This is an archived article that was published on sltrib.com in 2017, and information in the article may be outdated. It is provided only for personal research purposes and may not be reprinted.

Funk legend George Clinton and his Parliament Funkadelic band brought their Mothership to The Depot in Salt Lake City on Friday.

That literally is the only valid means of explanation for the wild, festive, undulating, shape-shifting show that took place — Salt Lake was temporarily and benignly invaded by a species of fun-loving party aliens.

The scene on stage was one of quasi-organized chaos, as it swelled to and was criss-crossed by as many as 14 members of the group at times — the man whose name graced the marquee, three guitarists, a bassist, drummer, keyboardist, trumpeter, two female vocalists, two male vocalists, multiple rappers, and a shirtless male contortionist decked out in a fuzzy pimp hat and an oversized belt and shoulder strap that spelled out "HOSS."

The 75-year-old Clinton — attired in a silver, sequined pharaoh robe and headpiece, to which he later added a feathered fedora — was frequently more bandleader or ringmaster than frontman, often literally taking a seat in front of the drumkit, content to let his cohorts handle the heavy lifting, before inevitably popping back up, grabbing a mic and growling out a few more lines with throaty gusto.

Not that anyone was complaining about the show they got.

The venue was packed with dancing denizens, who were treated to an array of songs ranging from funk— of course — to sultry R&B to rap to metal heavy enough to give even the most hardcore headbanger a good neck workout.

"Turn … this mutha out!" the performers exhorted the crowd late in the show.

And the crowd happily complied.

After all — when musical space aliens want to bring a party to your doorstep, who are we to disagree?

ewalden@sltrib.com

Twitter: @esotericwalden