Dâm Funk? Damn Right

Dâm, That Was Funky!
Time traveling from the lo-fi/sci-fi futuristic N80s to once upon a time called right now, Dâm Funk makes people move

Dâm Funk deejays funk and plays funk and records funk and collects funk and named himself Dâm Funk because after so many years, he had to acknowledge that he has practically become a being of pure funk. TheNew York Times called him a “passionate advocate of N80s funk,” and even that doesnNt go far enough. He has abandoned age (“I say INm timeless! I donNt even remember my age”) and birth name (although if youNre the kind of person who prefers Clark Kent to Superman, the information is out there) and possibly even solid food. He feeds on funk now: “You can live off music. If you got the right sounds on your CD or iPod, you can go the rest of the day and survive!”

HeNs known informally now as the “ambassador of funk,” a title he accepts with humility. “ItNs an honor to be known as the ambassador of anything,” he says. And heNs known internationally for a series of unexpected remixes. Baron ZenNs “Burn Rubber” was his breakout, and Animal CollectiveNs “Summertime Clothes” splashed him into a whole new audience this spring. ThatNs what got TheNew York TimesN attention.

But funk has been his life as far back as heNll tell the story—back to little Dâm Funk growing up in Pasadena. He was left alone a lot then, he says. HeNd play his drums and listen to the neighbors playing slick funk hits by Slave and Pleasure (both of whom he still loves) and watch strange, strange things on pre-cable TV. HeNd soak up outrN horror films such as Phantasm and rubber monsteramas with Godzilla and cheapo loud-noise/bright-color cartoons such as Scooby-Doo, which is still his hands-down favorite, he says. Later heNd session on keyboards for many of the best in West Coast gangsta rap. “Real gangstas donNt have to lift a finger,” he says. “ThatNs the background I come from.” But the pure and true expression of Dâm Funk was then—and remains now—that lo-fi/sci-fi sound of the futuristic N80s.

This isnNt the stripped-down funk of James Brown, machined to meet the GodfatherNs legendarily precise specifications. Instead, this is “modern funk,” the triple overlap of disco, Kraftwerk and Parliament that spent years neglected by collectors: garish glowing synthesizer melodies and an absolutely pugilistic rhythm designed specifically to aid smooth movement on the dance floor or the street or in perhaps even-more-romantic places? (Nothing so perfectly soundtracks a slow pan from two lovers entwined as modern funk.) ItNs slick and suave and otherworldly. And the shock of the kitscH N Mdash;for this is music almost hermetically, affectionately sealed into its time and place, like N77 punk or N67 California country—dissipates instantly before Dâm FunkNs confidence and commitment. ItNs escapism, he explains. “I donNt want to say, ‘Keep it real.N I wanna say, ‘Keep it fantasy.N Too much is real,” he says. “You know what INm saying?”

HeNs a Gemini, he says, “not to be so hung up on astrology.” His two sides are Dâm Funk the DJ—the resident selector at his weekly Culver City club Funkmosphere, at which he shares all his favorite songs—and Dâm Funk the original musician, who started puzzling together his own Prince-inspired boogie as a kid and who (after a setback when his laptop full of masterworks was boosted from his car after a party in LA) will finally be releasing a staggering five-LP box set called Toeachizown in October on LANs Stones Throw. The cover—featuring Dâm Funk in the sunglasses that time forgot—looks like The Terminator meets Mantronix. HeNll also be releasing a selection of teenage Dâm Funk tracks with Stones Throw, as well as further personal oddities on his own label. ItNs more funk than any normal man could stand, but—as an ambassador—heNs got to make sure heNs made enough for everybody.

“[My music] is for riding around or just listening in your home or dancing,” he says. “ThatNs a taboo word sometimes, but I like the music I play to make people move. I want it for people who arenNt going to just network the whole night—but then again, it is for the guy at the bar who came solo and just has a drink and nods his head. I do music for blue-collar people and people who are in the know. Not just beat fanatics. I like seeing people in regular tennis shoes and people in the latest styles—I try to bring everybody together!”

Dâm Funk with special guests at the Continental Room, 115 W. Santa Fe Ave., Fullerton; myspace.com/thecontinentalroom. Tues., 9 p.m. Check website for cover. 21+.