With the "Parliafunkadelicment thang," leader George Clinton has succeeded in creating two distinct identities for one band—the mystical voodoo of the Funkadelics and the stabbing, humorous funk of Parliament. While Funkadelic has no discernible influence, Parliament is more closely attuned to the post-Sly wave. But unlike the Ohio Players or Commodores, the group refuses to play it straight. Instead, Clinton spews his jive, conceived from some cosmic funk vision, under titles like "Super-groovalisticprosifunkstication," "P. Funk (Wants to Get Funked Up)" and "Mothership Connection (Star-Child)."
Mothership Connection is patterned closely after last year's tongue-in-cheek success, Chocolate City. With little regard for theme or lyric development, Clinton weaves a nonstop rap of nonsensical street jargon ("Somebody said, 'Is there funk after death'/I said is seven up") like a freaked out James Brown. And oddly enough, former Brown sidemen, Maceo Parker and Fred Wesley, make up Parliament's horn section, along with Joe Farrell and the Brecker Brothers. But this album refuses to be taken seriously, except as Clinton's parody of modern funk. After all, it was George Clinton who renamed James Brown the "Grandfather of Soul."