amp, but I’ve cut sessions with him where I just sit in front of him at the board and do it.
Clinton: At United Sound [in Detroit], we had separate rooms that you could put a man in. Even in Toronto—we did a few of the songs like [1972’s] “America Eats Its Young” up there—those big sounds. And sometimes we’d just do straight up rock ’n’ roll—everybody in the same place and we’d just turn it up loud.
Hampton: For one solo, I was outside the booth and the amp was isolated in the vocal booth. For the “(Not Just) Knee Deep” solo, I think it was a Fender Twin cranked all the way up. They had those microphones that stuck to the glass. But in order to get that sound, they isolated the amp. I’ve done both, like, where I’m with the amplifier, like on “Butt-To-Butt Resuscitation”—I didn’t name that by the way [laughs]. I was using my Alembic guitar, I forget what the model was, and there was a Morley wah and I think they had a Marshall stack. I was basically right next to the stack when I did that solo. I prefer to be right next to it, for feedback and other effects.
Blackbyrd McKnight (left), Rickey Rouse (middle), and Michael Hampton (right) jam out with Parliament Funkadelic at the 2015 NAMM show
in Anaheim, California. Photo by Alex Matthews
With so many guitarists—plus keyboards—playing together, how do you keep from stepping on each other’s toes?
McKnight: We just listen as well as we can. At one point we had a mixer onstage—everybody had a speaker of somebody else’s on the other side of the stage. Everybody had at least one cabinet of another guy, so we listened and if one guy was playing the parts he played on the record, you’d play something that was relatively close to what he was playing but not step on his toes, and the same with the keyboards, because you could hear everything. The thing for me was being able to hear everything so that you didn’t overdo it.
Michael, there’s a video online of “Red Hot Mama” and you’re playing a guitar that looks like a Strat but it has a reverse headstock and it’s got three humbuckers. What is it and how did you get it to sound so good?
Hampton: It’s a Strat. I put the left-handed neck on and three DiMarzio Super Distortions—I just went crazy with that guitar. I had an Alembic preamp they made back in the day—that kind of blew out later. I always liked funny cars and hot rods and that’s basically as close as I’m going to get for the guitar [laughs].
Plus, I would just crank the guitar, man. I would turn it all the way up. Most of the time everything would probably be at 10. I guess it came from the pickups itself and the actual makeup of however it resonated. I pulled the saddles all the way back, too, so I could get more flexibility and more play in the string, and it wasn’t intonated correctly. The guitar was intonated with itself—if I hit everything open and you gave me all the strings open on the keyboard, then the guitar would be kind of out. But that might have a little to do with the tone, too, because there was more play in the strings. But it’s got to be those preamps, that Alembic preamp was probably working at the time, and those Super Distortions along with it probably gave it that tone.
Not to give it all up to me, but some people actually say it’s in your fingers. And I guess there is some truth to that, but I’m just trying to stay humble on that one. I’m pretty sure we’re talking about the electronics [laughs]. And the strings probably were definitely somewhere near new. Because I used to change them every two gigs or something, keeping the strings fresh.
How does Parliament Funkadelic write songs? Does the group jam and you find a good line or do people come in with ideas?
Clinton: Most of the time we start off with a good line that started as a vamp or something onstage and we make a song out of it. When we get into the studio, we come up with licks and grooves and we just take them from there. Most head sessions are done in the studio, everybody [throws in ideas], and then we put the words to it. Once in a while I have a song written beforehand and then we do the track after it. That would mean [keyboardists] Junie Morrison and Bernie [Worrell] would have to do arrangements as opposed to head sessions—they would have to figure it out prior. “Knee Deep” was one of the best of those types of songs.
Rickey Rouse has played with Stevie Wonder, Chaka Kahn, Dr. Dre, Snoop Dogg, and even Tupac. “Look at his resume, watch him onstage—the dude is one badass dangerous guitar player,” says Blackbyrd McKnight about Rouse.
Photo by High ISO Music
Can you name an example of a jam that started onstage that you turned into a song?
Clinton: “Shit, Goddamn, Get Off Your Ass and Jam.” Almost all of the songs, because like I said, there would be a lick or something and we’d go into the studio and then put something to it.
Do you rehearse new material or is it cut live in the studio?
Rouse: It’s pretty much cut live; we don’t have to rehearse. George tells you what he wants and he’ll give you the freedom to put your thing on it and that’s how we do it. The only time we really rehearse is if we’re going to do a TV show or something like that where we have to have a set list. He is a very good orchestrator in the studio as well as live. He knows how to control the audience and the band at the same time. It’s never really a set show. We have certain things that might happen, like we might end with “Atomic Dog.” He might pull some song from the first album or something like that. But he’s pretty much in control of the thing.
The P-Funk Guitar Army
We can’t say for sure how many guitarists played with Parliament Funkadelic throughout the group’s six decades in existence. But we can offer this rundown of the eight main guitar players who paved the way.Eddie Hazel
Eddie Hazel was Funkadelic’s original lead guitarist. He set the bar high. “Eddie Hazel colored the style of Funkadelic,” George Clinton says. “All the stuff leading up to Maggot Brain and afterwards—he set the style. Garry Shider—who was like his little brother—kept the tradition going.”
Hazel is lauded for his lead playing, particularly his iconic 10-minute solo on “Maggot Brain.” But his rhythm playing was just as important. “He had a way of playing rhythm where he used his fingers as well as the pick,” says Blackbyrd McKnight. “I understand that he got that style from his grandmother. His grandmother played guitar and he told me that he got a lot of that stuff from her—playing with the pick and the fingers at the same time with the rhythms. It was similar to how the blues players did back in the day—that’s what it sounded like to me.
“When I met him, he was actually a greater guitar player than I knew he was,” McKnight continues. “You’d go to a soundcheck, you’d listen to him play or you’d hear him play something on the gig—hard not to be influenced by that.”
Hazel appears on Funkadelic’s earliest albums. He was in and out of the band throughout the ’70s and ’80s and died in 1992. See Hazel in action in this early Funkadelic performance.
Probably the most mysterious of the P-Funk guitarists is Ron Bykowski. “Ron was the first white guitar player we had,” says Clinton. Bykowski appears on Cosmic Slop [1973] and Standing on the Verge of Getting It On [1974] and is credited as the “polyester soul-powered token white devil” on the latter. “He gave us that Les Paul sound, like the feedback on ‘March to the Witches’ Castle,’” Clinton continues. “He was the one that made us like a real rock ’n’ roll band early in our careers as Funkadelic.”
“Ron was the feedback king,” Ricky Rouse says. “He knew how to get all the different feedbacks from the way he positioned his body with the amp. He could move his body a certain way and get a different feedback and a different tone.”
“I think one of my favorite songs, ‘Red Hot Mama,’ is actually Ron Bykowski,” says McKnight. “Everybody thinks it’s Eddie, but it’s not. I’ve heard outtakes with Eddie on it and when the two of them are playing together you can definitely tell who’s who.”
Bykowski played in a number of Detroit area R&B bands before joining P-Funk, but fell off the map after leaving Funkadelic. “I know his wife didn’t want him to be in the group when he first got married,” Clinton says. “At that time we were always really out there on drugs [laughs] and he was hanging with Eddie, of all people, so, she had a good reason for wanting him back home.”
Although live videos of Bykowski are hard to find, there is this.
YouTube search term: Funkadelic – Cosmic Slop 1973
(Ron, if you’re reading, we would love to hear from you.)