We Want The Funk!
George Clinton isn’t just the godfather of funk. He’s the CEO of the greatest funk culture I’ve ever seen on stage.
And last night in Boston, somewhere between the trumpet solos and the collection of all walks of society in the crowd, I realized something I’ve been watching for 30 years but only just now understood. It was a masterclass in leadership, hiding in plain sight. A company of funk. A brand that’s lasted half a century. A blueprint for anyone trying to build something that outlives them.
The Heart
Let’s start there. Because funk doesn’t work without heart. This is music that grabs your soul and forces it to dance, even if your knees are screaming and your lower back filed for divorce years ago.
George Clinton brings joy with a capital J. The kind of joy that’s been passed down from Parliament to Funkadelic to the hip-hop icons who have sampled his every riff. And last night, that joy was on full display. No auto-tune, no phoning it in. Just a cast of weird, wonderful musicians laying it all out there. It wasn’t just nostalgia, it was a revival.
I’ve been going to see P-Funk since I was in my early twenties. The first time was one of the first Lollapalooza’s, on the TF Green Airport tarmac, hallucinating on a little more than just the music. It was over 100 degrees, louder than God, and the sweat flowed like the biblical rivers. When that groove kicked in, I realized I wasn’t just at a concert, I was at a ceremony for the righteously funky.
For the 30+ years I’ve gone back to the P-Funk revival tent that’s never changed.
The Head
Now here’s where it got interesting. Last night I picked up on something different, my business spidey senses went off as I realized what the old leader of the band was throwing down. A lesson I myself have incorporated and codified into my leadership principles. George Clinton isn’t just keeping the band alive. He’s running a damn enterprise. And he’s doing it smarter than most Silicon Valley founders anointed as the new business savants.
Last night, almost every band member got their own solo spotlight. Three minutes here. Seven minutes there. Trumpet. Keys. Bass. Hell, the backup vocalist got her time too.
And if you were just there for the hits, maybe you were confused, a little disappointed. Maybe you were like, “Why is the organist playing his own jam for four minutes like we’re at a jam band open mic night?” Because George Clinton knows something a lot of founders forget. The best way to build an engaged company and your legacy is to let your people shine. He's not just recruiting talent. He's developing it. He’s saying, “Come join the Mothership, play these legendary tracks, but also show us who you are.” That’s how you create loyalty. That’s how you create the next generation.
And if they outgrow the brand? If they leave the nest and start something of their own? Good. That’s the point. That’s their dream, right? Clinton doesn’t hoard the power. He passes the mic, and says “Show these motherfuckers WHO YOU are. Every leader should stop and take notes.
The Soul
Then there’s the soul of the thing. The part that doesn’t fit neatly into a leadership book or a Harvard case study. George Clinton isn’t just funking around. He’s preaching. Through every groove, he’s slipping in messages about salvation, revolution, spiritual release. This is a church with a dirty ass bassline. It’s mischief and meaning, packed into one big sweaty funk baptism.
And his leadership and crafting of his people went beyond the stage. When the show ended, Clinton told us if we wanted more to head to Bill’s Bar for the afterparty. So I did, of course I did. Because I’m not one to turn down a little more P-Funk.
He wasn’t there, never showed up and never intended to. But members of his band were, his drummer, his bassist, his organist. They had their own side project playing until 2 a.m. And it was deliciously funky and electric. Clinton didn’t need to show up. His coaching tree did.
That’s when it all clicked for me. George Clinton isn’t just building a band. He’s building a legacy.
He’s doing the thing Bill Belichick never could. He’s creating people who can leave the system and still thrive. Bill Walsh did that. That’s why I say he’s the best football coach/leader of all time, not Bill Belichick. Belichick is the master tactician, the one who builds a gameplan better than them all. Yes, he built an incredible organization but none of his people could replicate it without him, it depended on him.
Walsh’s legacy is different, so much so that Walsh tree coaches were involved in 20 of the last 36 Super Bowls as either Head Coach, Offensive Coordinator, or Defensive Coordinator. That’s not only a great coaching tree, it’s a goddamn redwood in a sea of pines getting axed at Christmas time.
That’s what Clinton is doing. With rhythm. With chaos. With glitter and grind. He’s growing greatness in real time as you groove.
So yeah, my executive hat is off to the man. George Clinton, you’re still the truth. You laid the funk down. You laid the pathway for the next generation. You built something real and raw and resilient.
We still want the funk. And thanks to you, we’ve still got it, and probably always will.
Your legacy will live on as the Godfather of Funk…
Can I get an Amen from the sweaty congregation?
