When Thundercat locks into the pocket, he’s immaculate. The man born Stephen Bruner is an adept songwriter, someone who soars above the instrumentation with a cooing voice and magnetic charisma. But it’s within the rhythmic grid, six-string bass in hand, where he truly excels. He can shred, groove, riff, supply whatever the moment calls for. His most memorable material features his bass’ hefty, wah-inflected low-end, which swims through the mix with a fluid clarity, an unequivocal star of the show. There’s a reason Thundercat has one of the best Tiny Desk performances ever; the musicianship on display is astounding.
2017’s Drunk was a breakthrough because of how Thundercat merged his unmistakable bass prowess with his growing abilities as a songwriter. On its follow-up, 2020’s It Is What It Is, that squelchy funk was still present, but it more heavily favored light R&B and astral jazz. Throughout, he kneaded his nerdy, self-deprecating sense of humor with heartfelt songs that mourned the death of his close friend and collaborator Mac Miller. For his latest, Distracted, he strikes the middle point, embracing the P-funk pocket and synth-led psych-jazz in equal measure that feels unbalanced nonetheless.
Opening track “Candlelight,” for instance, is pure, heady fusion. Flanged vocals and DOMi Louna’s galactic synths share as much room with showy bass fingerwork and JD Beck’s restless drumming. On “A.D.D. through the Roof,” bass and keys trade solos in classic call-and-response fashion over a lightweight backdrop fit for a smoky, dimly lit lounge. There’s also “She Knows Too Much,” an early standout that intersperses blasts of brass with a glassy keys solo and a posthumous Mac Miller performance. But those exciting moments are too often couched between mid-tempo monotony that blurs into a homogenous whole.
“What Is Left to Say” is among the worst offenders, whose yacht-rock vistas never quite rise to the transcendence they aspire to, unlike the Michael McDonald-featuring “Show You the Way” nine years ago. Lyrics have never quite been Thundercat’s strong suit, and he indulges his most unwieldy inclinations on “What Is Left to Say” with lines like, “Feelings are like children in a car / You can’t put them in the trunk / but let them drive / You won’t go far.” That drudgery continues with “Walking on the Moon,” a staid promenade through muted performances and startlingly clunky lyrics: “Your warm embrace / I’m underwater / So amniotic,” goes its beginning stanza. Fortunately, “This Thing We Call Love,” a collaboration with Channel Tres, rouses the album from some of its drowsiness with a Kaytranada-esque disco beat and silky vocals.
Distracted also happens to be one of Thundercat’s most collaborative albums, both to its benefit and detriment. There are songs like “She Knows Too Much” and “This Thing We Call Love,” but then there are the less inspired cuts. “Thunderwave,” featuring WILLOW, ends before it really goes anywhere, plateauing with little in the way of dynamism or development. An out-of-place A$AP Rocky, who is perfectly fine at singing and nothing more, guides most of the overblown synth-pop bombast of “Funny Friends” with an inert vocal hook. The Tame Impala-assisted “No More Lies” sounds like it was ripped straight from The Slow Rush with its punchy drums and key stabs, but it overstays its welcome: a narrative about down-on-their-luck, emotionally manipulative LA dudes drags on for over five minutes, superfluous spoken-word outro included.
Meanwhile, “I Did This to Myself” sends Thundercat back to the pocket. Despite a taxingly corny verse from Lil Yachty, Bruner locks in so hard that you can practically see him bopping his head to the beat, his nimble fingers navigating the frets with both intense focus and unbothered ease, like the scene in Pixar’s Soul where Joe loses himself in the music and transports himself to another world. When Thundercat is in this mode, it’s like he’s taking you on that journey with him, and you can witness the otherworldly magic he’s likely experiencing, too. It’s just a shame that Distracted doesn’t embark on that voyage more often. [Brainfeeder]
Grant Sharples is a writer, journalist and critic. His work has also appeared in Interview, Uproxx, Pitchfork, Stereogum, The Ringer, NME, and other publications. He lives in Kansas City.
