"Funk Infection (Peter and Paul)" genre: Funk
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	Peter Nevland and Paul Finley destroy the notion of the ability two white boys and an acoustic guitar to groove. Take a listen and get infected.
	CD: Coming End of Summer 2003
	Story Behind the Song I was driving home from my engineering job at Motorola, listening to Herbie Hancock and the Headunters. I got that groove stuck in my brain and had to write this song about gettin' messed up with the funk. The tune came a few days later in the cleanroom at work. I believe this was the second or third take in the studio. Lyrics Funk Infection Maybe it’s the flared out, russet brown, corduroy jeans that are skippin’ the sidewalk off my steps. Maybe it’s the way synthetic fabric folds enormous lapels and drapes them across my chest. Maybe it’s the sounds of Herbie’s Headhunters jumpin’ and jigglin’ through the cool morning breeze of my windows, I don’t know, But I swear I’m infected with the feelin’s of funkness, That music so sweet, Time to get down to the funky sound of a crazy celebrational feast. The groove tones of five smooth stones Waitin’ to smack some giant right between the eyes, A surprise child underdog champion movin’ with acoustic star rhythm on the inside. Just like that ancient king who didn’t know a thing about killin’ Goliaths. He just had that bad mama sling slung over his shoulder, Deep smolderin’ eyes lookin’ straight through that large man’s pride, Not running to hide like his brothers, Peepin’ out from behind their mama’s skirts. He was ready to lay some smack hurt on Goliath’s ugly head. And you know it wasn’t stale, church organ music waverin’ in the breeze That made ol’ David shake his knees like a dancin’ madman loose in the streets. That man had James Brown’s beats loose in his feet. Time to get down to the funky sound of a crazy celebrational feast. I feel a little release in my hips, Gigglin’ out through my lips Into a slip slide, goofy glide, word jive That’s gonna take down some ominous giants of my pride. Let’s join hands in a freakily funky attack, Crack open the doors of friendship, Take off on a spaceship of jubilee community, Lay some tire treads right over the severed heads of all those Goliaths screamin’ in our way, We can’t be stopped from swayin’ to the music of this juicy joyful jumpin’ fat rhythm melee. Time to get down to the funky sound of a crazy celebrational feast. I can feel it in the beat.

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