I’ve never seen anyone walk the way George Clinton did when he strolled into Sony Hall on a Friday night in November. He floated by us outside the Times Square venue, slapping a few fives on his way backstage. I watched him in awe and my beliefs were reaffirmed: George Clinton is the coolest dude on the planet. Shortly after, Clinton took the stage with Parliament-Funkadelic, a collective he has headed for half a century. Together, the group delivered a non-stop dance party, their setlist encompassing old school classics, newer material and a few back wall fan favorites.

When you go to a P-Funk show, you’ll witness multiple generations of funkateers onstage together. There is of course George, who founded the collective in the late 60s, veteran collaborators like guitarist Michael Hampton, vocalist Michael “Clip” Payne, and bassist Lige Curry, members who joined in the last couple of decades like keyboardist Danny Bedrosian and drummer Benzel Baltimore, and legacy performers like Garrett Shider, son of late P-Funk guitar player Garry Shider, and Clinton’s own grandchildren, like Scottie. Their setlist mirrors their personnel, showcasing a diverse array of styles from their five-decade long career. 

Throughout the two and a half-hour show the band never seemed to take a break. One moment the group would be vamping on a Parliament classic like “Give Up the Funk,” before passing the mic over to one of their guitar players known as “God’s Weapon,” and ripping into a full-scale metal song. Then we’d get a jam from their psych-rock days as Funkadelic like “You and Your Folks,” before launching into a rap song headed by the younger vocalists on stage, complete with 808s and George leading the audience in dance. The group seamlessly transitioned between styles that all find common ground in one important ingredient: the groove. 

Sprinkled throughout the night of course are bits of George’s uncanny wisdom, like a line from the 1978 Funkadelic classic, “One Nation Under a Groove,” “Here’s a chance to dance our way out of our constrictions…” The audience, abiding by the laws of funk, did exactly that, especially during a rendition of “Atomic Dog,” in which ladies from the audience were brought on stage.

At 80 years old, George showed no sign of slowing down on stage. His ability to command an audience is unparalleled. All who were there that night were under George’s spell, and for those of you who don’t know how to spell: it’s “F – U – N – K.”