Aced Out Podcast

WAYNE FOOTE aka “Foote Funk” never would have thought he’d be asked to replace Steve Arrington as lead singer in monster funk outfit SLAVE. After all, he was 19 years old, living with his folks just outside San Francisco in Daly City, while Slave were based out of Dayton, Ohio—part of the Ohio Player lineage and knee deep in a super-stank scene that included Zapp, Faze-O, Lakeside, Heatwave & Dayton. So how did this California kid wind up onstage opening shows with “Slide?”

Well, Wayne came up as a dancer, a kid in a troupe called the Master Locks. But by age 14 he found out he could sing Stevie Wonder songs acapella, plus funk up the drums and any other instrument he could get his hands on. So he had a group called Master Funk with buddy/bassist Darren Jones—until he left to start producing artists himself. That’s when someone connected Wayne with a woman named Kim who had two sisters that could sing.

So Foote went to their home in Pacifica to start showing the sisters the parts for a song they were to record. But after the ladies heard Wayne’s pipes, they said: “Naw, we don’t want you to produce us.” What? Wayne asked. “We want Mark to hear you.” Mark who? “Mark Adams.” Mark Adams, the bassist from Slave?! “That’s my husband,” said Kim. “We want you to be the new singer for Slave… We need you to replace Steve Arrington.”

Well, Wayne didn’t really believe what he was hearing. But sure enough, about a week later, he was cooking pancakes at home when the doorbell rang. He opened the door… it was Mark Adams! “That made a believer outta me,” remembers Wayne. He had every Slave album in his room. But he met the moment. “Instead of fainting,” he says, “I started singing for him.” Soon after that visit, Adams called Wayne and offered him a one-way ticket to Ohio, a per diem, and an apartment.

By spring of ’83, Foote was funkin with Slave. “These rehearsals were extremely intense,” says Wayne. “This was not a party for me… We would practice Monday through Friday, eight hours a day. I mean there was no breaks. If you had a cold, if you didn’t feel good—sorry! You gonna watch what we do. You sit to the side… I almost had a heart attack, man. This whole experience was extremely overwhelming for me. But I absorbed it and I lived it.”

Foote wound up becoming best buddies with Mark Hicks aka Drac, Slave’s guitar legend who played through over a dozen Marshall amps at once.  Drac even showed Foote the garage at his mom and dad’s where Slave was first formed. And Wayne just loved writing with the group. “We would write for hours,” he says. “Listening to instrumental music by Slave was an experience in itself.”

But the honeymoon was over when it came time to release their album Bad Enuff. Not only had they not paid Foote yet, but management wouldn’t even hook him up with funds to get his curl done for the album cover! And when he found out that he had been denied a lot of songwriting credit to boot, he quit and went back to California. Adams managed to lure him back months later to record New Plateau, an album on which singer/guitarist Danny Webster himself asked Foote to take the lead. The music was beautiful, with songs like “E.Z. Lovin’ You,” but lack of proper credit induced Foote to split for good and go solo.

Today, Foote Funk is clean and sober, living in SF, ready to tour again while also making films and art. In this laughter-filled, revealing interview, Wayne talks about the many problems with Slave’s management, his struggles with alcohol, being treated like royalty in England, and almost cutting his finger trying to play like Mark Adams. Foote also raps about trombonist Floyd Miller being the backbone of the group, the intense rivalry between Drac and Danny Webster, getting a good luck hug from Roger Troutman at the airport when Foote first joined Slave, and that time Webster hit him in the solar plexus with a guitar onstage.

“I think, if I didn’t have music, I wouldn’t know what I would be living for,” says EMILY PALEN, leader of Bay Area, CA superpower trio KNIGHTRESSM1. And from the sound of her soon-to-be-released album Dreams and Devastation, this composer, singer, producer, and shreddingly innovative violinist has gotta lot to live for these days. After all, her latest 12-track magnum opus was recorded at Dave Grohl’s Studio 606 with co-producer/engineer John Lousteau (Foo Fighters/Joan Jett/Iggy Pop), whom everyone calls ‘Lou.’ “He has an amazing recording bedside-manner,” says Emily. “Lou was really gracious and wise working with me and allowing me to get to the height of where I could at the time.”

