In the early 1980s, some of the British and American punk bands began adding a new dimension to their sound. The Clash, Gang Of Four, Howard Devoto, and Talking Heads all began to incorporate elements of funk into their music. In most cases it was a matter of using the propelling bass lines, and the staccato rhythms as extensions to the minimalist punk sound.

As usual Talking Heads were an exception. They bodily embraced the sound and expanded their line-up from the standard quartet to a nine-piece funk extravaganza. But no matter the format, once one got over the initial surprise of hearing Joe Strummer's voice singing "Magnificent Seven" or Howard Devoto's version of "I Want To Thank You (Falettin Me Be Mice Elf Agin)" - it seemed a natural progression.

If punk was the untamed offspring of bloated rock and roll, funk had always been the wilder brother to the R&B and soul that dominated mainstream radio. Occasionally, bands like Sly and The Family Stone or James Brown would have a crossover hit, but that was mainly on FM rock stations, not the top forty.

In the late 1960s, when black music was crossing over in the safely packaged sound of Motown with all the hard edges smoothed down for safe handling, funk was the sound of the unrest and disquiet that permeated the ghettos of America. Angry, celebratory, and not making concessions to anybody else, it was the musical equivalent of the clenched fist raised in triumph.

Listen to any of the funk that came out in the late sixties and early seventies and you can hear the pride of a people in the blasting of the horns and the strut of the bass. There is nothing fettered or choreographed about this stuff; it's the brassy sounds of life in the urban centres of America when hope still coexisted with the poverty and the violence, and drugs weren't considered the only growth business.

Unlike rap music's either unabashed paeans to consumerism and material gain, or expression of the unfocused anger of the hopeless, funk embodies the energy of potential. That the Black Panther movement's heyday coincided with funk's upsurge in popularity shouldn't be seen as a coincidence; they both represented a change in the attitudes of inner city black people in America.

Digging deep into the vaults of old recordings that have been floating around New York City since the late sixties Funky Delicacies, a division of Tuff City Records, has released Funky Funky New York a collection of rare and unissued recordings of New York City Funk from 1969-1976. This truly amazing collection of tunes has devoted half of it's tracks to the work of the Pazant brothers and their amazing band, Beaufort Express, for the simple expedient of the brother's being accessible for interviews and their recordings from that period having survived. Judging by the quality of their performances though, this whole disc could have been devoted to them, and nobody would have objected.