Aced Out Podcast

** visit acedoutpodcast.com to see photos and more **

“The funk is the stench that you smell after you work really hard.” So says MURGA BOOKER, drummer, percussionist, shaman & card-carrying funkateer. And he would know. After all, from 1980 to ‘85, Booker was deeply embedded in the P-Funk camp, working with George Clinton and everyone else around Disc Ltd. Studios in Detroit. He was snatched up by Rubber Band drummer Frankie “Cash” Waddy and Bootsy Collins himself after they had heard him play the Moroccan clay drums at his pad. They were also impressed by Booker’s work with Weather Report, bassist Michael Henderson, and Detroit soul group the Fantastic Four. By then, Muruga had figured out how to make himself indispensable to producers and bandleaders alike. “I saw everybody in Detroit at Motown playing congas and bongos and maybe some timbales.” He explains. “So I went to Israeli and Greek doumbek and Moroccan clay drums… By having those instruments, I was not in any direct competition.”

 This explains the sounds of albums like the Electric Spanking of War Babies, which you might have noticed has a lot more varied and freaky percussion in the mix than Funkadelic records previous. Muruga’s funky hands are also busy on Clinton solo joints such as Computer Games (1982) and You Shouldn’t Nuf Bit Fish (1983), the P-Funk AllStars’ Urban Dance Floor Guerillas (1983), and the lesser known gem, a Bootsy project called GodMama (1981).

 But that’s not all. Being around George during this period also put Murugua in direct proximity to Sly Stone, whom Booker was able to entice to play bass (!) on his project, Muruga and the Soda Jerks, a quirky, New Wave-sounding version of the P signed and produced by Clinton. But Muruga’s contribution to Parliament-Funkadelic was not only musical but also medicinal. He served as the group’s masseuse and yoga instructor, teaching Bernie Worrell, George, Sly, et al breathing techniques in between bites of Booker’s mother’s paprikash.

 But Muruga’s musical journey didn’t start with the P — not by a long shot. In fact, as a teenager in 1960, Steve (not yet Muruga) Booker already had a hit. The band was called the Low Rocks and the song was “Blueberry Jam,” a super-sped up reworking of “Blueberry Hill” by Fats Domino. “We were the young garage punks of the era” says Booker, who was recruited directly from the audience when the previous Low Rocks drummer abruptly quit at a house party. The gig wound up lasting only a year, but the band had some exciting opportunities, including backing up Little Stevie Wonder in a battle of the bands.

 Soon after that, Steve Booker began to see the drums not just as an instrument but also as a theory of life. He basically moved into Detroit’s legendary blues and folk club the Chess Mate, where he would eventually become bandleader. There he would play hours-long drum solos every night. But the young Serbian stickman still lacked some key ingredients. One night, after he had finished yet another one of his extended excursions, a Black gentleman approached.  “I see what you’re trying to do,” he told Booker. But rather then launching into a lecture, the man handed him a cassette tape of Drums of Passion by Nigerian drummer Babatunde Olatunji.

 And just like that, Booker’s life changed. He spent the next two weeks in his mom’s living room, eight hours per day, dancing to Drums and seeing how the music made his body move. Things were starting to make sense. “If you do not love Africa or it’s people, then you cannot love the blues, or jazz, or rock and roll,” he says. The lessons came in handy when he played support for none other than John Lee Hooker, whom he grew to admire deeply.  “I realized that Hooker was not just a blues man, but he was a spiritual ju ju man, a healer,” says Booker. “Also he was a storyteller… That comes from griot. The griot is the storyteller of the tribe.” The pairing of the two went so well they were featured as a double bill, “Hooker & Booker.” 

Booker also had some of the best jams in his life at The Scene club in New York, where the top musicians of the day would go to let it all hang out musically when they weren’t in the studio or on tour. There the Band of Gypsys’ Buddy Miles served as a musical lightning rod of sorts. “When you go play the top clubs like The Scene,” Booker explains, “it’s top musicians going there, but jamming and intermingling and exchanging with each other… That’s the place where a George Clinton or a Sly Stone or a Mitch Mitchell or a Larry Coryell could go. But Buddy Miles… He was creating an atmosphere that drew all of those musicians like bees to honey.”

 By the late 60’s into the 70s, Booker’s deep plunges into musical depths had evolved into an intense curiosity and appreciation for spiritual contemplation—even more so than many peers of the era. This phase of his journey truly began on Day 1 of the iconic Woodstock Festival, where he landed in a helicopter to perform with Tim Hardin. It was there that he found himself in the presence of Swami Satchidananda, with whom Booker would live in ashram for two years as a celibate monk. In fact, it was Satchidananda who gave Muruga his name.

As a result of such intense studies, Muruga became very adept at tuning in rather than tuning out, and adapting his more avant garde, exploratory tendencies to a centered principle.  “A musician has to listen,” he explains. “Then you respond.” But he contends that he reached his highest plateau as a drummer once he mastered the concept of ambience and space, which he defines as: “to play the space as well as the note, and to create ambience with the space within the notes.” This seemingly unlikely marriage of freedom and discipline ultimately leads to Muruga’s theory of employing “law and grace” when serving up the Funk.  “1-2-3-4 is a law,” he teaches. “On the one is the law… But grace is ‘I’m being in the oneness’ while I am playing.” In other words, the law guides you until you are ready to transcend it, to exist in the groove. “You must know this,” he insists. “Otherwise you don’t even know funk.”

 Today, Muruga lives in Ann Arbor and is as jovial and active as ever, an orthodox priest and patented inventor of the Nada drum with a catalog of music that is deep and wide.  In this expansive, inspiring and often hilarious interview, Muruga talks about how he used to add wah-wah’s and phasers to his cymbals in order to “wake people up” by reenacting the then-ongoing Vietnam War onstage—causing half an audience in the South to give him a standing ovation, and the other half to walk out. Muruga also talks about why the rhythmic concept of “the push and drag” is the essence of life, mistakes drummers tend to make when playing the blues, and why he got scared the first time he heard the drum machine. As if that weren’t enough, Muruga also describes being made fun of by Don Rickles for 20 minutes straight, the magic of Sly Stone’s recording techniques, why Richie Havens is an “illuminary,” and that time he jammed one-on-one with JIMI HENDRIX on bass.

