“This isn't a comedic tribute to talkboxes and widebrims; there's no Snoop Dogg descending a foggy staircase through a faded VHS haze here.” That's how the last paragraph of my review of Dâm-Funk's Toeachizown kicked off, and in hindsight it's sort of a strange thing to say in the album's favor. “Sensual Seduction” (or “Sexual Eruption”, depending on your comfort level) was a funny throwback showcase on video, but it also clicked big-time as an actual funk song; get past the then-unusual novelty of Snoop as crooner and it's the kind of tribute to 1981 that doesn't sound like an extended eyeroll at the era's expense. Would Snoop warbling those same kind of come-ons over some of Dâm's vamp-heavy slow-roller instrumentals really sound that ridiculous?
7 Days of Funk makes it immediately clear that it doesn't. Far from ridiculous, it's actually the most natural thing in the world, work from two musicians who grew up on the same sounds and were born less than a year apart. Snoop, recording as “Snoopzilla” as a conscious homage to the influence of Bootsy Collins, is in top laidback mode here, the self-assured smoothness that made him a star gliding along whether he's (serviceably) singing or (engagingly) rapping. Dâm-Funk's thing is revamping and renewing the classic synthesizer melodies, electronic basslines, and digital drums that coursed through funk both before and after they attached the “g-” to it, a triple-layered take on 80s electro-boogie, 90s West Coast hip-hop, and contemporary nu-funk that helps the music work on all these different levels. And with both artists' stated mission to do this project as a fuck-the-radio labor of love—home-recorded and assembled quickly, with a rush owing more to easy inspiration than stressful deadlines—the easygoing nature shines, even through the cuts that wax ambivalent about love or challenge rivals to step up.
The leadoff cut “Hit Da Pavement” pulls off this vibe from the word go, the titular refrain initially reading like a duck-down threat on paper but evoking that other meaning of hitting the pavement; Snoop's “you don't work, you don't eat” language acting as the prime motivator. He pulls off romantic appeals without sounding syrupy (“I'll Be There 4U”) and breakup ruminations without sounding antagonistic (“Faden Away”)—the kind of unflappable ease that still sounds satisfied with his vet-status years instead of bored by them. He's not Nate Dogg or anything, but his workmanlike singing voice is smooth enough to mesh with the piled-high space-flight chords Dâm-Funk uses to buoy it. It's late-night party music that sounds equally calibrated for winding down or getting worked up, and Dâm's typical propensity to let rhythms and riffs soak for a bit before taking off into solo turf keeps it moving.
It's a strong mode to be in, but 7 Days of Funk doesn't change or challenge things—it's a brief LP, even accounting for bonus tracks, and with everybody firmly in a comfortable lane there's not much surprise. There's Steve Arrington again, following up Higher with an engagingly quirky spotlight turn on “1Question?” that makes Snoop sound like a guest on his own track. Toeachizown highlight “I Gots 2 Be Done Wit' U” repurposed and given a new squiggly outro solo for “Do My Thang”. And the smooth-rolling vibe is so seamless and immersive that even the slightest deviation from it sounds jarring—Kurupt's verse on “Ride” is perfunctory though not terrible, and yet over that backdrop he sounds so far out of the pocket you'd need a chain wallet to bring him back. This isn't the out-of-nowhere clash of strange bedfellows that some people might imagine from a “Snoop on Stones Throw?!” expectation—in fact, it feels practically inevitable. Without the element of surprise or clashing styles forced to compromise, though, all you've got is a solid record that does exactly what you'd hope it does, nothing you think it shouldn't, and not quite enough to make you feel like they've explored every idea they could.
