Uncle Bootsy Is Always Around And Evolving

Bootsy Collins isn’t just a musician. He’s cosmic energy that leaves bits of cool funk everywhere he goes. A legendary bassist and funk pioneer, his resume is storied from James Brown, Parliament Funkadelic and P-Funk to his collaborative work with artists such as Deee-Lite (“Groove Is in the Heart”), and a generational list of artists who’ve sampled him from Beyoncé, Childish Gambino, Dr. Dre, and De La Soul, just to name a few. At 73, the number one Funkateer is still pushing the boundaries of what it means to create. “I’m looking forward to blasting the people with some of this magical spiritual healing music,” he tells me, his voice as vibrant as ever. His laughter laced with wisdom and a smooth signature rasp. However, a youthful energy beams from Collins, who is as witty as ever. 

During our hour-long Zoom call, I’m struck by how his presence has always blurred the line between past and present, especially as he tells me that Keke Palmer and SZA’s new film, One Of Them Days, has “the funk.” “I’m always on the street corner, always,” he says. Roughly 15 minutes into our conversation, he asks a question that echoes the essence of his creative blueprint: “Did you know funk is making something outta nothing?” It’s more than just a genre to him, it’s a philosophy and way of life. In Bootsy’s world, funk is staying true yet always evolving. Not for ourselves but for those after us.

For Bootsy, he’s found the balance between acknowledging our cultural identity while adapting to the world around us. He reflects on the era that shaped him, remembering the impact of Martin Luther King, Malcolm X, and the [Black] Panthers. “We started learning about our identity,” he recalls. Bootsy knows the value of making something out of nothing because he’s lived it and he’s done it. “We start out with nothing, and we end up with nothing,” he tells me. Caught between riots and the era of Black Power, Bootsy learned that “funk” was a survival mechanism, and it became his superpower. But for the legendary Funkateer, there is still room to learn. 

We spoke to Bootsy Collins to discuss his newest album, Album of the Year: #1 Funkateer, the complexities of genre-labeling for Black artists, meeting Fela Kuti, and how an innovator keeps evolving. 

AFROPUNK: When you started working on Album of The Year: #1 Funkateer, did you go into the studio with a specific energy in mind, or do you let the vibe curate itself as you create?

Bootsy Collins: The only way to get it out is to be around it and to be in it. I like to be around the younger generation, which I learn a lot from every time we hook up. Every time I’m around them, they may learn some of the older tricks, but I learn from their vibe, the energy they give off, and their aspirations. They don’t even know they’re inspiring me as well. And so I have to let ’em know who they are, and that’s what it’s really all about. Just inspiring these young heads to believe in themselves and to go out there and do their thing, because a lot of people are hurting, and I have to let them know that they are somebody.

And if I don’t leave nothing else, I have to leave that with ’em.

AP: You’ve been an icon in music for decades. What keeps you creatively motivated when you’re already considered an innovator?

BC:  I don’t even work at trying to figure out what it’s all about. I just go with the flow. The universe gives me certain angles and certain things to talk about, and a lot of times, I never know how I’m gonna approach anything. I wait on that voice from the heart, and just be guided by it. And I ask for that every day, ask for that guidance. Because if you don’t get that guidance, then that means you know everything. And I know nothing.

If you look at the computer, if you look at the Apple computer, it’s got a bite in that apple. There’s a bite in that apple. They’re giving you all of the information, and it’s right before everybody’s eyes. And they don’t even realize, we all invented the apple.

Because we’ve all been bad. We’ve all had our way and tried to do certain things, and then cap on somebody else. But we’re all guilty. So I try to give something back. It doesn’t pay for nothing, but it makes you feel better. Like giving back makes me feel better. And so I try to pass that on to the younger generation. But a lot of ’em out here are getting used up. So I say “you can use me, but don’t misuse me.” And there’s a big difference.

So I try to break the stuff down when people ask, because they’re not given that kind of information. But the information they are given is all over the apple. And we’ve all taken a bite. But it’s interesting for me because if I worked with James Brown and Parliament, yeah, I would feel like… not that I would know everything, but I would feel like, “Hey, I’ve seen this before. I’ve done this before.” So the fact that I’m still coming into this like “Nah, I’m still learning.”

AP: Hearing you mention James and Parliament, I feel like the industry is still the industry, but the really good stories you’re looking for happened decades ago…

BC: Like I said before, today, you can’t even get lost.

And that was the big fun when I was coming up in getting lost. You’d be out with your girl, and she’s trying to figure out what’s going on. Although she already knows, and you know you’re not gonna get home on time because you’re lost, and we had fun. We made fun outta that.

But today? You can’t get lost. GPS is everywhere. AI, all them boys. 