Produced & Hosted by Ace Alan
Cohosted by Jay Stone
w/ Content Produced by Aaron Booker & Andre
Foxxe
Website & Art by 3chards
Engineered by Nick “Waes” Carden at the Blue Room in Oakland, CA
But we couldn’t have done it without Mawnstr and especially Scott Sheppard

Intro track “I Can Never Be” from Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth by the Funkanauts. Go get it wherever music is sold. RIP Brotha P.

Rest in Power ROBIN RUSSELL of New Birth
(Aug 27, 1952 — Sep 8, 2021)

 ** visit

** visit acedoutpodcast.com to see photos and more **

The powerpack West Coast hip hop duo GOOCH GANG began out of necessity. Just over 10 years ago, LA-raised, longtime Bay Area Cali resident MWNSTR recorded a single with WAES, “Brutalizin.” When they realized the cut needed another verse, they instantly thought of KALIBAN, whom Mwnstr had known since the late 90s. That’s when he would see the dude cutting his teeth at open mics at spots like Leimert Park, South Central, and Inglewood.

But Kaliban’s approach was quite different, and it didn’t include putting his name on a signup sheet. “My theory was like: everybody and their mom were signin up for these open mics,” he explains. “So I’d wait for you outside really like the bully and splatter shit over the sidewalk.”

Mwnstr can confirm this. “There was super-talented people that would sign on the sheet and then battle onstage in these places,” he remembers. “This dude [Kaliban] was just like a fuckin weirdo. He’d pull up in the parking lot… He would go up to like cyphers and just bomb people — I’m talkin about people that had a name at the time. And he was goin at people’s throats.”

As for the verse that Kaliban wound up adding to Mwsntr’s track? “He just killed it.” Then it came time to take it to the stage. But there was a catch. “I’d always been in a group,” says Mwnstr. “I was in a group with P.E.A.C.E. of Freestyle Fellowship, and my other homey Dranged. I’d always be on someone else’s stuff… So I said ‘man I ‘m shouldering this whole shit. I need a capable other rapper with me.” So he commissioned Kal to ride with him on the Vans Warped Tour.

Now it was on. And before they made it back home, they had already come up with the group concept: they named themselves after “The Gooch,” an unseen but often spoken about schoolyard bully from the classic 80s sitcom Different Strokes starring Gary Coleman. Immediately afterward, they went into the studio and recorded what is still one of their dopest cuts: “Gin Rummy.” 

Fast forward to 2021 and you got Gooch’s latest album, SWRVD, a banger that sounds like it was designed for live shows instead of a pair of headphones. And it shows both lyrically and sonically how serious they take their craft. Even more importantly, though there are most definitely no pop tunes on this release, the fellas exceed the expectations of your garden variety, present-day MCs.

In fact, for those who think they are entitled to hold a mic up to their faces, Kaliban offers some advice: “Don’t’ cheapen the sport because a lotta people put blood sweat in tears into this industry that we call hip hop. And I think what they’re doin right now is waterin it down and tryna act like anybody can do this. It’s like ‘No. Everybody can’t do this shit. ‘“

His partner in rhyme puts it a bit less diplomatically: “Man, fuck 99.9% of this shit,” Mwnstr surmises. “It’s not ‘cause I can’t relate or I’m out of touch… I just like originality—Period.”

In this candid and occasionally off-the-rails interview, Mwnstr and Ace discuss how they first met and became friends over 20 years ago, and Kaliban speaks on what it’s like having a brand new baby girl, aka “Super Poops.” The fellas also discuss the lack of diversity in today’s music industry, a future Gooch Gang/Funkanauts collaboration, how hipsters played out beards and face tattoos, and why Mwnstr wants to kick Adam Levine in the small of his back.

Produced & Hosted by Ace Alan
Cohosted by Jay Stone
w/ Content Produced by Jay Double You! 
Website & Art by 3chards
Engineered by Nick “Waes” Carden at the Blue Room in Oakland, CA

But we couldn’t have done it without Mawnstr and especially Scott Sheppard

 ** visit acedoutpodcast.com to see photos and more **

** visit acedoutpodcast.com to see photos and more **

Lifetime Achievement Grammy winner, Rock and Roll Hall of Famer, and Original P-FunkateerGRADY THOMAS’ first job in the music biz wasn’t all that glamorous. “I had a job working at a record plant,” he explains. “I used to drive a truck around to all the stores delivering records and stuff.” One day, something amazing snuck up on him. “I was driving” he remembers, “and all of a sudden, I heard our record on the radio.” That song was “(I Wanna) Testify” by the PARLIAMENTS, a little doo wop group he had with his barbershop buddies Calvin Simon, Fuzzy Haskins, Ray Davis, and George Clinton. Grady was so shocked he almost ran off the road. “I liked to have an accident,” he laughs. At a stop, he discovered that the single was among the records he was about to carry into the store. “That was the start of us going from local yokels to a respectable group,” he says. 

Born 80 years ago in Newark, New Jersey, Grady was musically inclined from an early age. He started playing drums on pots and pans at 9, then moved on to bongos. His pops played the saxophone, so Grady told him he wanted to learn, too. His dad handed him the clarinet. Grady was definitively nonplussed. He couldn’t stand that “corny” sound. So he might as well sing. At Cleveland Junior High, he did just that with his buddy Calvin Simon—or “Big Cal” as “Shady” Grady calls him, “tall drink of water.” 

But our story really begins with a hairdo all the brothers wanted back then: the process, where lye is used to straighten one’s curls. As a young man, Grady had one like any respectable soul singer, but it needed upkeep. “You’d get your hair done one week, and the next week your hair started falling apart,” Grady explains. “We had to go back and get a reset.” He usually went to his favorite spot, Supreme, but one day, in need of hairdo surgery once again, he found himself in a van parked in front of some dude’s house. There a barber reset Grady’s ‘do with nothing but a comb and a glass of water. “And that guy happened to be GC,” he says, aka George Clinton.

Sometime after that, Grady relocated to Plainfield, the Parliaments’ home base. They picked up Fuzzy Haskins from another band along the way, while Grady played the role of bass vocalist. But then they saw Ray Davis singing bass with another group and were blown away by his sound. They had to make room for him. “I told George… ‘Let me move up to baritone and see if we can get Ray,” explains Grady. “Ray always wanted to be with us, you know? I pulled Ray over with us and then we were all set.”

