I HAVE often considered the design, creation, and marketing of a car

sticker which would allow terminal funkateers to flout the usual

restrictions pertaining to urban on-street parking. ''Enabled,'' it

would say in large letters on an orange background, with a smaller

legend beneath: ''Funked-up by the funk.''

I'd have made a mint amid Tuesday night's seething throng. Folk

boogied; folk soul-clapped in double-time. For, despite prancing around

in retro haircuts and unbuttoned-to-the-navel shirts like night-club

extras from an edition of The Persuaders circa 1971, the Heavies' guitar

axis of Andrew Levy and Simon Bartholomew crank out a dynamic, dramatic,

and functional funk. It do groove like a peach; it ain't no pastiche.

N'Dea Davenport is a perky, sassy presence, her vocals striking the

correct balance between sinuous and salty. The Heavies' three-man horn

section swings. The best Heavies' songs build to a conclusion, rather

than merely riding a riff, and their splendid current LP, Brother

Sister, is a welcome antidote to today's prevailing robotic rave-pop

dance-rhythms. But . . .

But the Brand New Heavies never quite manage to make you forget the

early-seventies influences -- Maze, Brass Construction, BT Express, the

Ohio Players -- from which they have forged their sound, their look.

In the final analysis, the Brand New Heavies don't pilot ye venerable

soul-funk steamroller to any place it wasn't 20 years ago. But where it

was in 1974 is still a mighty fine place to be. Get heavily funktified

and you'll feel brand new.