Supported by just bass and drums, Palen’s violin replaces the guitar outright as the foundational, crunchy-riff-and-searing-solo machine of the band. Uniquely, she doesn’t use an electric but an acoustic violin—her sister’s in fact. This she plugs into a specially chosen amp for a sound that is heavy and even dirty as all hell, without sacrificing clarity. While all of this is going on, she sings lead. Indeed, as a live performer, Emily’s approach is striking. She seems to center herself into a sort of trance, conjuring a sincere urgency that successfully sells her music to the uninitiated. In fact, she imbues her stuff with a level of soulfulness seldom heard in today’s rock and metal scene.

Palen grew up in an atypically artistic family in Midland, Michigan, studying violin as a daily discipline since age four. But at some point, in the midst of training at the University of Michigan School of Music, she hit a wall. “I couldn’t do it anymore. It’s not the healthiest of environments,” she says of the classical scene. “It’s very competitive… There’s just a lot of pettiness.” Depressed with tendonitis and a drinking habit, she had to get out.

That’s when new sounds and styles started to take root. “When I quit music school, I kind of had a break with the discipline,” she explains. “You woodshed these pieces and you’re using one part of your brain, and I couldn’t do it anymore. So I had to find a workaround.” As a fan of “emotional metal,” she decided to start rockin—and hard. But the real breakthrough was just learning how to jam, to play freely outside the restraints of composition. “With improvisation you get to play how you feel in the moment,” she says, “which to me was a profound thing—coming from this background where everything needs to be totally perfect.”

Not long after this discovery, Palen found herself in California in the late 90s for a temporary stay. She fell in love with the place and never left. For seven years straight, she earned her living solely from busking in Union Square, San Francisco. “I hate having a boss,” she laughs. “I’ve been fired from more jobs than I have fingers and toes.” And though she was playing on the street for a living, she was hardly spinning her wheels. In fact, she was commissioned to record an album of solo improv, releasing Glass — Live at Grace Cathedral in 2012, followed by Creation the following year.

Not long after this discovery, Palen found herself in California in the late 90s for a temporary stay. She fell in love with the place and never left. For seven years straight, she earned her living solely from busking in Union Square, San Francisco. “I hate having a boss,” she laughs. “I’ve been fired from more jobs than I have fingers and toes.” And though she was playing on the street for a living, she was hardly spinning her wheels. In fact, she was commissioned to record an album of solo improv, releasing Glass — Live at Grace Cathedral in 2012, followed by Creation the following year.

Meanwhile, early incarnations of KnightressM1 had already begin taking root, with Palen writing heavier and heavier material while working with some of the best musicians in the Bay and beyond. Today, Emily lives in Oakland, 19-years-and-counting sober—and KM1 seems to have achieved an apotheosis of technically brilliant yet emphatically primal bad-assery, as we can already gleam from her advance singles/videos “Polarity Integrate,” “Lock And Key” — and soon to come, “Butterfly.”

Throughout the past decade, KnightressM1 has gigged frequently with Stymie & the Pimp Jones Luv Orchestra [see Episode 8], which is how Ace and Emily met. In fact, they recently reconnected at a local Stymie show, where Ace asked Em to come on the podcast next time she had something to promote. Lucky for us, that time has come—and she brought her violin to jam with Ace and Jay Stone on an old Sly & the Fam song to boot! (You are NOT going to want to miss that).

In this fun and inspiring interview, Emily gives advice to young ladies who might want to start their own band, describes how she “manifested” her performance with the Foo Fighters at Red Rocks Amphitheatre in Colorado, reveals her struggles with abuse, and explains why she tuned Dreams and Devastation to 528 Hz. She also provides a detailed rundown of how she concocted her signature sound, tells us why some spiritual gurus are bullies, explains why she and guitarist Eric McFadden are “peas in a pod,” and recalls that time John Paul Jones asked her for a violin lesson while they were rehearsing for a performance at the Grammys.

