Robert Christgau: Dean of American Rock Critics

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Bootsy's Rubber Band

  • Stretchin' Out in Bootsy's Rubber Band [Warner Bros., 1976] B+
  • Ahh . . . The Name Is Bootsy, Baby! [Warner Bros., 1977] B+
  • Bootsy? Player of the Year [Warner Bros., 1978] B+
  • This Boot Is Made for Fonk-n. [Warner Bros., 1979] C+

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Consumer Guide Reviews:

Stretchin' Out in Bootsy's Rubber Band [Warner Bros., 1976]
This clone of Dr. Funkenstein isn't as stoopid as he pretends to be, but he does have identity problems. Why else would he announce that "he's just another point of view," or invite us to "vanish in our sleep"? Good songs, good textures, good riffs--all ultimately undefined. B+

Ahh . . . The Name Is Bootsy, Baby! [Warner Bros., 1977]
Although Bootsy's comic consciousness takes a certain toll in tightness and drive, this record does about ninety percent of what a good funk album does while offering priceless insight into obscene phone calls and canabis cunnilingus. Free your ass and your mind can come along for a giggle. B+

Bootsy? Player of the Year [Warner Bros., 1978]
When I pay attention, I note that the slow stuff oozes along sexy as come-from-the-state-they're-named-after (back when they knew how to ooze) and the fast stuff gets over the hump just like rhymes-with-Podunk (long may they wave). When I think about it, I like the joke, too. So how come I'm not fucking, dancing, or laughing? Well, I suspect it ahs more to do with not being eleven than with not being black, and more to do with my funnybone than my booty. Schoolkids are as rich a source of jokes as Johnny Carson, but that doesn't mean I get off on The Flintstones. B+

This Boot Is Made for Fonk-n. [Warner Bros., 1979]
Bootsy sounds like a kiddie-show host at the end of his tether--trotting out sound effects, Steve Martin imitations, desperate appeals to DJs, anything he can think of. Except a good riff. C+

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