My George Clinton & Parliament-Funkadelic Story
With George Clinton and Parliament-Funkadelic back on stage after what was supposed to be a retirement tour, I thought it was the perfect time to look back at my own small�but very memorable�connection to George and the wonderfully wild world of P-Funk.
And believe it or not, my story begins in Waterford, Ontario�population approximately 2,400, where the arrival of Parliament-Funkadelic was about as subtle as a spaceship landing in the middle of Main Street.
It All Started in High School
I grew up in Waterford and more or less began my career in the music business while attending Waterford District High School.
In the 1960s, most high schools held monthly dances featuring live bands. As Social Convener of the Students� Council, it was my job to book them.
Looking back, this was probably my first taste of being an entertainment agent. I just didn’t have an office, a secretary, or any idea I was actually starting a career.
By Grade 13, I decided to aim higher and ran for President of the Students� Council.
I lost.
Or at least, that’s what I was told.
Years later, one of my former teachers�who had helped count the ballots�confessed that I had actually won. Apparently, the Principal vetoed the result because he didn’t particularly like the idea of a long-haired, bell-bottom-wearing hippie kid becoming President.
Democracy was alive and well in Waterford.
Sort of.
So, by default, I became Vice President.
As it turned out, that may have been much more fun.
The Great Prom Rebellion
Throughout the year, the Students� Council organized numerous fundraising events, with most of the money going toward the annual Prom.
Being the analytical young troublemaker that I was, I decided to look at who was actually benefiting from all this fundraising.
The Prom was attended mainly by Grade 12 and 13 students, teachers and a few alumni. Many senior students also brought dates from outside the school.
Out of approximately 300 Prom attendees, only about 200 were Waterford District High School students.
Meanwhile, the school had roughly 1,000 students, many of whom couldn’t afford�or simply weren’t interested in attending�a semi-formal Prom.
Something about that didn’t make sense.
The entire student body helped raise the money, but only a relatively small group got to enjoy it.
So, as Vice President, I proposed what I considered a brilliant idea:
Forget spending all the money on the Prom.
Instead, let’s hire a fantastic band and throw a huge FREE end-of-year party and dance for the entire school.
No tuxedos.
No gowns.
No corsages.
Just great music and a party everyone could attend.
Naturally, the conservative small-town Prom committee thought this was a terrible idea.
The proposal was voted down.
I accepted their decision with all the maturity and dignity you would expect from a teenage long-haired hippie.
In other words…
I retaliated.
If You Can’t Beat the Prom… Out-Funk It
On the same night as the Prom, I rented the triple gymnasium at Brantford Collegiate Institute in nearby Brantford.
Then my concert-promoter partner, David Nancoff, and I hired a band.
Not just any band.
We hired George Clinton and Parliament-Funkadelic.
At the time, the group had recently released its first album, following the success of �(I Wanna) Testify,� recorded under the name The Parliaments.
Today, of course, George Clinton and Parliament-Funkadelic are legendary.
Back then?
Almost nobody in the overwhelmingly white communities of Waterford and Brantford had any idea who they were.
So David and I started spreading the word.
There was a 12-piece funk band from Detroit coming to town.
The lead singer wore a huge headdress.
One of the musicians performed wearing practically nothing but a diaper.
The costumes were outrageous.
The show was wild.
And this was definitely not the Prom.
Word travelled fast.
Suddenly, going to the Prom in a suit and tie didn’t seem quite as exciting.
The concert/dance sold out, and I would estimate at least half of my high school showed up.
It was packed.
It was loud.
It was crazy.
And it was GREAT!
Somewhere across town, I’m sure the Prom committee was enjoying its carefully arranged centrepieces.
We had George Clinton.
I was satisfied.
Welcome to the World of P-Funk
That night marked the beginning of my association with George Clinton and the band.
My mentor in the music business, Ron Scribner, later became the band’s manager. Parliament-Funkadelic recorded several albums in Toronto, and Ron invited me to attend many of the recording sessions.
For a young guy from Waterford who had started out booking bands for high school dances, suddenly finding myself around George Clinton and Parliament-Funkadelic was quite an education.
There was nothing ordinary about this band.
The music wasn’t ordinary.
The clothes certainly weren’t ordinary.
And George definitely wasn’t ordinary.
They were creating something completely their own�a mixture of funk, soul, rock, theatre, outrageous costumes and an attitude that essentially said there were no rules.
Naturally, I thought they were fantastic.
P-Funk Comes to Waterford
A couple of years later, I did something that, in retrospect, seems even more ridiculous.
I booked George Clinton and Parliament-Funkadelic to perform at Waterford District High School.
Yes.
The same small-town high school where the Principal apparently hadn’t wanted a long-haired hippie as Students� Council President was now hosting Parliament-Funkadelic.
I’d call that progress.
The WDHS gymnasium was packed.
The lights went down.
The curtain slowly opened.
The band began playing a deep, funky groove.
Standing across the back of the stage was the entire band, dressed in their wonderfully outrageous costumes.
Then, perfectly in time with the music, they slowly began moving toward the front of the stage.
You have to picture this from the perspective of a rural Ontario high school in that era.
This wasn’t another local cover band wearing matching shirts.
This was Parliament-Funkadelic.
The costumes.
The hair.
The attitude.
The groove.
The sheer spectacle of it all.
And for some students at our small rural school, it was also their first experience seeing Black performers in person.
As the band slowly moved toward the edge of the stage, a few overwhelmed students actually turned around and ran out of the gymnasium.
I couldn’t believe what I was watching.
Here was this incredible band laying down a monster funk groove, dramatically advancing toward the audience…
�and part of the audience was retreating.
It remains one of the funniest memories of my early days in the entertainment business.
Fortunately, most people stayed.
And those who did witnessed a night nobody at Waterford District High School was likely to forget.
Apparently, You Can�t Retire the Funk
Looking back, it’s remarkable to think that my connection with George Clinton began because a small-town Prom committee rejected my idea for a free dance.
Had they said yes, perhaps none of this would have happened.
Instead, their rejection helped inspire a sold-out Parliament-Funkadelic show, introduced me to George Clinton and eventually brought one of the wildest funk bands in the world to a high school gymnasium in Waterford, Ontario.
Not bad for a little teenage retaliation.
George Clinton later announced what was supposed to be a farewell tour and a well-earned retirement after more than six decades in the business.
Apparently, retirement didn’t stick.
Touring stopped during the pandemic, plans changed, and somewhere along the way George apparently decided that retirement wasn’t nearly as much fun as getting back onstage.
So he unretired.
And really, should any of us be surprised?
This is George Clinton we’re talking about. A man who spent his career proving that normal rules do not necessarily apply.
Today, George Clinton & Parliament-Funkadelic are back performing and still bringing THE FUNK to audiences decades after I first booked them into a gymnasium in Brantford.
I find that absolutely incredible.
So perhaps I was a little premature when I originally wrote:
�Enjoy your retirement, George.�
Let’s revise that.
Forget retirement, George.
Keep the Mothership flying.
Keep the audiences dancing.
And above all…
KEEP THE FUNK ALIVE!
� Elwood Saracuse
