INSPIRATIONS : P-Funk Broke All Barriers

In this first installment in an occasional series in which pop artists pay tribute to their influences, acclaimed rap producer Dr. Dre--real name Andre Young--salutes Parliament-Funkadelic mastermind George Clinton, who plays the House of Blues on May 28.

Dr. Dre

I ‘ll never forget the first time I saw Parliament-Funkadelic perform. It was at the Los Angeles Coliseum in 1980 at this giant, 12-hour concert called the “Funk Festival” with Rick James and Bootsy and the Bar-Kays. I was in junior high school, and I went with a bunch of my friends.

They had this huge spaceship that came out of the sky and flew out over the audience. When it landed on the stage, George Clinton stepped out and the band just cranked it up. I couldn’t even believe my eyes. It was so wild.

Before I heard them, I was planning to be a mechanical draftsman. But P-Funk’s music opened my mind up to the idea that there are no barriers except the ones you believe in. They were rebels who broke all the rules. Their sound was real eerie and radical as hell. It had so much flavor.

I own every P-Funk record ever made, and I still listen to them all the time and learn from them. I’ve got them in the car, and I’ve got them in the house. Plus I’ve got video footage of the group’s performances that I love to watch.

One day, I finally got to meet George Clinton, and we just clicked right off. I mean it was instantaneous. He just walked into the studio and started chillin’ with us as if we had known him for 10 years. He just sat down and got in the mix. Didn’t say a word. We just made some music. It was real cool.

But it wasn’t just the music that got to me. It was their whole attitude. I mean, those guys were so far ahead of their time it’s ridiculous. The clothes, the image, those crazy album concepts. They didn’t care what anybody thought of them. And that impressed me.

As far as the music goes, they took funk to a brand-new level. I mean, there just isn’t anybody on the entire planet like George Clinton. He is way out there. And let’s not forget about Bootsy Collins. You couldn’t stop those bass lines of his. Then you add Bernie Worrell’s keyboard solos and all those odd chords to the Brides of Funkenstein’s opera-sounding vocals. Man, what a fly combination.

That was the beauty of P-Funk. It wasn’t just one person’s take on something. It was a collaboration by the whole P-Funk family that made those records happen.

And that’s a system I’ve repeated at my own company, Death Row. We’re just like one big family. Everybody throws a little ingredient into the pot, and the next thing you know you got some bomb-ass soup. If you’ve got musicians who understand each other, all you need to make a hit is a producer at the controls with a creative mind who’s not afraid to take chances--and that’s me.