Anyone who knows me knows that I love the funk! FUNK! Funk is real. Funk is reality.

Musically, funk is a descendant of the blues. The blues may say, “Nobody loves me but my mother, and she might be jivin’ too…” but Funk is the music risen from that adversity, thanking life for letting it be itself again…again as in remembering that it was once free…reclaiming its emancipation. Funk is the benefactor of the blues, standing atop the winner’s podium with clenched fist in defiance and inclusiveness. Funk is rhythmic celebration.

Funk is the sex before the conception, the amniotic fluid that nurtures, the mucus plug and the water breaking before the birth. Funk is the dirt before the vegetable, the labor pain before the birth. Funk is the Alpha and Omega because we start from the dirt and return to the dirt. Funk is the teacher and the lesson,,,,,before the blessin’.

Classical may be the Gerber baby. Funk is the reason that the baby is there in the first place.