The connective tissue that binds funk, soul, RnB and hip hop together is part of the reason the genres are so interesting to discuss. There’s an endless line from one place to another that makes a great many classic records related in some way. So while Mr. James Brown and George Clinton are two of the integral performers that early deejays heavily relied upon, there’re a few musicians that are on albums by both performers. It’s too difficult to figure who’s the most influential out of the sidemen. Bootsy Collins, though, who played bass for both Brown and Clinton, easily has the highest profile.

Bootsy’s colorful persona wasn’t necessarily a good fit with the disciplinarian that was Mr. James Brown. The elder’s strict code of rules and fines didn’t quite work for the bassist, but as the two parted ways, Bootsy soon found gainful employment with a his brother as well as part of the JB’s horn line. Along the way, playing with the Parliament-Funkadelic axis, it became clear that Bootsy – who no doubt was assisted in cultivating his persona as a result of working Clinton for a number of years – was as creative a force as any of the band leaders that he worked with.

Securing a recording contract with Warner Brothers, Bootsy took along a selection of Parliament-Funkadelic players, most notably, the horn section, which again included Maceo Parker and Fred Wesely. Almost as important, though, was the fact that on Bootsy’s second disc as a band leader, Ahh...The Name Is Bootsy, Baby!, George Clinton came in to produce the affair.

The album might not have needed any extra credentials seeing as Bootsy’s first disc, Stretchin' Out in Bootsy's Rubber Band, was well received commercially. But the addition of Clinton ostensibly made the album and stray Parliament disc all but in name. Even the cartoonish cover sports color schemes related to the outlandishly garish Cosmic Slop or some other mid ‘70s Clinton effort.

In tone, not just physical appearance, this disc from the Bootsy cohort comes off like a Clinton effort. That’s good, though. The slow jams even work as well as the fast funktastics. Both “What's A Telephone Bill” and “Munchies For Your Love” are simply sounds to make babies to. The prior even sports a chorus of “And if I can't get your love/then, what's a telephone bill?” that’s so memorable as to follow you around for days. Bootsy goes on to explain why he’d rather be in a lady’s company than on the phone (gettin’ obscene), but sometimes he’s got to make due.

Apart from the two short, interlude styled tracks, the four offerings here ratchet up the pace and come off as dance floor ready. The concept of pacing a disc and sequencing was obviously not lost on Clinton or Bootsy.

There’s not a downside to the disc at all. Well, finding a copy on vinyl is probably gonna be pricey, unless you luck out and find a healthy stock of discs at some local garage sale. I wouldn’t hold my breath, though.