It’s important to remember that Grady was present for not only the formation of the Parliaments, but also their backing band, Funkadelic. A kid named Billy Nelson who hung around the barbershop was on guitar at first, but they needed someone new before he switched over to bass. Billy said he knew this guy named Eddie, so they had him come to Grady’s house to audition. “But you know what?” says Grady of the teenaged Eddie Hazel. “He wasn’t that doggone good… We told him ‘You sound good man, but don’t call us. We’ll call you.’” When Eddie came back sometime later, it was clear he had taken the criticism to heart. “Man, he was a terror,” recalls Grady of Hazel’s much improved guitar skills. “He was so bad.”

Most P-Funk fans know how the tale goes from there. The group’s humble vocal quintet origins began to blend with then give way to a whole new sound that was more about rockin FUNK. And from the self-titled Funkadelic and Parliament’s Osmium (1970), to the Clones of Dr. Funkenstein and Hardcore Jollies(1976), Grady had a blast taking it to the stage as part of the ever-expanding Parliament-Funkadelic caravan. “In them days, man, we was so happy and loving each other,” he says. 

But throughout, there were red flags that weren’t always heeded in real time. According to Thomas, some vocal hooks that GC wound up taking credit for actually sprang forth at live shows.  Examples of such jam-fueled compositions are “You and Your Folks, Me and My Folks,” “I Got A Thing, You Got A Thing,” and other anthems. “Some of them songs we started on stage,” confirms Grady. “Next thing I know, some smart guy went to the studio without us and finished them.”

Indeed, the joys of success often made it hard to see that his best interests weren’t always being taken into account, especially when it came to credit and money. “I was just enjoying myself, making people happy… and dropping acid,” says Grady. “I wasn’t thinkin about no business. I was out there — sex, drugs, and rock and roll. I didn’t have to work at General Motors… We were ridin around the country… That was such a wonderful time.” 

But by the time the late 70s came around, things stopped feeling so wonderful. George had brought in so many band members and inter-related musical entities that the OGs felt pushed to the side, with little financial reward to show for it. So Fuzzy, Calvin, and Grady put together a group, got a deal, and released Connections & Disconnections in 1980, co-produced with Greg Errico, drummer for Sly & the Family Stone and producer of Betty Davis. (The album has since been reissued under the name Who’s a Funkadelic?)

The fact that they called the group Funkadelic turned out to be a legal issue that annoyed the hell out of George, but the album itself is a gooey headwrecker, with funktastic tracks like “Connections,” “Call the Doctor,” “Who’s a Funkadelic?” and “The Witch,” a Wizard of Oz-inspired, 10-minute opus of dopeness created mostly by Grady, who was encouraged to write something that celebrated their newfound freedom. On composing the lyrics, Thomas quips: “It wasn’t hard to do because at that time we were so relieved not to be handled by the witch.” 

Grady would wind up going back to sing with the P-Funk All-Stars here and there, but eventually he broke off to start a group with the other fellas again. This time they brought Ray Davis along and dubbed the conglomerate Original P — all the Parliaments except GC. They did an album for Westbound, What Dat Shakin’ (1998), and took the act on the road.  Grady still talks about these times favorably today. “As much as I loved being a member of Parliament-Funkadelic,” he says, “this was really the best time of my life because now we was in control of our own destiny.” Thankfully, part of Grady’s destiny included receiving accolades for his work with P-Funk. In 1997, Prince inducted him along with 14 other original members of Parliament-Funkadelic into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Grady was also present to receive a Lifetime Achievement Award at the Grammys.

Today Grady lives in Stone Mountain, Georgia, an area he loves. And after surviving eye surgery, a stroke, and congenital heart failure, he’s managed to push any hard feelings toward GC to the side. “Me personally, I wish them the best,” he says of Clinton and his current crew. “I wasn’t tryin to outdo them. We was just tryin to do it… The good times outweigh the bad times regardless.” And the door is always open for Thomas to come back for another Mothership ride. “I know I could go back there anytime I want. All I got to do is show up.” But this time he’ll make sure he’s well protected with a contract.

In this rare gem of an interview, Grady raps about riding with the Parliaments from New Jersey to Chicago to

** visit acedoutpodcast.com to see photos and more **

2021 is the year that MARSHALL THOMPSON—driving force and choreographer for Chicago hitmakers the CHI-LITES—shimmies from star to superstar status. Specifically, his group has been selected for inclusion among this year’s additions to the Hollywood Walk of Fame. And it’s been a long time coming. Between 1969 and 1974, the Chi-Lites sold millions of copies of their 11 top ten hits, including their eternal crowning achievements, “Have You Seen Her” (from [For God’s Sake] Give More Power to the People, 1971) and “Oh Girl” (from A Lonely Man, 1972). 

The honor of receiving a Hollywood star brings things full circle for Thompson, as Gladys Knight will be performing for the occasion. She’s the one who gave Marshall his first big break—on the drums. As a teen, he was always sneaking into the Regal Theatre, only to be tossed out into the snow by the bouncer. But when he found out that Knight would be appearing, he hatched a plan. He rehearsed for weeks in the family basement, mastering the beats to all of her songs. Then he went and got himself some slick threads: cross tie, patent leather shoes, black slacks, and white shirt. When he showed up at the Regal on the big night, he looked like all the other fellas in the house band. So he walked right in with everybody else, the bouncer none the wiser. 

Now this was big time. The band was at least two dozen pieces, led by none other than Red Saunders! Yet his drummer just couldn’t get the feel down. This was Thompson’s big chance. “The drummer couldn’t play the music,” he recalls “So I raised my hand… ‘Hey Ms. Gladys! Can I play your show?’ She said, ‘Come on up here. Showtime is in about 2 hours and this guy’s messin up.’” He got the gig and played with her for the week. From there, he got a chance to record with Jackie Wilson, and toured with Major Lance.  

Despite all this success on the skins, dancing and singing would prove to be Thompson’s true calling. He was part of a group called the Desideros with Creadel “Red” Jones. They were frenemies with another clique of singers, the Chanteurs, which included Robert “Squirrel” Lester and songwriter Eugene Record. They would battle all the time.  “They could sing real good, and we could dance real good,” Marshall explains. So when both bands broke up, they knew it would be a smart play to join forces. “We went over to their group and I taught them to dance and they had to teach us how to sing like them,” he says. 