Don’t even get PATRYCE BANKS aka CHOC’LET from Graham Central Station started on the expression “old school,” which she can’t stand. “Here in America… it’s all about what is next,” she explains. “So anything that is vintage is considered old and old is considered no good… They want to throw everything old or experienced or vintage or classic away… So ‘old’ has a negative connotation.” Instead, she prefers to call it “true school,” or better yet, “BACK TO SCHOOL.”

In fact, when manager Dick Griffey got a very young Choc’let a gig opening for Sly & the Family Stone, she had already been going to “school,” performing and touring with bands for years—(Including a stint with Bobby & the Promises, a group she had with future GCS organist Robert “Butch” Sam, and Bobby Watson, who would later play in Rufus). At the show, though she was a self-described “Sly & the Family Stone freak” who highly admired every person in the band, Choc’let asked Griffey if she could meet just one member: fonk bass innovator Larry Graham.

Six months later, Choc’let found herself moving from her Los Angeles home to shack up with Larry in Oakland. When she first arrived, it was all she could have dreamed of and more. But soon reality set in. She found herself just sitting at home with Larry’s grandmother while he was out galivanting on the road. This would not do. So Choc’let told him things needed to change, and quick. That’s when the couple formed Hot Choc’let, a decision that would prove enormously consequential to both of their lives. Not long after that, circumstances compelled Larry to break with Sly & the Fam and join Hot Choc’let himself, changing the name to GRAHAM CENTRAL STATION.

After one of their regular gigs at the Orphanage in San Francisco, GCS was quickly snatched up by Warner Bros. Then Choc’let and the band toured all over the world and recorded some of the most pivotal fonk albums of all time: Graham Central Station, (her personal favorite), Release Yourself, and Ain’t No Doubt It Bout It. But somewhere along the line, this band that she had put so much blood and sweat into began selling a message she didn’t really believe in, while ripping her off for songwriting credit and—more importantly—money. So she left during the recording of Mirror to find her own way.

Over the ensuing years, Choc’let’s diverse vocal skills landed her gig after gig, as everyone seemed to want a little Choc’let in their sauce. She toured with Stephanie Mills, Chaka Khan, and B.B. King. She made music with Wayne Henderson of the Jazz Crusaders, recorded solo joints, and shared the stage with some of the biggest names in the fonk biz. She even took part in a GCS reunion in the mid 90s—till she figured out they were getting played on the money again. Today, Choc’let has honed her craft as a broadcaster, clothing designer, and author. And she still fonks whenever she can.

It is difficult to overstate the impact of the almighty Graham Central Station on fans, musicians, and the very genre of fonk itself. And the same can be said about Choc’let’s impact upon GCS, with her attention-commanding, booming yet golden voice, and her never-seen-before live performance of the F-U-N-K Box!

And Choc’let understands the importance and impact of that legacy full well. That’s why, even though there’s still no love lost between her and Graham, she wouldn’t say no to another GCS reunion in the future. “If Larry called me tomorrow, I would go back,” she says. “Because to me, at the end of the day, it’s about the fonk. It’s about the legacy of fonk and the truth of the matter is, there are not many of us left that came from that era that are out here still doing it.”

In this compelling, truth-telling interview, Choc’let talks about forming and creating classic tracks with Graham Central Station, how ego essentially broke up the original band, what it was like to hang out with Betty Davis, and why all true fonk fans should read Choc’let’s book, Deja View: Memoirs of a Funk Diva. She also recalls how she wound up singing on There’s a Riot Goin’ On, how a session with Dr. Dre led to a stint as lead singer for Rose Royce, and that time she saw Jimi Hendrix split his pants from behind at Isle of Wight.

Please join us for a celebration of the Life & Drums of WILLIE "WILD" SPARKS of Graham Central Station (1951-2020).

