An updated tour list is available at pfunkarchive.com
-P-Funk Tour List-
Maceo Parker
Review 07/07/99 From: Mike Evans
Ani DiFranco and Maceo Parker at Deer Valley Resort, Park City, Utah July 7,1999 This show was WET. Midsummer in the high desert isn’t supposed to be this wet. The damp mist roiled over the ridge, into the amphitheater, or ski hill, where the stage sat like a moored sailing ship - all fabric and line, lights and equipment. The hill wasn’t so steep as to lose your footing, but you could see most of the time from the audience, even around tall people. In the long, gray twilight, a group of handsome well-dressed African-American guys were jamming hard under the colored spotlights. Four men were singing, and four men were playing. Two of the singers played trombone and saxophone too. Front and center , with his alto sax, was Maceo Parker, leading it all. "Oooh yeah!" he’d say, "Oooh yeah!" roared the crowd in response. Quite a few of them had come up to the mountains to see Maceo, and they were enjoying every beat of the jam. He featured more "songs" than his legendary loosely-knit gig at the Zephyr Club, but they were lots of chants and choruses, plus solos from the Hammond organ, electric guitar, Maceo’s sax, and Greg Boyer’s trombone. Details be damned, Maceo delivered FUNKY music, and the power of its rhythms lifted everyone in that venue outside of their world, into the stratosphere of ecstatic movement. During this warm-up act, the majority of the audience might have been from another planet, because of the many on-paper differences between their suburban, white, coincidentally Mormon background, and the cultural roots of Maceo’s music. Do you know what I felt and saw? I saw eagerness and joy on everyone’s face as they danced in the rain from just being in the presence of this Funk. Whoever decided to book Maceo for this tour had touched something magical. Yeah, there were a buncha guys out there who stayed bundled up with their arms folded, but I was checkin’ them checkin’ everybody out, and they were loosening up, from the inside, all during the show. Eventually some of them would even hoist a short lady or two onto their shoulders for a better look. Back to ecstatic movement - Maceo’s band acted as a rocket booster. The crowd was already "up there" when the star of the show came out to play. Ani DiFranco stroked an acoustic guitar, Julie Wolf played a variety of keyboards, and there were two men on bass and drums. DiFranco’s Funk went into orbit on the first tune. The rhythms were awe-inspiring, and Ms. Wolf is a true wizard on those keys. Any West-Coast Funkers who have a chance to see this tour -- getcher booties over there while you can! Have you ever been at one of those water parks with surf-generators? DiFranco’s band was flooding that mountain with Funk just like that! The concert got wetter. It’s no secret that a lot of Ani DiFranco’s fans are women. Most of that audience were women. DiFranco’s lyrics have a lot to do with making love too, and there’s a lot to say about that subject! The crowd had her lyrics in their hearts. As they gyrated and shook their bodies in their dancing, many would sing back the songs they knew so well. Some of that wet was tears in people’s eyes, more of that wet was sweat. The dancers all shed their jackets like dancers do, and their wet clothes were barely staying on the lucky ones. The ground never got muddy, and the mist stayed warm, so there was lotsa barefootin’ too. I sure hope they found their shoes afterward. It was good, wet fun alright, but there were many levels to it too. Ani DiFranco touched on so much. I was completely impressed at the depths to which this artist delved. She gave an awful lot, and I hope she continues to get it back from fans like these. Late in the show, after the rain finally ceased, DiFranco did a couple of songs with Greg Boyer and his warm, elegant horn. Cory Parker, Maceo’s son, shared the stage with Ani too. They were rapping about our world at that time, which isn’t always pretty, but it was pretty damn good that they said the things that they did. Maceo played along on the last song. It was a slow tune, and Mr. Parker played his alto high and tasty, almost like a clarinet. Maceo had told me about two hours previously that he never knew what the last thing would be, night to night, but he sure was ready! No one moved until they knew the music was over -- then it was back to the cars. After the show was over, while the roads leaving the canyon were blocked with idling vehicles, a small cluster of concert-goers, including me, shared the contents of our coolers in the parking lot. They were all young Mormon women, but DiFranco's music had spoken to them eloquently. I mean everybody deals with love in their life! The night was still beautiful and warm, and we just enjoyed being where we were -- talking about what we’d experienced. They spoke in a flurry of DiFranco lyrics, and each one said something about how "Ani" had articulated something in their existence. In the background, we had one of my drive tapes on the stereo -- with Red Hot Mama, Standing On The Verge, Night of the Thumpasaurus People, The Goose etc. The young tailgaters all LOVED those tunes. They were aware of George Clinton -- they needed some reminding about Maceo’s career, but that's OK, they all said "Oooh Yeah" correctly -- one of them made the point that "the good stuff stays around." Another one of them had seen the P-Funk All Stars in Salt Lake in 1996 -- she remembered "the handsome trombone player," and was delighted to know that he was the same guy who played with DiFranco earlier that night. As the canyon winds started up, the traffic jam ended, and we went our separate ways, but I was witness to The Funk being present in the hearts, minds (and loins) of a new generation.