Marshall & the Hi-Lites was born. Throughout the 60s, they pounded the pavement, trying to make it. They recorded singles on local labels, but by the time they got signed to Brunswick, they discovered another band was already using the ‘Hi-Lites’ name. So they decided to change it to ‘Chi-Lites’ in honor of their homebase. That was the good luck charm, because not long after the 70s rolled in, they scored their first million-selling single, “(For God’s Sake) Give More Power to the People.” 

But “Have You Seen Her” was the real groundbreaker. It was a B-side at first, a tune that the Chi-Lites’ band hadn’t even bothered to rehearse for live shows. Then one night, when the group was out on the road at a gig, the crowd started screaming and hollering for the song. So they sang it a cappella, over and over again for 15 minutes. After that, they were selling 10k copies per day. The amazing part was the song clocked in at over five minutes, twice as long as the average single in those days. “We didn’t think we were gonna get it on the radio,” says Marshall. “It was too long… But the record started selling so much they said ‘Leave it like it is.’” 

From there, the hits just kept coming. And along the way, Marshall made some amazing contributions to music history outside of the group as well. In this rare gem of an interview, Marshall talks about being managed by Muhammad Ali in the early years, how he started Soul Train with his good friend Don Cornelius, and helping Joe Jackson and the Jackson Five get their start, introducing them to Bobby Taylor. Thompson also raps about being the Chi-Lite’s official hairdresser, why engineer Bruce Vadim built a special microphone for each member, and how they developed their dance moves and harmonies. 

Produced & Hosted by Ace Alan
Cohosted by Jay Stone
w/ Content Produced by Renee Michele Collins, Nat Collins, & Jay Stone
Website & Art by 3chards
In-Studio Pics by Debbie Jue
Engineered by Nick “Waes” Carden at the Blue Room in Oakland, CA 

But we couldn’t have done it without Mawnstr and especially Scott Sheppard

Intro track “I Can Never Be” from Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth by the Funkanauts. Go get it wherever music is sold. RIP Brotha P.

Next Episode: Grady Thomas 

** visit acedoutpodcast.com to see photos and more **

By the time guitar hero ANDRE FOXXE (P-Funk/Jimmy G and the Tackheads/Incorporated Thang Band/Psychedelic Ghetto Pimpz) was in his early 20s, he had a production deal with the legendary Don Davis at United Sound, the funk pride of Detroit. Amazingly, that gave him free reign in a place where Johnnie Taylor and Aretha Franklin were also actively laying tracks. And of course, George Clinton was there as well. Andre still had much to learn, but he was so glad he wasn’t working some job or back out on the street ducking bullets, he just acted like he knew while soaking everything up. “All I did was watch George Clinton… and took notes in my mind,” he explains, “I just imitated what I saw them do… And I never told nobody I didn’t know what the fuck I was doin.”

Indeed, Foxxe had the drive and talent to be in the room. But how did he get there in the first place? As it so happens, he literally walked through the door. It all started one fateful day in 1979, when a friend of Andre’s who kept bragging he was buddies with someone in PARLET asked him for a ride to the Funk Festival at the Pontiac Silverdome. When Andre showed up at the dude’s house, he was surprised to see Parliament-Funkadelic singers Ray Davis, Jessica Cleaves, Shirley Hayden, and Sheila Horne (aka Amuka) there as well. All hopped in 18-year-old Andre’s little yellow Duster and they went to the gig.

Once there, they parted company and left Andre to wander around by himself. “I’m walking down this little hallway,” he remembers. “I hear good music playing behind this door. It wasn’t marked or anything. So, I’m inquisitive… I open the door and walk in. It was George Clinton and Bootsy Collins listening to a song called ‘Knee Deep’ that they were working on at the time. “

Well damn. Andre’s presence didn’t seem to bother the two funk superheroes, so he stayed put. That’s when he noticed this kid, a bit younger than him, standing there, too. “I said, ‘What you doin in here?’” Andre recalls. “He goes, ‘That’s my dad right there.’ And I was like ‘That ain’t your dad!’ He goes, ‘What are YOU doin in here?’ I go ‘I just heard that music.’” As it turned out, the kid was Tracey aka Trey Lewd, who then invited Andre to join him onstage to sing part of “Flashlight” that very night. 

Two weeks later, Clinton and songwriter/producer Ron Dunbar offered Andre a job as a driver. They even got him some new wheels for the gig. “Everybody that was within Parliament-Funkadelic from ‘79 to like ‘81 I drove around in this green van,” he says. Meanwhile, Andre’s skills as a multi-instrumentalist—though he was still keeping quiet about them for the most part—were starting to come into play. He joined Trey’s project Plastic Brain Slam for a time, along with Steve Pannell and Trey’s brother Daryl Clinton.  

That fizzled out, but Clinton and Davis were starting to take notice of Andre’s musical acumen.  He was pulled into George’s little brother’s project, Jimmy G and the Tackheads, who put out the fantastic and underrated Federation of Tackheads (1985). Then Jimmy G fell off and Andre found himself in the driver’s seat of the Incorporated Thang Band’s Lifestyles of the Roach and Famous (1988). Throughout, Andre was also writing and recording with serious cats like the almighty Junie Morrison and Blackbyrd McKnight, contributing cuts to Clinton joints like You Shouldn’t-Nuf Bit Fish (1983) and R&B Skeletons in the Closet (1986).  But receiving credit and money for this valuable work wasn’t always in the cards. So it’s good that Foxxe further solidified his contributions to the P with his classic solo joint, I’m Funk and I’m Proud (P-Vine, 1994)—featuring a who’s who of funkateers—as well as releases from his Psychedelic Ghetto Pimpz.

However, despite Andre’s determination and success, his transition from driver to player within the P-Funk team wasn’t necessarily a smooth one.  “When I started doing it, of course nobody took me serious,” he explains. “Hell, I just picked you up from the airport!” Unfortunately, when his guitar game got strong enough that he was offered a job in the band, things didn’t get better. In fact, they kinda got worse. “That’s when I really started catchin it,” he laments. “And when I decided to develop an image in that thang… that set a few people back as well.” Specifically, the O.G.’s didn’t seem to appreciate Andre grabbing eyeballs with his stage outfit: a bridal gown, which he first put on as a dare inspired by his recent marriage as well as his dedication to the Funk. But even George seemed to be hating on it. “From there on… I just got a little resistance from those guys,” he says. “It was weird…  I thought it was part of the gig. I didn’t know it was creating animosity… I was bringing my A game.”