Cohosted by Patryce “Choc’Late” Banks (Graham Central Station)

Featuring:
Ray White (Frank Zappa / Wild Bunch)
Rustee Allen (Sly & the Family Stone)
Eddie “Cold Bird” Wright (road manager for GCS)
James McKinney (Graham Central Station / Wild Bunch)
Stozo the Clown (P-Funk)
Jay Stone (Funkanauts)

By the time O.G. Horny Horn RICK GARDNER (Bootsy’s Rubber Band, Parliament, et al) had reached his mid-20s, he was already a seasoned vet. After all, he had played with Kansas’ own Fabulous Flippers, a rockin’, blue-eyed soul outfit with a mean horn section famous for humbling Chicago at the Kansas City Rock Festival. Then, using his performance on the Flippers’ Something Tangible album as an audition, Rick had earned a top spot in Chase, blasting alongside his childhood idol, the legendary Bill Chase. So, when Rick found himself stuck in Los Angeles with badass drummer Melvin Webb after a gig had fallen through, he figured he already knew everything he needed to know about playing in a formidable band with top notch-brass.

Then came the call to Webb from the J.B. giant himself, trombonist/arranger extraordinaire Fred Wesley—after which Rick wound up at an audition of sorts in Fred’s living room in Hollywood. The young African Americans also present were mostly unknown to Rick, though he did notice that one of them was very skinny and very tall. Charts were put in front of Rick, seriously advanced stuff that would take a high-level set of jazz chops to sight-read. He put his trumpet to his lips and nailed it. Now everyone was laughing, especially the tall fella. But what the bleep was so funny?

That’s when Rick found out the lean dude was none other than Bootsy Collins, who along with Fred had never actually heard Rick play before, (though they definitely knew Chase). The laughter was from amazement and relief—this boy from Wichita was going to work out just fine. And that’s how Rick found himself rehearsing in Bootsy’s basement, then on the road to Detroit to work on a brand new project called Stretchin’ Out with BOOTSY’S RUBBER BAND.

Rick wasn’t in Kansas anymore. But what started out as supreme awkwardness and culture shock soon became beautiful vibrations of brotherhood. And as far as Rick was concerned, he was playing in the best band, period. The Rubber Band rhythm section were supermen, and he was hitting The One and trading solos with Wesley and another James Brown alum, the sax attacker known as Maceo Parker. But it wasn’t until about a year in—when yet another JB genius named Richard “KUSH” Griffith came onboard as 2nd trumpet—that the HORNY HORNS finally reached the peak of their superpowers. Now, not only were the HH the crème de la crème of funk brass, but Rick had also met his best bud for life. “Kush & Rick was definitely a thang,” Rick confirms.

Throughout the mid to late 70s, the Horny Horns put in double, triple, and sometimes even quadruple duty. “They bathed me in The Funk,” says Rick. His playing is all over such staples as Aah… The Name Is Bootsy, Baby! and Bootsy? Player of the Year, as well as some of the finest work that George Clinton and Parliament have ever done, including Motor Booty Affair, Funkentelechy vs. the Placebo Syndrome, and the almighty Clones of Dr. Funkenstein. Add to that albums by Brides, Parlet, Bernie Worrell, and even the Horny Horns themselves—all of which Rick, Kush, Maceo, and Fred had to support live, oftentimes in the same night! As Rick sums it up: “That’s quite a shower.”

After P-Funk, Kush & Rick bounced around for a while, notably touring with Marvin Gaye. But by the 90s, Rick saw that just being a gigging guy provided little stability. So he dug in and learned everything he could about laying down his own stuff. These days, Rick lives with his wife and biz partner Pat in Colorado, where he records and licenses original music, thus far amassing a catalog of 500+ compositions.

Rick is an absolute treat to interview, a clear-spoken man who can be rightfully braggadocious and lucidly humble in the same breath. In this ocean-deep, master class conversation, Rick opens up about the emotional highs and lows of his career, answers our technical questions about how The Funk was made, and relates touching personal stories about Glen Goins, Phelps “Catfish” Collins, and of course Kush—including Rick and his wife sharing Kush’s final days. Rick also raps about the arranging styles of Fred Wesley versus Bernie Worrell, Bootsy’s little-known musical gifts, why George would not tolerate a drummer messing with the beat, and that time Sade called Rick on the phone just to say “Hi.”

