An Open Letter to Stephen “Thundercat” Bruner
If you have ever been spurned, slighted, or let down, this article is for you.
This letter was written to Stephen “Thundercat” Bruner on 12:01 AM April 3, 2020. After four months of failed attempts, I decided to compose this letter, announcing my frustrations.
Dear Stephen Lee Bruner (And yes, I did use your government name because it’s been that type of day),
“With a moment of space in this wild and [deadly] spring, I want to speak the words I have had in mind for you. I had hoped that our paths might cross and we could sit down together and talk, but this has not happened.” You stood me up not once, not twice, but three times! And you, Stephen Lee Bruner, should be ashamed of yourself.
In a turbulent and murky time in my life, your music found me through a series of serendipitous events. However, I neither knew the magnitude that your music would come to have on me nor was it apparent that anything in my life at that particular time was as it should be and I need not fret. However, I did, and I am glad for it. My agonizing led me down a serpentine path past other mentors and sages: The Roommates Podcast with Hafeez and Chris, Stephan Labossiere, Lewis Howes, Matthew Hussey, Chris Rock and ultimately to Thundercat, your alter-ego. (I know you’re thinking how random, and this is why I so wished to have had the opportunity to recount this story to you because my delivery would not only have helped you through the confusion but also emphasize the gravity of this event).
Actually, I wonder if you can string together what these men have in common (if only for the moments that I stumbled upon them), and what I think has brought us together (or perhaps more accurately, what has bestowed your artistry upon me just as “it” was ghosting me ). I think you know that it was love.
You know that I would really enjoy detailing the seemingly unrelated circumstances that led to this event and ultimately, to me writing an open letter to you, Stephan Bruner, but I really cannot. It is well past 12 midnight on a school night, and I should be sleeping because I’m a teacher, preparing for another day of remote learning for the foreseeable future. Nevertheless, this is yet another occasion where a conversation would have been best.
But, let me just say that when I heard the first 29 seconds of “Them Changes” from your second album, The Beyond/Where the Giants Roam, I was quite literally called to attention. It was definitely in the middle of the night sometime back in November 2019. I was re-watching Chris Rock’s Netflix special Tambourine for the umpteenth time when I scrambled to Shazam what I now know was the catalyst to my processing the changes in my life, your song, aptly named, “Them Changes.” And like Rock’s sentiments on marriage and circumventing the aftermath of a failed marriage, I wasn’t ready for the song “Them Changes” upon hearing it the first time. (Because of this I wholeheartedly believe that The Universe did what it does best; it presents you with what you need when you are ready to receive it. And Stephen, I was grateful for the breakthrough that your music has given to me. Do you believe in such synchronicities? Again, something for the sit down.)
This time, however, I surrendered myself and became completely engulfed by your cosmic spin of the nearly indiscernible elements of the Isley Brothers’ “Footsteps In the Dark.” But where the parallels between the two songs can be drawn is also where these parallels remain equidistant: In “Footsteps In the Dark,” The Isley Brothers debate the next steps to be taken out of that limbo couples often find themselves in, ‘Should we work it out or should we just cut our losses and split”” Conversely, “Them Changes” is at the other end of the relationship spectrum, the painful end where the bitter finality of a relationship dwells. (Was this intentional or sheer happenstance? Or is this strictly me and the meaning that I bring to your music? No doubt something to discuss.)
In my questioning of this parallel and the mounting desire to whittle down each and every one of your lyrics and chords to their essence, I realized that I needed to hear more, much more. And since that fateful November, I have been contemplatively, and un-regrettably spiraling into this abyss ever since. So, suffice it to say that when I heard that you were performing with Raphael Saadiq at NJPAC on Valentine’s Day, I was all in, and I even went as far as to buy a ticket for that phantom love in my life.
So, it was on 8:00PM Friday, February 14, 2020; the first time that you stood me up. The fact that it was Valentine’s Day and I am currently going through a major transition in my life did not bring about the otherworldly sensations that your music has been known to bring over me.
But no worries, my father and I made good time out of it. (Yet another thing that I wanted to discuss with you: how your music, though it reeks of loss, there is a resounding sound of possibility in the ethereal beats, your hypnotic thrumming, and the straightforwardness of your words. Also, I thought it would be a good time to gain your permission to Swede your music. (I can almost see the puzzled look on your face, Stephen. Do yourself a favor: while in quarantine, watch Be Kind, Rewind with Mos Def, Danny Glover, Mia Farrow and Jack Black. Then you’ll get it.) I was hoping to Swede: “Lone Wolf and Cub,” “Message to Austin,” and of course “Them Changes” among others. You know that this would have been easier to explain if you had not stood me up.)