But Andre persisted, and over the course of the mid 80s to 2014 he performed with the P-Funk AllStars, sharing the stage with Blackbyrd, Garry Shider, Mike Hampton, and Billy Bass. “We all were expected to do the job,” says Andre about holding his own while doing the gig. “You’re not on the stage if you’re unqualified… Because, if you can’t do it, there’s 15 other cats that can come up here and outdo you. So if you got the blessing to do this job you better do these parts… And that’s how I was able to stay focused.” 

But life as a funk soldier wasn’t always what it was cracked up to be, and Andre was constantly in and out of the lineup. “I think I’ve been fired more than anybody in the whole P-Funk organization,” he quips. But nowadays the wisdom of hindsight has overruled any ill will he’s had toward George Clinton in the past. “I’ve said some bad things about that cat, and I’m sure he said some bad things about me too,” he admits, “But I realized I really love the dude… He was like Dad…. In families and relationships, you go back and forth with the parental figures… I can see his worth to the world and the music industry. I get it now. Because he’s a very valuable dude. He should be an American treasure, if you ask me.”

In this unique, insightful hangout session, Foxxe talks about first wanting to play bass because of his love for Jermaine Jackson, becoming a guitar player while high on mescaline at Garry and Linda Shider’s house, and what P-Funk songs he helped create but never got credit for. He also talks about touring in Africa with afrobeat drummer/innovator Tony Allen, working as an A&R guy for Japan’s P-Vine records, his lifelong friendship with Amp Fiddler, and what it was like having EDDIE “Maggot Brain” HAZEL as a mentor and roommate for four years. 

Produced & Hosted by Ace Alan
Cohosted by Jay Stone
w/ Content Produced by Jay Double You! & Andre Foxxe
Website & Art by 3chards
Engineered by Nick “Waes” Carden at the Blue Room in Oakland, CA

But we couldn’t have done it without Mawnstr and especially Scott Sheppard

Intro track “I Can Never Be” from Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth by the Funkanauts. Go get it wherever music is sold. RIP Brotha P.

This episode is dedicated to Bay Area Legend SHOCK G (August 25, 1963 – April 22, 2021)

** visit acedoutpodcast.com to see photos and more **

“When you think of Motown, you think of Detroit,” explains timbale player RICHARD SEGOVIA, celebrating his 42nd year with his band PURO BANDIDO. “When you think of LATIN ROCK, it’s right there in the MISSION”—the Mission District that is, the legendary San Francisco neighborhood where the genre was born. And a very young Segovia—now affectionately known to the community as the “Mayor of the Mission”—was right there to see the birth of this new sound.

According to Richard, it all started with the Aliens, a five-piece formed at Mission High School in 1964 by Nicaraguan and El Salvadorian immigrants inspired by Ritchie Valens and the neighboring Haight Ashbury scene.  “They were the first kinda Latin Rock band,” Segovia explains. One night, CARLOS SANTANA, then a promising young guitarist playing in a blues band, went to see the Aliens at a club called the Night Life. Santana was inspired—it occurred to him that he needed lots of percussion to give his music that special fire. That’s where his fellow future Rock and Roll Hall of Famer JOSE “CHEPITO” AREAS came in. “It was Chepito who brought percussion into Santana,” Segovia asserts. “Chepito brought the conga, the timbale, and added that to blues—changed the whole thing… Everybody wanted to play music after that.”

Suddenly the hood’s troubled youth—with the crime and violence always inevitable where there is lack of money and opportunity—found a new direction. “We went from the battle of the barrios to the battle of the bands,” confirms Segovia. For his part, he joined his first band, Dungeon Sounds, on timbales because the drummer and conga positions had already been taken. They played everywhere they could, doing songs by Santana, Malo, and Azteca. “That was our top 40,” he says.

The band broke up after a couple years, but Richard kept going, joining Por Vida and then Mbuhai, the latter band challenging his musical abilities considerably. “These guys were way over my head,” he confirms. “The conga player didn’t want to play with me because I didn’t know shit!” They practiced five days a week and, as always, it was sink or swim. “Nobody gave up any information back then,” he explains. “Either you had it, or you didn’t… Nobody’s gonna teach you. You got to learn it on your own… If you didn’t get it right away—‘Next!’”

Meanwhile, the Latin Rock scene wasn’t off on an island of its own. Everybody was paying attention and needed some for themselves, even super funk blasters like Larry Graham, who offered Mbuhai an opening slot with Graham Central Station in Redwood City. As it turned out, Clive Davis and many other record execs were in the crowd that night. The next day, Brent Dangerfield, who’d produced Santana, offered to produce Mbuhai for CBS Records.

If that weren’t enough, a gig opening for Graham Central Station at the Soul Train club on Broadway led to Don Cornelius asking Mbuhai to be his house band. Next thing they knew, they were supporting acts like Minnie Riperton, Stevie Wonder, Isaac Hayes, the Bar Kays, and Eddie Kendricks. Unfortunately, the Mbuhai album was recorded yet shelved due to circumstances outside the band’s control. But all of this experience had taught Richard how to be a leader himself. So from 1979 to today, he has presided over his badass band PURO BANDIDO—with guitarist Johnny Gunn as his “co-jefe” since ’85.

But music is just a portion of what Segovia brings to Latin Rock culture. He is also a major producer and promoter of its artistic aesthetic, a drive that culminates into his crowning achievement: turning his own home into an SF landmark. A few years ago, he was approached by the Precita Eyes Muralists Association, a local nonprofit that does all the murals in the Mission. Under a grant from the California Arts Commission and through the Urban Youth Arts Program, Segovia was asked if he wanted to have his house—the same one on the corner of York & 25th that his parents had bought in the early 60s—to be covered with a mural. He could choose the theme, anything he wanted.

Chewing on this opportunity, Segovia went to visit his buddy, Ishmael Versoza aka “Irish,” keyboardist and original member of the Fabulous Malibus, who later became Malo. Richard saw that Irish had some cool old band pictures on the wall. The conclusion was obvious. “I’ve been a Latin Rock player for 52 years,” says Richard, recalling his thought process. “Why don’t I dedicate the mural to Carlos Santana for bringing Latin Rock music to the Mission District?”