Each and every time he sets foot onstage or breathes into a mic, singer/songwriter/soul superhero STYMIE steals the show. Indeed, his beautiful, bountiful band of misfits, STYMIE & THE PIMP JONES LUV ORCHESTRA, has been assiduously stankifying stages since the mid-90s, when Stymie put together his first concoction of the collective in the Hayes Valley District of San Francisco. Nowadays, Stymie also records and performs regularly with Soul Ska, a strictly roots affair that’s been making a lotta noise on the live circuit, including frequent collaborations with Angelo Moore (Fishbone/Brand New Step).

The soft power of Stymie’s persuasion is derived from his compositional acumen. Specifically, this Hollywood native has a tendency to pen material that is as intricate as it is imaginative, complete with singalong choruses and cryptic song titles. He’s also a brilliant arranger, constantly creating bright horn lines, infectious rhythms, mighty riffs, and team sport vocal parts. And although the PJLO runs the gamut stylistically—equal parts ska, rock, pop, big band, and R&B— they most indubitably possess the wisdom and attitude to drop the Funk Bomb at a moment’s notice.

In this singular episode, Stymie talks about getting discovered while performing as a youngster on Venice Beach, then being brought to New York City as a salaried frontman—until the music of Sly Stone finally drew him to the Bay Area. Stymie also raps about how art and film inform his writing process, performing with Fred Wesley and Billy Preston, winning an international songwriting award but waiting too long to receive the prize, and how he got scouted by Jonathan Korty (Vinyl) to be part of Soul Ska.

This is a very special episode for Ace, who fell in love with Stymie & PJLO the first time he saw them perform, then followed them around so much he eventually became a member himself for a while. Stymie and Jay Stone also go way back, so the fellas take the time to reminisce, laugh, and catch up. Then things get kinda heavy when Ace makes amends with Stymie for the wild arguments they’ve had in the past. And, as if all that weren’t enough, at one point these three ol’ buddies decide to stop talking and play some music—live in the studio.

Credits:
Produced & Hosted by Ace Alan
Cohosted by Jay Stone
Website & Art by 3chards
Engineered by Nick “Waes” Carden at The Blue Room in Oakland, CA. He snapped in-studio pics, shot and edited video as well).
…but we couldn’t have done it without Mawnstr.

Intro track by the Funkanauts, “I Can Never Be” from the album Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth. Get it now on Amazon, iTunes, CD Baby—wherever music is sold.

Drummer’s-drummer ROBIN RUSSELL (NEW BIRTH/THE NITE-LITERS) sure takes it to the stage—under protest, that is. He’d much rather do his thing where the drum was invented: OUTSIDE. In fact, whenever he can, this Crenshaw native gets up at 3 am, loads up his gear, and heads over to LA’s Griffith Park, where he sets up under his oak tree and plays through sunrise—though a steady stream of gig offers prevents him from getting out there as much as he’d like.

Indeed, it would seem that Russell hasn’t stopped drumming since he got his first kit in high school, knee deep in the acid rock sounds of the ‘60s. After just a couple years, he had become such a prodigy that he was scouted to gig with no less than Johnny “Guitar” Watson—(Robin’s “musical godfather”)—then scooped up by Little Richard to play venues like Wembley Stadium.

Then came Russell’s indoctrination into the world of R&B, when drummer Mathew Watson saw him perform with his power trio Magic Mushroom and demanded to know who he was. Watson then recruited Russell on behalf of THE NITE-LITERS, the hit-making backing band for a coed cadre of singers called NEW BIRTH.

After gigging with this musically complex yet deeply soulful collective for just three months, Robin laid the tracks for what became two of the most amazing and influential funk albums of all time: The Nite-Liters’ A-Nal-Y-Sis and New Birth’s Birth Day. New Birth continued to release hit singles and albums throughout the 1970s, making Russell the drum hero he is today—influencer of musical multitudes, from Dr. Dre to Dennis Chambers.

In this insightful interview, Robin raps about the virtuosity of Johnny “Guitar” Watson, being devastated by the passing of Jimi Hendrix, the magic of working with New Birth bassist Leroy Taylor, and why you’d better not sleep when playing for Little Richard. Robin also talks about spirituality vs. egocentrism, the blessed nature of working with one’s idols, that time he saved his kit (and himself!) from a recent California wildfire, and how he and Blackbyrd McKnight (P-Funk/Herbie Hancock) recorded the most far out cassette tape you’ve never heard.

