Parliament Mothership Connection 180g 45RPM 2LP Mofi Vinyl

“Do not attempt to adjust your radio.”

The instruction that begins Parliament’s Mothership Connection prepares you for an ecstatic journey and establishes the setting for a cosmic trip into galaxies populated with galactic grooves, joyous vibes, cheeky humor, streetwise slang. This is nearly 39 minutes of some of the best, sweatiest, most enthusiastic funk devised — all laid down by an all-star band responsible for what Rolling Stone named the 363rd Greatest Album of All Time.

Sourced from the original analog master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, and housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 45RPM 2LP presents Mothership Connection in audiophile sound for the first time. Making its debut on 45RPM, Parliament’s benchmark benefits from the wide groove space by playing with tauter bass, enhanced definition, and more realistic presence than prior editions. Everything from the brassiness of the horns to the crisp slap of the snare to the fleshy snap of handclaps comes across in full-range perspective.

This collectible 50th anniversary reissue of the 1975 set exhibits a combination of transparency, solidity, and imaging that brings into clear view every note Parliament committed to tape at United Sound in Detroit and Hollywood Sound in California. On this pressing, the dynamics, hooks, and hip-shaking verve of Mothership Connection practically explode. Important facets such as the bountiful depth of the bass lines to the brassy purity of the horns to the distinctive textures of the various keyboards comes across with immersive realism.

A perfect storm of creativity, chemistry, and composition overseen by leader George Clinton, the platinum-certified Mothership Connection ties together Parliament’s then-burgeoning blend of bulbous funk, psychedelic soul, rule-breaking rock, science-fiction fantasy, and Afrofuturism themes. The group’s first effort to feature the virtuoso horn tandem of Maceo Parker and Fred Wesley — fresh from an extensive stint with James Brown’s J.B.’s — it spawned three iconic singles, received entry into the Library of Congress National Recording Registry, and proved a massive influence on the early and mid-90s West Coast hip-hop movement that swept through popular culture.

No matter where you turn, Mothership Connection grabs and holds your attention. The intoxicating adventure begins with the truly out-of-this-world cover art. Just try to ignore the riotously clever image of a finger-snapping, legs-splayed, sunglasses-adorning, knee-high-boots-wearing Clinton sitting within a glowing space ship sailing the Milky Way. He designed the concept record around the idea that few would imagine Black people in outer space — so that’s exactly where he places them.

Clinton has plenty of help from a cast of like-minded explorers that includes notables such as Wesley, Parker, Bernie Worrell, Bootsy Collins, Cordell Mosson, the Brecker brothers, and Jerome Brailey. Though the collective enjoys unrestricted freedom in its pursuit of “the bomb,” every track on Mothership Connection unfurls with laser-focused tightness, cutting-edge sharpness, and natural grooves that seemingly stretch out forever.

“Let the vibes flow through,” Parliament instructs on the opening funk anthem “P. Funk (Wants to Get Funked Up).” The easy command is one of many spoken-word directions that helps construct a mythological universe that allows the band’s personalities and alien alter egos to shine. The following title track introduces the Star Child as the song glides, struts, and skates its way through an atmosphere pregnant with vibration and feeling. As it incorporates the refrain of the spiritual “Swing Down Sweet Chariot” into a dipping-and-diving arrangement, Parliament crafts one of the most often-sampled cuts in history.

Parliament doesn’t let a moment go to waste on Mothership Connection. For an even bigger hit than the two aforementioned cuts, surrender to the infectious mass of step-to-it vocals, shimmering cymbals, pulsing beats, silvery horns, and burbling bass lines on “Give Up the Funk (Tear the Roof Off the Sucker).” Attempt to track the assembly of twisted and tweaked Minimoog, ARP, and pianos orchestrating the restrained “Supergroovalisticprosifunkstication,” as much a mantra as a song. Need an instant excuse to dance? Cue up “Unfunky UFO” and shake it like you mean it. Oh, there’s sexiness in Parliament’s version of outer space, too, thanks to the rise-and-fall architecture of “Handcuffs” and the madcap lead vocals of Glenn Goins.

Thump, thump, thump. A whole lotta rhythm goin’ ‘round, indeed.