Soon, artists from age 5 to 45 were covering his house, dubbed CASA BANDIDO, with wonderful paintings of almost 100 Latin Rock Legends, including Carlos’ late brother Jorge Santana, great friend to Segovia and co-creator of the Mission anthem, Malo’s “Suavecito.” As Richard explains, “I decided to preserve what we have left—because all the techies are coming into the neighborhood buying up all our stuff and I wanted the neighborhood to know I aint’ goin nowhere, man. I’m sticking here. I’m gonna die here.”

Finally, Segovia is a true community leader, a man who knows how to organize with boundless energy when it comes to working with kids, teaching them how to be safe and play a little music. He has received numerous honors and countless thank-you letters over the years from citizens and politicians alike. In fact, before he passed, SF Mayor Ed Lee announced that September 17th is Richard Segovia Day. On October 16, 2021, Richard will hold a free concert at La Raza Park, where he will pay tribute to the too many greats who have left us recently, including Jorge Santana, Armando Parraza, Malo singer Arcelio Garcia, Raul Rico, and Rudy Salas. And before the show, he will unveil additions to his mural, including Pete, Sheila E., and the rest of the Escovedo family.

In this energetic, educational, and laughter-filled interview, the Mayor discusses the African roots of the clave, why he loved Bill Graham, and playing for Eddie Money from ‘85 until his passing. Richard also talks about how his uncle Michael V. Rios designed the cover for Santana’s Grammy-winning Supernatural album at Casa Bandido, what it’s like hanging out with Al Hendrix, father to Jimi, and what the lyrics to “La Cucaracha” are really about. If all of that weren’t enough, Jay and Ace had so much fun with Richard that, less than two weeks after this interview was recorded, they performed with him alongside members of Puro Bandido, and Irish (!) from Malo at an event at the house.

Produced & Hosted by Ace Alan
Cohosted & Coproduced by Jay Stone
Website & Art by 3chards
In-studio Photos and by Debbie Jue
Engineered by Dominic Brown at Soul Graffiti Studios in Oakland, CA with thanks to & Justin Ancheta, Andrew, & Alex Scammon

…but we couldn’t have done it without Scott Sheppard

** visit acedoutpodcast.com to see photos and more **

If you’ve hit up a GEORGE CLINTON & the P-FUNK ALL-STARS show anytime over the last 30 years, you’ve seen a whole lotta STEVE BOYD, the golden-voiced Detroit doo wop master originally of the group FIVE SPECIAL, best known for their hit “Why Leave Us Alone,” (produced by Wayne Henderson of the Jazz Crusaders). But when Boyd first toured with the Funkensteins, it was as an opening act.

It was the early 90s. Boyd had recently signed a solo deal with iconic funk label Westbound Records, (Funkadelic/Ohio Players/et al), and it was time to promote his album Even Steven. So the record company sent him and his band Private School out on the road with the P, an obvious fit for Steve’s stuff. Besides, he’d already known the Parliament-Funkadelic fam going back to the late 70s, when they shared Detroit’s United Sound as home base. That’s why Steve wasn’t exactly shocked when, once the six-month campaign was over, George turned to him and said, “You might as well stay on with me and be in the group.”

Next thing Boyd knew, dope dawg Michael “Clip” Payne was pulling his coat and showing him how to P-form like an All-Star. “I learned all my lyrics and where to stand,” he remembers. “When to come onstage, when to leave.” But onboarding the P-Funk train made sense from the jump. “Going from doo wop to P-Funk was an easy transition for me,” he explains. “The Parliaments, they started out with doo wop, so it was just like a continuation for them—to keep that flavor goin on that keeps right inside of the funk.” And from then to right about now, Boyd has been a major part of each and every P-Funk performance, averaging about 200 dates a year, five hours per show, doin the damn thing and regularly steppin in to swing down for the late, great Glenn Goins on stank standards like “Funkin’ for Fun” and “Bop Gun.”

Indeed, Boyd has come a long way since the days of his youth, gangbanging and stealing cars with his crew in Detroit. In fact, it was the then-thriving independent music scene—best exemplified by United Sound, studio of legendary producer Don Davis—that steered Steve in a different direction. “I was born into the environment of doo wop and record making and songwriting,” he confirms. And when he was brought into Five Special as a replacement, he soon found himself at U.S. as well. “It pretty much was like a record-making machine there at United Sound with all the various projects goin on at that time,” he remembers. “From Anita Baker, Brides of Funkenstein, Parlet, the Dramatics, Aretha Franklin… It was a whole big party goin on.”

Some of this funky elbow bumping resulted in essential ingredients for any funkateers’ collection: the self-titled debut Five Special (1979) and the filthy-mac-nasty-infused follow-up Special Edition (1980), featuring no less than Bernie Worrell and the Horny Horns to name a few, with the kick-off infectious banger “Jam (Let’s Take It To The Streets).”  The group’s breakup failed to slow Steve down. He stayed in the studio throughout the 80s on into the 90s and beyond as a highly sought-after commodity, shining like a dogstar as writer and performer on P-Funk albums like Dope Dogs (1994), The Awesome Power of a Fully Operational Mothership (1996) and How Late Do U Have 2BB4UR Absent? (2005). But you’re missing out if you sleep on Boyd’s solo joints, well-written and produced releases like The Lost Tapes Vol. 1 (2008) and 4:20 Drive Time (2001). His latest 5-song EP, Live in Austin Texas (2019), is especially funktastic, featuring Clip Payne, Mike “Kidd Funkadelic” Hampton, and Kendra Foster from D’Angelo’s crew.

These days you might catch Steve at his mom’s house in South Carolina, listening to a podcast while watching the news on ten different streams at once. Or he might be in Atlanta, recording music with his son. But wherever he is, he’s not gonna take the idea of George Clinton being “retired” all that seriously. “He gon’ do it till he drop, man,” Steve asserts. “He ain’t ready to stop yet… I can tell you don’t nobody be fillin out no applications.”

In this super laid back hangout session, Steve explains what a “40-minute Funkadelic” is, recalls his days as a Golden Gloves welterweight boxer, runs down why it’s fun singing with George Clinton, and describes giving Anthony Keidis some help with his vocals throughout the Red Hot Chili Peppers’ Freaky Styley sessions. Boyd also talks about getting personal compliments and singing advice from Aretha Franklin, helping out El DeBarge in a street fight before a recording session in San Francisco, the strong possibility of a Five Special reunion going down in the near future, and that time Prince served him purple rice at Paisley Park.

