Originally published at: http://boingboing.net/2016/08/19/funklet-minimalist-drum-seque.html
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I kind of wish there was more variety, but then it does have funk right there in the name.
Finally, portable funk for us who funk out. Now all it needs is bass guitar, moog, rhythm guitar, another moog, lead guitar, lead singer, backup singers and some brass.
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pretty neat. interesting how he made it so you can click to drop the hits from either hand and foot in and out. the write-ups are great, too.
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Well, great. That’s today done, then.
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Well you can rock an 808 here
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Obviously I can rock an 808, but can I funk it?
Well, just follow these easy steps:
- Get up for the down stroke
- Lay down the boogie
- Dance til you feel better
In no time you’ll be getting more bounce to the ounce
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Cool. Would be nice if they used standard musical notation.
(Yes. Some drummers can read sheet music, damn it!)
mc frontalot - good old clyde. How is this not on youtube? Or anywhere? How do I even have this? I’d question whether this is a thing, except I can hear it on my phone.
Go find it, or just read the lyrics:
Good Old Clyde
MC Frontalot stole a beat today. (Help! Thief!)
You can take another look, or you can look the other way,
but to ignore this crime is a crime in itself.
I’m unarmed, but a shelf of J.B. LPs is a wealth
to any rapper worth a salt-lick.
Me: what you get once you dry out the Baltic.
[Who? What?] Didn’t you hear
'bout the beat that you already got all up in your ear?
[Who’s there?] My man, Clyde Stubblefield.
[What’s that?] The sound of the funky drummer.
MC Frontalot will take a well known beat and loop it.
Front like I wrote it, as if you were stupid.
You look at me crooked, but I’ll be hard to blame
when I claim that I ain’t even ever heard the same.
The same beat: the same drama.
[I recall] Chuck D getting irritated at Madonna.
While we’re already in trouble, we’ll
wring another single outta old Clyde Stubblefield.
Radio: suckas never seem to play me,
I think, because I used to be a man other than me.
[How could that be?] When the lyrics are furious
you hurry just to find the beat. I meet curious
MCs: “Yo, where’d you get the drum from?”
I pummel 'em on the advice of L.L.'s mum.
[Let me ride] Throw the beat in the trunk, let the rubber peel.
Stretch tracks on the grave of Clyde Stubblefield.
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