AP: I’m really glad you brought that up. You’ve witnessed the evolution of music from vinyl records to streaming. What are your thoughts on AI?

BC: Oh man, I feel so strongly about it. I did a song about it on the new album, it’s called “I Am AI.” The big truth about that whole thing is…No matter what we do, nothing’s gonna stop it. It’s already been called forth, and it’s coming. Not only is it coming, it’s already here. 

And no matter what we do, even the laws ain’t gonna change what this mess is getting ready to do to generations and generations of future kids. But they’re not gonna think about it like we do because we got caught in the gap, in the beginning stages of AI. And if we think it’s horrible now? This is nothing. This is really nothing. It’s gonna get so deep, we won’t even know what’s real.

We’ve already been dealing with reality versus unreality, what’s fake and what’s real…we know that on a surface level. But we’re really getting ready to see what it is with this AI thing. And that? I don’t even know how to approach it… other than to embrace it. Because I know it’s coming and nothing’s gonna stop it.

AP: Feels very Will Smith, iRobot of the world. 

BC: Yeah, exactly. And see, the movies always let you know what’s coming, but people just get entertained by it. But really, it’s telling you what’s getting ready to happen. So I totally embrace it. It’s not my will, but thy will be done because it’s already been called forth. And no matter what we do, it’s coming. But now, we’re at a point where it feels like we’re losing that. And you can’t have one without the other, it seems. So I try to embrace both.

AP: As one of the forefathers of funk, you’ve continued to innovate by creating new subgenres on this album like Barbie T & Me, which leans more rock, and Bubble Pop, which is more hip-hop. There’s been a lot of conversation lately about genres and how Black artists define their music or whether they even need to. Do you think genres are necessary or are they limiting?

BC: We should be able to do any creative thing we want, as long as it’s not hurting anybody. We should be able to be as creative as our hearts and minds can take us. And we’ve been going through it forever. All my life, even before I got here. Just trying to get to that place where we’re actually free. Where we can do what the hell we want to do, and be who we want to be. But we’ve all been stuck in that box. And it’s hard to break out of that box and really know who you are. That’s still a problem we have to deal with.

Because we have to try four, five times harder than anyone else just to even be recognized. Music should be like clothes: I can wear anything I want. Beyoncé should be able to sing anything she wants, without being criticized for crossing into someone else’s category. That category doesn’t belong to anybody. It belongs to everybody, just like the planet. The planet doesn’t just belong to you or me. It’s everybody’s.

The real question is: what are you gonna do with it?

Beyoncé did what she wanted to do with it. And it’s sad she got so much grief for that. But I think we’re getting stronger. Things are starting to tip in our direction because we’re standing on the backs of those who came before us, and we’re keeping it moving. Because if we don’t do that? We’re dead in the water.

AP: You’ve mentioned wanting to expand your music beyond the traditional idea of funk. How would you describe the sonic direction you’re taking on this album?

BC: Actually, I just look at it like it either widens my scope or widens the audience. Or sometimes, it subdues the audience. And that’s not my goal. My goal is to put out what I’m feeling, how I’m feeling, and what I like. And your goal should be the same: do it the way you want to do it. I think that’s what the younger folks dig about me. It’s not just the music. It’s that this fool will go out and do anything. And I like that. I like being able to wear what I want to wear, not just what’s trending. I can do what I want to do. And we need to learn more about that; more than just biting the apple.

Funk was a bad word when we were trying to break through. But it was the people who demanded to hear us on the radio. It wasn’t the industry. It was the people, because we had such a dynamic show. And once folks actually got a chance to see us, that’s what made the difference. That’s what made people say, “Hey, you gotta check these mugs out, they’re tearing the roof off this mother!” That’s what sold people on us. It was the performances, the gigs, the record stores, the signings, the interviews…all of it.

And this was with no internet. Just us, out there, talking about ourselves, who we are, and what the funk is. Because back then, they wouldn’t even let us on the radio to talk about funk. You had to talk about something else. And when George and I realized what they were trying to do, it was like: “Oh, funk them.” [So] this album, for me, breaks through everything they say can’t be done. But the “we” is always there. We’re always crossing boundaries, changing names, changing clothes…all of it. I’m honestly amazed by it myself because now I get to sit back and watch the funk grow.

And it keeps growing. No matter how hard they come at us, the funk keeps rising. But I make it a point to pass that on. 

AP: So why the name… Album of the Year, #1 Funkateer?

BC: I always knew in my heart that nobody was gonna give you anything. So when you mentioned Player of the Year, I had to name myself that because nobody else was gonna crown me. We weren’t getting that kind of play. Everybody else out there was getting shine, but us? We weren’t getting any of it.