Produced & Hosted by Ace Alan
Cohosted by Jay Stone
w/ Content Produced by Jay Double You! & Steve Boyd
Website & Art by 3chards
Engineered, Edited & Photographed by Nick “Waes” Carden at the Blue Room in Oakland, CA
Official Poster Art by Steven Yu w/ Thanx to Debbie Jue
But we couldn’t have done it without Mawnstr and especially Scott Sheppard

** visit acedoutpodcast.com to see photos and more **

FUNK FAM: 

This is your boy Ace. Like the rest of you, last year brought us our share of heartbreak. Specifically, on Nov 6, 2020, we lost a member of the FUNKANAUTS—guitar wizard, bassologist, soul rock encyclopedia, and Bay Area CA legend PATRICK OWENS, whom many of us knew as BROTHA P. We dedicate this special episode to him and humbly submit it to help heal the heart and soul of the devoted family he left behind as well as the multitude of musicians who loved him.

Pat knew more about funk than anyone else in the room at any given time, quick to clown us for lacking knowledge about this or that with the quip: “You didn’t know that?” But he was also a roots reggae master, highly respected and sought out by expert practitioners of the craft. All told, he played with a lot of players, rocked many a crowd, and taught us a lot about anything we needed to know.

Patrick hardly told anyone how sick he was until it was too late, so his passing was a shock to all of us. Indeed, we’re still trying to process this, looking for a little closure. That’s why we wanted to take some time to regroup and make sure we did this right. A big part of that is gathering the people to represent for our Brotha P properly. And you are a big part of Pat’s legacy too. So get ready to sit back, dig, and lend us your ears.

First of all, joining Jay Stone and I in the studio, we are pleased to welcome the almighty-bigfoot-Funkanaut-OG-drummer John “MACFAB” Flaherty. He and Jay set the stage by telling us how the Nauts came to be and how Patrick became an essential ingredient in the stanky stew. Next we check in with P’s mom Dorothy, then chop it up with P’s cousin Theresa, who loved him like a sister. After that, we holla at Richard Lindsey, whose P-Funk tribute band Purifiedment Funkensurance Patrick had been musical director for a spell. Then we speak with some cats who also gigged with Brotha P a lot and loved him like a brother: Trinidadian bad azz drummer Tony D Drumologist, guitarist and studio engineer Ron van Leeuwaarde, and roots reggae bassist Densfield Alexander. Finally, P’s cousin Jackie Owens helps us send him off with a final tribute. 

Produced & Hosted by Ace Alan
Cohosted & Coproduced by Jay Stone and John “MacFab” Flaherty
w/ Content Produced by Theresa Owens Ree Ree
Website & Art by 3chards
In-studio Photos by Debbie Jue
Engineered by Dominic Brown at Soul Graffiti Studios in Oakland, CA with thanks to Justin Ancheta
…but we couldn’t have done it without Scott Sheppard

“I have literally danced my entire life,” says SWEET LD, OG member of MC HAMMER and the POSSE and its pioneering, all-women offshoot OAKTOWN 357. And as a young lady living in the East Bay, CA in the 80s, that was just about all LD aka Suhayla Sabir and her friends ever wanted to do. She especially loved to frequent a place called Silk’s in Emeryville because it had three floors, each with its own jams to get down to. “Silk’s was my spot,” she recalls. “We were always there. We would go and get in as soon as we could—stand in that long line—and then we would stay until the sun came up. That was just our M.O.”

Suhayla was there one night when she noticed MC Hammer, who was just trying to get his feet wet as an artist/performer at the time. He was no joke on the floor, just killing the cabbage patch, a dance she had just learned herself—but not like that! She became so fixated that afterwards she and her friends followed him to a gas station. Hammer, paying himself the compliment that she was trying to flirt, was caught off guard when she simply asked: “Can you teach me to do the cabbage patch?”

Weeks later, she was part of his core clique. “We were literally just hanging out. It was just about the dance. We would just tear that dance floor up.” In other words, she had no thoughts of bustin moves professionally, much less making music herself. But that all changed one night when Hammer asked her and a friend if they wanted to be in a music video. “We were excited because we thought that being in a video meant that we were just going to be cute,” she says. “You know—wear the cute outfit, be the cute girl… He had something totally different in mind.”

So Suhayla found herself at long, rigorous rehearsals, running choreography and sweating from mid-afternoon till midnight. “We were not excited about that initially,” she says. Music videos were still pretty new at that time and she had never thought about what went into making one. “It became like ‘Do we have to keep showing up?’ Cuz we were really showing up out of good faith… It was kind of a confusing time.” Meanwhile, two key sistas entered the scene as well: Phyllis Charles and Tabitha Zee King-Brooks.

Eventually, Hammer did clue the ladies in: he wanted them to be backup dancers for his whole show. They performed everywhere they could as MC Hammer and the Posse, and the ladies—aka Sweet LD, Lil P, and Terrible T—brought their high-voltage, superhype dance style to classic videos like “Let’s Get It Started,” “Pump It Up,” and “Turn This Mutha Out.” Things began to build so fast that Hammer negotiated a deal to partner his Bust-It imprint with Capitol Records. That’s when he began formulating a plan to produce a female rapper. He had been auditioning girls for the gig when, messing around between songs at a rehearsal, Lil P grabbed a mic and started busting the song “Tramp” by Salt-N-Pepa. Hammer liked what he heard and approached P about becoming a solo artist.  She agreed—but only if her homegirls Terrible T and Sweet LD would rap with her.

Oaktown 357 was born, and their debut Wild & Loose (1989) was a smash, with hit singles/videos for “Yeah Yeah Yeah” and “Straight at You.” Now the ladies were busier than ever—on the road opening for Hammer and then doing his set, all while training new dancers as they came into the fold. But things took a hard turn when the Posse appeared on the Arsenio Hall Show. Backstage after the taping, everyone was presented with a check—for an amount that actually seemed decent. For the ladies of Oaktown, it was a revelation. With Hammer, they had always been wondering about getting paid, or why they weren’t. This seemed to confirm that their blood and sweat was worth a lot more.