It’s hard to believe that JOE “PEP” HARRIS—the commanding soul man of the groundbreaking classic, “Smiling Faces Sometimes”—tends to be modest about his vocal skills. After all, this Detroit native and Motown vet was handpicked by genius hit-maker NORMAN WHITFIELD (Marvin Gaye, Temptations, Rose Royce, etc) to front the supergroup The UNDISPUTED TRUTH with two sweet soul sirens, Billie Calvin and Brenda “BJ” Evans, (formerly of The Delicates).

Wearing a love for contemporaries like Fifth Dimension and Sly Stone on their sleeves, The Undisputed Truth played sold out shows and went on to record some of the most adventurous, passionate, and indubitably FONKIFIED albums of the 70s—from Face To Face With The Truth, to Cosmic Truth, to Smokin’. These eclectic-yet -infectious LPs feature mammoth musicians like Wah Wah Watson, Eddie Hazel, and Herschel Happiness (Graham Central Station). Through it all, Joe has been the mainstay, sharing the mic with singers like Taka Boom (sister to Chaka Khan), Marcy Thomas, and Belita Woods.

In this edutaining interview, Mr. Harris honors us with tales of winning over crowds at the Apollo with his first group The Fabulous Peps, touring with The Jackson Five, collaborating with Whitfield, and producing music for film and television with George Clinton. Joe also raps about fronting an early incarnation of The Ohio Players, life as a cancer survivor, reuniting with B.J. Evans for the current incarnation of UT, and why he always felt like he was chasing Jackie Wilson.

JIM WRIGHT (now Jay Double You!) was just 12 years old when his big sister Debbie Wright’s bandmates—George Clinton, Bootsy, and the rest of Parliament-Funkadelic—started hanging out at his mother’s house in Detroit. In fact, Tiki Fulwood gave little Jim his first pair of drumsticks. And by the time he was in his late teens, he was already making a good living as a session player for legendary producer Don Davis at the local funk lab, United Sound.

But it was Parliament OG-vocalist Fuzzy Haskins who officially gave Wright his big break with the P. Fuzzy told the kid he had just two takes to make it in—Wright killed it in one, performing with no less than Glenn Goins, Garry Shider, and Boogie Mosson. By the late 70s, young Jim was not only the drummer for his sister Deb’s vocal trio PARLET, but also the original leader of the band. On top of all that, he played on tracks that became part of Bernie Worrell’s classic solo debut, All the Woo in the World.

But just as Clinton (or “G” as Jay Dub sometimes calls him) was about to propel the Wright siblings’ careers to the next level, tragedy befell the sister—causing a series of events that affected her brother deeply. So Jim returned to work with Davis, under whom he studied the art of songwriting and producing. Soon he had learned so much that he went independent, reinventing himself as Jay Double You! and putting out a string of his own funktastic albums.

In this awe-inspiring but laughter-filled interview, Jay Dub spits deep game about playing in the pocket, gives numerous fly-on-the-wall accounts of the creation of such funk staples as “Flashlight,” and shares personal anecdotes involving Eddie Hazel, Gary “Mudbone” Cooper, and many other big-time funkateers. But that’s not all. Dub also waxes poetic on the cold realties of the music biz, drum machines vs. the human soul, and the importance of positive messages.

Jay Armant, Jr never thought he’d become a member of Fishbone, much less co-lead vocalist of Year of the Dragon with Walter “Dirty Walt” Kibby. A self-described nerd, “Flyin’ Jay,” (as he would become known), figured he’d continue being a video game tester.

But as a school kid, he took music as an elective, where he got turned on to the trombone. He immediately fell in love. And as he got older, the ‘bone kept calling him—until he found himself playing in a band and teaching music himself. Then his mentor/boss Fernando Pullum hooked him up with the opportunity of a lifetime…

In this fun, info-packed interview, Jay chops it up about his indoctrination into the art of crowd-surfing, gigging with Al McKay of Earth Wind & Fire, crazy road stories, life after Fishbone, his project Electric Gremlin with Adam Fuller, and how much love and devotion his crew Year of the Dragon put into recording their new album, Take Control.