So I started saying it myself. I’m the Player of the Year. And once I claimed it, that’s when people started to catch on, “Oh, this man is the Player of the Year.” And I said, “Okay, now you’re seeing it.” Same thing with this new record. I started it two years ago, and early on, I knew, this album feels like Album of the Year. Because look, nobody’s putting funk at the forefront. So if we don’t bring it? It won’t get brought. If we don’t claim it? It won’t be ours.

And if they take funk? It’s over. That’s all we’ve got. And that “all” is really nothing. It’s always been about making something out of nothing. That’s what we do. That’s how we live. And that’s what funk is. The music, yeah, but also the mindset. The spirit. It’s everything and it’s nothing. Because we made it that way. We built it.

And a lot of people live like that without even realizing it. That’s why I had to say it out loud. This is the Album of the Year. I’m the number one Funkateer. And you better put me all up in your ear. Because if I don’t say it, it won’t be said. 

AP: Track two, “The JB’s Tribute Pastor P,” reflects on your time with James Brown, Fred Wesley, and others during your early years under James Brown and his band. Honoring those musical ancestors seems to be important on this album.

BC: Yeah, that’s really important. For me, it’s crucial because when I was coming up, it always felt like nobody really cared. I had to come to terms with that. It wasn’t so much that nobody cared, [but], it was that I needed to give them something to care about. My whole mindset was: I gotta take care of my mother. I watched her every day, breaking her back, scrubbing floors. Sometimes she’d take us to work. Not just so we could see it, but because we didn’t have a babysitter. We had to go with Mama.

I didn’t have a dad at home, so there wasn’t anyone to look up to or follow. My brother didn’t want me to be like him, but I wanted to. He played guitar, and he was eight years older than me. He hung out with chicks, got loaded, and I was fascinated by all of it. But the number one thing on my list was to get my mom a house and get her out of the neighborhood where people were getting killed and doing drugs. One day, she even told me, “You’re gonna be something. You really are.”

That stuck with me. It made me keep pushing forward, learning, growing, and sharing with people. Our whole thing was about partying, and honestly, if I hadn’t embraced that, I probably would’ve turned out a disaster. We hung out at house parties before I even knew how to play the guitar or bass. And then, I got a chance to see the world. Playing with JB changed everything. In 1970, I got to go to Africa, meet Fela, back then it was Fela and the Nigerian 70. He invited us to his club, and it looked like a giant spaceship with no roof. You could just look up and see the stars. I’ll never forget that.

When we got off the plane, people bowed down like we were kings. We’d just come off the street, just joined James Brown’s band, and they treated us like royalty. We knew we were nobody, but that experience stuck with me. Everything I’ve gone through, everything I’ve learned, it’s all tied to this album. It’s influenced by those who came before me…James Brown, George…I learned so much from them. I can’t take all the credit, because it’s not mine to claim.

AP: Which tracks on the album stand out to you the most on this album?

BC: The one you called out definitely stands out, because that’s where my journey really started — JB’s tribute, Pastor P. Yeah, that one’s important because it’s what my whole foundation was built on.

I think Bootdullivan is also very important because a lot of us brothers still want to be Superfly, that’s what we relate to. I got a chance to really work with the Dogg Pound on this album. I’d worked with Snoop before, but never really got to work with the whole crew except on tour. We worked together but separately on records. This album was the first time I got to connect with them, and we struck up a whole new relationship. That means a lot.

I also got a chance to put my son on this record. He helped me co-produce, which was special.

Then there’s Dave Stewart from the Eurythmics; he put that whole thing together with Annie Lennox on Sweet Dreams. Anytime I ask him to do something, he’s there. It’s great to have that kind of support. Plus, I’m meeting new kids and getting a chance to work with them. Satellite is one of my favorites because it’s so groovy. It’s a different approach from what fans usually expect from Bootsy. I’m trying to widen my musical scope and expand what people expect from me.

AP: How do you keep evolving when you’ve already created a blueprint that artists like Anderson .Paak, Bruno Mars, and Kali Uchis continue to reference?

BC: I could always keep doing the same old thing, but I’m trying to break that spell and reach a wider audience. One that realizes they can do more than just funk. Because when they look at me, it’s not just me. It’s really we…I’m all of that. I’m all of them. That’s how I see it.

I can’t cross that line in the usual way, I have to do it in slow motion. I don’t want to shock people, but I do want to keep moving forward. I’m not living to do the same old thing over and over. I love meeting new people. I love doing something new and experiencing something different. I don’t take drugs now, I used to, but I’ve changed. Everybody’s changing. It just drains you when you keep doing the same old thing all the time, just because that’s what people expect from you.

I still have some of that old vibe, but I also have something new. You might not like it, but somebody else might. If I never cross that bridge, I’ll never get to the other side. It’s about crossing the bridge and walking the plank…because that’s what we do in funk.

Interview has been condensed for clarity.