Historical Perspective/Defunkt

In 1979, Joe Bowie and a few friends from new York's "La Mama" Theatre formed a jazz-funk outfit called Defunkt.  With lyrics by Janos Gat, a Hungarian playwright newly arrived from Budapest (with the girl from 'Stranger Than Paradise' on his arm) and slick r&b horn charts by brother Byron Bowie, Joe and his trombone cut a swath through the downtown New York 'no-wave' scene of the early '80s, encompassing punks, art-jazz nuts, funk-fans, oursiders, noise freaks and leftover beatniks.

Jazz fusion, prior to Defunkt's debut, was arguably the most recent significant evolution of jazz, was virtually drained of its energy and creativity and was devolving into show of musical wanking instead of true creativity.  Defunkt threw down a gauntlet that had yet to be thrown - a step beyond what Miles was doing with jazz-funk in the 70's and 80's.  Ornette Coleman and James Blood Ulmer were simultneously exploring similar frontiers, but Defunkt delivered a blueprint for jazz-funk evolution, tearing up the speedmetal at the same time they supplied the big, hard groove. 

Defunkt should have inspired a new era of jazz-funk, addressing not only urban blight and personal demons, but also the stylistic collisions of music occurring in the city it was inspired by and created in. Bold, furious, street-smart, brassy, clinically sharp and brutally honest, Defunkt turned jazz and funk inside out - and it might've been a considerably more interesting world if others had picked up on it.

Unfortunately, a new wave of pop musicians were about to bland funk out into a tepid and easily digestible non-revolution for the continental charts. These were faux-funksters who put on wide-shouldered suits and got marketing dollars and big budget videos from the major labels.  Defunkt found some success in Europe. Particularly memorable was an early gig in London at the Embassy Club where many of the pretenders came to learn at the feet of the masters and left slack-jawed and shell-shocked by what they had seen.  The NME called them "to funk as the Sex Pistols were to rock", which rarely should be true, except that every kid starting a rock band knows the Pistols, but only a handful of musicians can name-check Defunkt. 

The 12" single of "Strangling Me With Your Love" b/w "The Razor's Edge" was generally viewed as Defunkt's finest moment.  Featuring all three Bowie Brothers (including the great Lester on trumpet), the soulful backing vocals of Clarise Taylor and the deep-South funk drumming of Richie Harrison, these two tracks have long been deleted and much sough-after.  Guitar Giant Vernon Reid signed on for album two, Thermonuclear Sweat, which is presented here for the first time on CD in its full glory.  Unfairly maligned, Sweat has an additional edge, but is arguably not as hot as Defunkt.  Even so, it contains certifiable classics like "Avoid The Funk" and "For the Love of Money". 

Of course, New York was always down, but New York wan't America, and the heartland was virtually impenetrable in those days.  Maybe it was the venom in the lyrics that prevented a bigger breakthrough.  After the fact NME waid they were "as vitrilically vengence-fueled as any latterday rappers' dissing marathon", but the rap landscape of Defunkt's day was populated largely by happy party tunes until Flash dropped "The Message" in 1982 - after Defunkt had created their second album. clearly the world just wasn't ready.

Hip-Hop took over in the early 80's just as Prince declared "it's time for jazz to die".  The youngsters either missed or dismissed the taut jazz-funk of Bowie & Co in their rush to embrace the "everyone can do it revolution" of hip-hop.  This left Defunkt in a tough spot and they split.  Although they eventually reformed, these early recordings are still regarded as career highlights.