Had Grand Funk listened more to the Standells and less to Cream, they might have turned out to be a really great group. The background was certainly there: the bizarro ethos of Terry Knight & the Pack, who along with Question Mark/Bob Seger and the Last Heard/the Rationals composed the Cameo-Parkway crew of regional Michigan rock.
Not enough of it soaked in, though. Grand Funk have at times been responsible for the same sort of endless jerk-off guitar solos that were so despicable in Cream, and that sort of offense is hard to ignore. After all, the genre of heavy rock underwent several excruciating years of some of the most horrendous music ever created (epitomized, perhaps, by the Ten
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Years After 55-minute "Eternal Boogie"), until the Stooges and Black Sabbath in brilliantly simplistic terms proved the whole utter pointlessness of superfluous guitar solos–all you need are chords.
Add to that Grand Funk's meanderings about with acoustic stuff (even strings for Chrissake–not that there's anything wrong with strings, but Grand Funk? Would you buy a Led Zeppelin With Strings album?), and then take into account the inconsistency of their albums and general lack of musical direction, and it has to be admitted there's a valid case against Grand Funk for general musical shoddiness.
All of this somehow misses the point, though. There've been plenty of albums I've kept by Question Mark, the Syndicate of Sound, the Knickerbockers, and the like, just for one great cut on an otherwise terrible LP. When all's said and done, Grand Funk aren't a lot different on vinyl. And they're getting better. "Loneliness" here on E Pluribus Funk is a truly convincing ballad, melodic and well-executed, while at the same time summing up Grand Funk's vision of universal brotherhood: "Pray for your brother, let your soul find a way/Help one another."
"Save The Land," on the other hand, is four minutes of fine straightahead hard rock, the kind that's nice to have around when you want to hear some genuine raunch. "Upsetter" and "People Let's Stop The War" also have their moments, though neither quite comes off. The remainder of E Pluribus Funk pretty much sputters and wheezes, the whole first side sounding like nothing so much as one long nondescript song that never catches fire. Nevertheless, the second side is almost a success, and in some ways E Pluribus Funk may be the best Grand Funk album to date.
Well, one thing's for sure. The Standells never sold out Shea Stadium, and in that respect Grand Funk may have performed quite a symbolic act, seeing as the spirit of American punk rock certainly lives on in GFRR (if in erratic amounts). And while Grand Funk may be often unsatisfactory musical fare to these ears (though much less so this time out), just take Black Sabbath instead–now there is an A-1 absolute killer of a group if I've ever seen one. In fact, if Black Sabbath are any indic
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