Description
Funkadelic – Cosmic Slop – Vinyl Record
This 1973 album stands as a pivotal work in the group’s discography, showcasing their transition from the raw psychedelic rock-funk of earlier albums to the more groove-driven, polished P-Funk sound that would define the latter half of the 1970s. Released on Westbound Records and produced by George Clinton, Cosmic Slop blends social commentary, spiritual introspection, and cosmic absurdity into a tightly woven collection of songs that remains one of the most emotionally powerful and artistically fearless efforts Funkadelic ever created.
At its heart, Cosmic Slop is deeply rooted in the turmoil and complexity of early 1970s America — grappling with the aftermath of the Civil Rights Movement, the Vietnam War, systemic poverty, and the disillusionment of a generation. The album is often seen as an emotional and spiritual cousin to Maggot Brain (1971), yet where Maggot Brain mourned a world in flames, Cosmic Slop confronts it head-on — ugly truths, moral ambiguity, and all — and tries to find beauty, humor, or at least catharsis in the mess.
The title track, “Cosmic Slop,” is perhaps the most enduring song on the album — both musically and thematically. Told from the perspective of a son reflecting on his mother’s decision to become a sex worker in order to feed her children, the song turns what could have been a simple moral tale into something far more layered and emotionally harrowing. The chorus — “I can hear my mother call / Lord, I can hear my mother call…” — echoes like a spiritual lament, almost gospel-like in its repetition and pain. It’s a funk track, no doubt, with its rhythm guitar and hypnotic groove, but it bleeds soul and empathy. In just under six minutes, Funkadelic turns a story of survival and sacrifice into cosmic gospel, underscored by swirling, psychedelic guitar textures and an emotional punch that’s hard to forget.
Another standout, “March to the Witch’s Castle,” is more experimental, using spoken word over a brooding instrumental backdrop. George Clinton narrates the journey of a disillusioned soldier returning from Vietnam, weaving metaphors of witches and war to illustrate the trauma and alienation that plagued many African American veterans. It’s haunting, stark, and unlike anything else in the P-Funk universe — an indictment of war and a meditation on lost innocence. This track, like much of the album, doesn’t pull its punches. It’s cerebral and poetic, delivered with a sense of quiet fury and mournful resignation.
The album also includes “No Compute (Alias Spitfire),” a wild, off-kilter jam that shows off the band’s experimental edge, veering into abstract funk-rock territory with odd time signatures and surreal lyrics. Meanwhile, “You Can’t Miss What You Can’t Measure” takes an earlier Parliaments tune (Heart Trouble) and reimagines it as a heavy, emotional slow jam. It’s both nostalgic and fresh, linking the group’s doo-wop origins to their more progressive, genre-defying present.
Throughout Cosmic Slop, the musicianship is top-tier. Guitarists Eddie Hazel and Garry Shider deliver blistering solos and dreamy, fuzzed-out textures, anchoring the album in the gritty yet ethereal sound that defines Funkadelic’s best work. The rhythm section is equally locked in — while Bootsy Collins wasn’t a main player on this record, the bass and drum grooves remain tight, deep, and infectious. Clinton’s production pulls all of these elements together with a sense of organized chaos, balancing dense, layered arrangements with raw emotional storytelling.
Visually, the album is equally striking. The cover art by Pedro Bell features his signature Afrofuturist comic-book style, a vibrant and surreal counterpoint to the album’s darker themes. Bell’s work helped define the visual mythology of P-Funk, creating an otherworldly universe that complemented the sonic world Funkadelic was building.
Though Cosmic Slop didn’t chart high or sell big upon its release, its influence has only grown over time. It’s now seen as a cornerstone of the P-Funk legacy — a daring, politically engaged, and musically innovative album that pushed the boundaries of what funk could be. It’s an album that makes you dance, think, and feel — sometimes all at once.
In the grand cosmic soup that is Parliament-Funkadelic, Cosmic Slop is the dark, soulful swirl at the center — gritty, painful, beautiful, and undeniably funky. It’s not just one of Funkadelic’s best records; it’s one of the most powerful artistic statements of the 1970s.
Brand new, never played and still in factory plastic
Track Listing
Nappy Dugout
You Can’t Miss What You Can’t Measure
March To The Witches Castle
Let’s Make It Last
Cosmic Slop
No Compute
This Broken Heart
Trash A Go Go
Can’t Stand The Strain