Lil P left outright, leaving Terrible T and LD to regroup amongst themselves. “I could understand why Lil P left,” remembers LD. “But… I wanted to know that I could see it through. So we talked and we determined between the two of us that we would stay… and that we would work well enough together to make them change their minds about how they treated us.” The sistas soldiered on without missing a step, enjoying hit singles/videos for remixes of “We Like It” and the smash “Juicy Gotcha Crazy.” They also appeared on the West Coast classic antiviolence cut “We’re All in the Same Gang” alongside N.W.A., Tone Loc, and Ice T. And the ladies stepped up their game for their follow-up album Fully Loaded (1991), a crowning achievement and one of the most underrated gems of the era.

Today, as a mom, fitness instructor, and published poet, Sweet LD remains proud of Oaktown 357’s legacy. “We did the damn thing—period,” she asserts. “We invested in ourselves to show up and do the work and then we created something and shared it with everybody in this world. And today they still look at us as someone who changed the dynamic for women in hip hop.” Indeed! In this inspiring, behind-the-scenes interview, Sweet LD raps about growing up watching her cousin Choc’let get down with Graham Central Station, how Hammer taught her how to “build” a dance in order to tell a story, and why the deceptive nature of the music industry means you need to ask questions. She also talks about how 357 songs were created in the studio, her recent comeback performances alongside acts like Lady of Rage and 702, and that time Prince personally gave her a tour of Paisley Park and kissed her hand.

Produced & Hosted by Ace Alan
Cohosted by Jay Stone
w/ Content Produced by Patryce “Choc’Let” Banks and Sweet LD
Website & Art by 3chards
In-studio Photos by Debbie Jue
Engineered by Dominic Brown, Alex Scammon, & Justin Ancheta at Soul Graffiti Studios in Oakland, CA
…but we couldn’t have done it without Scott Sheppard

When SHIRLEY HAYDEN [PARLET/P-FUNK] auditioned for Parliament-Funkadelic in singer Malia Franklin’s family basement, she was scared. It was the late 70s and, like every other artist raised in Detroit, she had already been a fan of George Clinton’s clan, then in the midst of recording the stank staple One Nation Under a Groove. “It was a hell of an audition,” she remembers. “The band was hot as hell and I had to show them what I had.” But Hayden was a triple threat—with the look, ability, and charisma to get it done. “It was natural,” she says.

It was so natural in fact that Shirley found herself recording, rehearsing and touring for such classics as Motor Booty Affair (1978), Gloryhallastoopid (1979), and Trombipulation (1980) —all while learning to navigate the waters without getting wet. “Each opportunity I was given to sing, to perform, I pushed myself into taking it because I was somewhat shy,” she explains.  “There’s a lot of different characters going on around here and I don’t know who’s who. It’s always 15, 20, 30 people around. I was trying to fit in… How do I fit in?”

Evidently, Shirley fit in just right. She was chosen to join a “second phase“ version of sister group PARLET, replacing the legendary Debbie Wright — (sister to Jim Wright aka Jay Double You!, and Shirley’s former boo) — and appearing on Invasion of the Booty Snatchers (1979) and Play Me Or Trade Me (1980). Hayden recalls it as a fun, beautiful, creative time. “The female energy,” she says. “We were all young and learning… I was an empty vessel just willing to soak it all in.”

Nonetheless, as exciting as it all was, Shirley also remembers things could get frustrating. “Here it is,” she says, recreating her headspace at the time. “Your dream is happening. You’re singing on a professional level… You’ve gone to the next level of your craft, which is exciting… You’re accepted by the masses.” Yet she found herself asking the same question over and over: “How am I going to get paid for doing this?” Indeed, which way the cash flowed wasn’t always clear, and she had responsibilities outside of going to yet another after-party—most importantly, a young daughter whom she had to leave for short periods in order to work. “I could not afford to hang,” she says.

On top of that, there was friction between bandmates—particularly about who should be out front. “It was vicious,” says Hayden, “because it created this tension.” However, it all seemed to be part of Dr. Funkenstein’s diabolical plan. “That’s what I believe George Clinton loved,” she explains. “He was fed off of the tension… He wanted to take all that energy and take it to the stage. That’s what made the show so exciting — because people were releasing all their inhibitions.” Still, the strain often meant that animosity and ambition overruled sisterly love. “It is a shame,” Shirley surmises. “And I don’t know why because each one of you is a star. The light shines on all of us… Why can’t we share the spotlight?”  

Hayden also has her issues with how the ladies of the P-Funk canon have been acknowledged since—or not so much. “I’m a little disappointed and don’t understand as to why the women haven’t really been spoken of by George Clinton publicly,” she says. “We’re still fighting for our place in the Parliament musical history of things… Our vocals were ultra-important, played a big part in the shaping of that sound.” It especially hurt her feelings when she was not invited to participate in Parliament-Funkadelic’s 2019 Lifetime Achievement Grammy Award ceremonies or celebrations, relegating her to watching it on TV in her living room. But instead of being bitter, she has an optimistic belief that her due is on the horizon. “There are parties and events and awards that are in the future,” she asserts. “And I’m looking forward to the accolades that are coming… This music is eternal. It’s timeless.”

Shirley still lives in Detroit, making always-on-the-one jams with a crew called Black Planet, which includes Danny “Blackman” Harris and Sean “Papa” Franklin. But she never knew how important what she took to the stage back then would still be right now.  “To look back and see the growth and the evolution is just mesmerizing,” she says. “To see how far I’ve come in my life… There was a lot of beautiful creative energy flowing at that time. So I am very appreciative of being chosen to be part of the sister group Parlet... I really do thank George Clinton for the opportunity. Had no idea that it would be part of my life today. I’m very proud of the work that we did.”

In this chillaxed, edutaining interview, Ms. Hayden describes the hidden meanings behind P-Funk lyrics, her love for jazz vocalists like Sarah Vaughn and “auntie” Billie Holiday, and what it was like working with Kid Rock during his rise to fame— earning herself gold, platinum, and diamond albums with residuals that still provide for her family today. Shirley also talks about that time Jeanette Washington screamed at her over the phone, why she thinks Trombipulation is underrated, and her deep personal relationship with her big bother and role model Garry Shider.

Produced & Hosted by Ace Alan
Cohosted by Jay Stone
w/ Content Produced by Patryce “Choc’Let” Banks and Jay Stone
Website & Art by 3chards
In-studio Photos by Debbie Jue
Engineered by Justin Ancheta & Alex Scammon w/ Domick Brown at Soul Graffiti Studios in Oakland, CA
…but we couldn’t have done it without Scott Sheppard