First things first. Father Funk is one bad mother funker.
Known for his genre-bending fusion of funk, soul, and experimental bass, the Canadian multi-instrumentalist has emerged as one of electronic music’s most prolific producers.
Pulling up with face-melting wubs, psychedelic jams, and the spirit of live music running through his veins, the party tends to follow him everywhere he goes. However, this time around, things are a little different. With the release of his third album, Father Funk is not just bringing funk to the function; he’s funking up the system.
Released on Friday, November 14, Funk The System is a rebellious 10-track call to arms against the powers that be. Self-released and built off frustration with both the world and the music industry, the album embodies the kind of unfiltered defiance that defined generations of artists before him.
Where musicians like Rage Against The Machine, The Clash, and Jimi Hendrix used guitars and microphones to push back on the world around them, Father Funk channels that same energy through distorted bass drops, funky grooves, and punk-fueled grit. Yet, while his voice comes from a different era, the urgency feels the same.
“Funk The System comes from the resentment and frustration I’ve been feeling towards the music industry and the world as a whole,” he explained in an interview with The Daily Frequency. “I hope I don’t feel this way forever, but it’s certainly where my head is at right now.”
That level of honesty doesn’t come out of nowhere. It comes from an artist who never made music to follow trends or chase algorithms. From day one, his approach has been rooted in self-expression rather than industry approval. And if there’s one thing he refuses to compromise, it’s authenticity.
“For me, music is about radical self-expression and authenticity. I don’t necessarily think every track has to stand for something, but it should come from an authentic place.”
In a scene where many use music as an escape from the world, Father Funk leans into the world instead. His work doesn’t shy away from the messiness, confusion, or noise around us. It channels it. He sees music not as a retreat but as a way to push back, even if that pushback comes through groove instead of aggression.
Yet, even with that frustration, he’s never approached music with cynicism. If anything, he sees positivity itself as an act of rebellion in an increasingly divided world.
“My music has always been a force for good. I would argue that in a broken world, spreading positivity is, in itself, an act of resistance.”
That philosophy comes into full focus on Rage Again, his punk-fueled collaboration with Def3. The track doesn’t preach. It confronts. It taps into the kind of frustration people feel but rarely know how to vocalize. It’s a reminder that waking up doesn’t require a manifesto. Sometimes it just requires clarity.
“I think the main takeaway from ‘Rage Again’ is to think for yourself. It’s not enough to simply question authority, you have to question everything. There’s misinformation on both sides, exacerbated by social media platforms that reward outrage and negativity.”
While the world feels increasingly polarized, he finds refuge in the most analog place left: the dance floor. There’s something grounding about festivals and live shows where people come as they are with no agenda other than dancing and connecting. It may not solve the world’s problems, but it certainly provides a space for freedom and raw expression, even if it’s fleeting.
“I’m not sure what the solution is but what I do know is that music festivals and live shows are more important than ever. We need that space to let loose and to feel a part of something bigger than ourselves. Life never feels too bad in front of a speaker stack.”
Those spaces didn’t just influence him; they shaped his perspective on community and connection. They taught him that music doesn’t just connect people, it rewires them. And even today, he still sees those spaces as some of the last places where people actually come together for something good.
“Music festivals and live shows feel like a glimpse into what the world could be if we stripped away all the bullshit. Growing up going to festivals definitely shaped who I am. They made me a better person.”
But the scene has changed. What used to be counterculture has been absorbed by mainstream aesthetics. The kids who once mocked the weirdos are now booking the stages built for them. In other words, the culture that once felt like rebellion now sometimes feels like a trend.
“It’s feeling less and less like a counterculture as it becomes more mainstream. The kind of people who would’ve bullied me at school for being a music nerd are now headlining main stages as tech house DJs. I think people like that will always be more concerned with trying to look cool than making any kind of difference in the world.”
And that shift isn’t just cultural. It’s structural. The industry is dominated by corporations that treat music like a commodity instead of an art form. For independent artists, navigating that landscape isn’t just difficult, it’s discouraging.
“We need to stop letting greedy corporations like Live Nation, Ticketmaster, and Spotify monopolise the music industry. They are meant to provide a service but their main goal is to line their CEOs’ pockets at the expense of the very artists and fans they claim to serve.”
And even outside the industry structure, the digital space isn’t built for musicians anymore. Artists are expected to compete with viral distractions just to be seen.
“There also need to be better online spaces for artists to share music and connect with their fans. It’s easy to blame the Instagram algorithm, but it will always be impossible to compete with cat videos and comedy skits as a musician. Trying to compete for attention in that space is exhausting. There has to be another way.”
Musically, Funk The System is a distillation of everything he’s ever loved. While one can find similarities to the eras of the 60s and 70s that birthed some of music’s greatest acts of rebellion, Funk The System was directly influenced by the raw edge of the 90s and genres like punk, hardcore, metal, and alternative.
“I definitely went through a phase of listening to a lot of ’60s and ’70s music in my early teens, but these days I’m more into ’90s stuff like punk rock, hardcore, metal and alternative rock. I love it all though. Father Funk is such a great platform to create music that pulls from all the styles that have inspired me over the years.”
But when asked about the ethos behind the album, he points straight to one band.
“If we’re talking about artists that represent the ethos of this record, I think The Clash would be the best example. They really align with what I’m trying to do musically, and I’ve always connected to their lyrics. They were a punk band, but they touched on so many different genres throughout their career, and it always felt so genuine and effortless. They were truly great songwriters. If I could travel back in time and see one band, it would probably be them.”
That blend of influences only works because electronic music offers something no other genre truly can: limitless experimentation. It’s a sandbox with no walls, no rules, and no gatekeepers, at least creatively. It’s why his sound feels both grounded and unrestrained.
“That’s one thing that’s really special about electronic music, there’s just so much freedom and room for experimentation.”
That freedom is why, despite pulling from so many styles, the project still feels cohesive. He doesn’t try to force unity. It happens naturally when everything comes from the same place.
“I think that comes back to radical self expression. When I’m creating music that’s true to me and that I personally enjoy, there will always be a through line. Everything is being filtered through my own taste. The same goes for my sound design. I’m not the best sound designer but at least my sounds are my own, which makes my tracks sound unique to me and makes an album like this sound more cohesive.”
Even his sound design, imperfections and all, becomes part of that identity.
“The same goes for my sound design. I’m not the best sound designer but at least my sounds are my own, which makes my tracks sound unique to me and makes an album like this sound more cohesive.”
And while the album pushes him creatively, the live setting is where his music fully takes shape.
“Almost all my music is made with the dance floor in mind. There are a few tracks on the record that probably won’t make it into my set, but generally I’m aiming to write tunes that work both in my DJ sets and on your stereo.”
As Father Funk shifts further into a body of work built around original music, the experience onstage has taken on a different meaning. His early reputation was shaped by bootlegs that lit up festivals, but this new chapter has given him a deeper connection with the crowd, one built on songs that carry his identity rather than reimagined classics.
“It’s been hard transitioning from being known more as a bootleg guy to being more focused on original music, but it’s super rewarding when these songs get a big reaction at shows. I’m just grateful to anyone that’s along for the ride.”
At its core, Funk The System isn’t driven by shock value or surface-level rebellion. It reflects a larger push to protect creativity at a time when the industry often pressures artists to compromise. The album champions the value of genuine expression, especially when authenticity feels harder to maintain.
“I hope I can inspire people to follow their hearts and make something that’s truly their own. There’s a lot of darkness in the world right now and we need art more than ever. Even if no one hears your song or sees your painting, the joy of creating is enough.”
