Blowfly
The Weird World of Blowfly
(Weird World Records)
www.blowfly.com
There's not much we could say about the great Clarence Reid (A SOUTH FLORIDA FUCKING TREASURE) that hasn't been said already by me or my peers. But taking a page out of his alter-ego's playbook, I vow to spread my prick and unchecked-by-the-New-Times-sheriffs tongue in the coming year. Yeah. Maybe I got something on Curtis Mayfield, and maybe what I got is coming a little something like this!
Oh scratch that. I don't have the man's sense of humor and I most certainly don't see myself standing in front of an adept funk band digging my shit.
This is the slab of wax that unleashed a whole slew of drippy, nasty funk on your mamas and papas; the kind of shit that'll make Richard Pryor and Redd Foxx blush. Yowza!
I can't hold it together. Nothing's sacred here. You can shit on the dock of the bay here. As far as we know, in this year of our Lord 1973 we were all whole men, Mr. James Brown was still alive, and we'd oh-ho-hummed, screwed your mother, and fucked your brother! Can we make this shit up?
Hardly. These are some outrageous, fringe-on-the-fringe party tracks you reserve for the late-night dinner guests who have a sense of humor, the kind of people you can call friends. You don't even have to wear a weird costume, or be better than a blowfly. These are the kinds of tracks you can bond over. I rue the kids who had to sit through half-assed party discs in the '90s; this was the real deal. All they ever had to do was check behind the booze. Mommy and daddy have secrets. Ask. Go ahead and ask.
Recorded sometime between 1970 and 1971 somewhere in awesome and progressive Miami, this album was made live by the beautiful funk of Chocolate Perry, Robbie Ferguson (drums), Little Beaver, Jerome Smith (guitar), Ron Barkner (bass), Cuban Joe, the great Bennie Lattimore, and Mike Lewis on keys.
While a vinyl copy might come beat-up for all it's worth, House of Funk's put out a CD version with three extra tracks that might sway your innards. It don't matter. You live in South Florida and you like the real shit? Get yourself a copy of this or heebie-jeebie, country ho, skeevie-skeeve, you'll never get a blow! It's a weird world full of weird people.