On my quest to prepare myself to be The Ultimate Thundercat fan (‘Brad Pitt ain’t got nothing on me!’), synchronicity found me once more. Friend Zone pumped into my hand-me down Bose portable speaker just as It became brutally clear to me that I got friend-zoned in the worst way. It became my anthem: besides studying it, I annoyed my daughter with it on car rides and at random times throughout the day; I showered to it; I got dressed it; I walked to it, I cleaned it, and when I began to skate again, I naturally skated to it on repeat for at least 20 times (I finally got cleared for physical activity. All of which, I wanted to share with you in addition to learning about what ended up happening between you and your ‘Muse’ for this particular song.) I desperately wanted to ask if there were other songs dedicated to this particular person. How awkward was it when you shared this piece? Are you guys still friends? And I would hazard a guess that if you are still friends with that particular person, most would say that that is a real testament to that friendship. That could be true but I think perhaps it is your ability to understand and to expose the human experience for what it is: a series of monotony peppered with mercurial moments so capricious and callous at one moment and kind and constant the next.
Stephan, as I infer this about you, it just did not seem possible that you would be capable of standing me up again, but you did: 8:00 PM Sunday, March 22, 2020 Fillmore in Philly. You stood me up for the second time in little more than a month. However, considering the concern for public health, I understood that this was the right decision. But, needless to say, again I felt slighted. But at least the date has been postponed and not canceled as yet. This one is excusable, understandably.
As this “wild and [deadly] spring” started to announce itself to this continent in all of its subtle ferocity, I was comforted by knowing that I had your fourth album, ”It Is What It Is,” while in quarantine. According to iTunes, it was scheduled to be released Wednesday, April 2, 2020. But you expertly built up anticipation for it, curating sporadic releases of three tracks, offering listeners a sample of the emotional smorgasbord afforded to them through your music. The first was “Black Qualls” with Steve Lacy and Steve Arrington, an upbeat yet melancholy declaration exploring the bittersweet experience of being a Black man in America in 2020. (Un)surprisingly, like you and Audre Lorde wrote in 1979, I have learned that our “archetypal experience [is] distorted and trivialized.” And I was amazed, as I always am, with how you managed to capture this disparity between the highs and lows of such an experience with the Arrington’s voice, the former, and your sonorous bass playing, the latter, mirroring each other. Then enter Lacey’s voice over: a summation of and motivation for THE journey, trailing off with “Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”
What a treat! You dropped the “Dragonball Durag” single and a video?! I quite enjoyed this sensual, silly song and its visual counterpart. Still, with all its hilarious antics and follies, it manages to convey that all too familiar feeling of reaching for someone’s affections and approval and betraying yourself (even if only a little) in the process. The broken bravado is evident throughout, from the first lyric, “I feel kinda fly, standing next to you” to the constant need for reassurance throughout, “Let me know.” It’s genius! (Stephen, you never cease to amaze — this is meant in both admiration and out of frustration.)
The final sneak peek was “Fair Chance” with Ty Dolla $ign and Lil B. Again, I must shout out whomever curated these releases; they truly gifted listeners to your musical range, intellect, and to the smorgasbord of emotions that can be felt while embarking on the unfathomable journey while experiencing your music. (I will write more on this single when I eventually get to embark on my fourth intergalactic voyage via “It Is What It Is.”)
Needless to say, I was counting down the days to the release of this album, your album, which was initially slated for April 2nd (might I remind you, Stephen). But unbeknownst to me, the date was pushed back to April 3rd. Upon this discovery, though I was a tad bit disappointed, I had some papers to grade and lessons to plan and decided to take care of those loose ends during this interim. But what I think was a cruel joke on my behalf or perhaps an April Fool’s Day joke two days late, I cannot be sure, but again I felt jilted. When the clock struck 12AM on the morning of April 3rd, I was again stood up by you for the third time. So, instead of finishing up my work and going to bed, I felt it necessary to express my disappointment. Hence, this letter to you, Stephen Lee Bruner.
I could go on and on, but lucky for me, I need not; because as I frantically checked my iTunes account throughout the duration of writing this letter, I realized that you’ve FINALLY released “It Is What It Is.” Though I do not expect you to make amends for your standing me up three WHOLE times, I do expect to be transformed in some way by this album as I have been by your previous work. I’m eager to listen, so I’ll get back to you about my findings. (Don’t worry. I’m a woman of my word.) Next time, whether it be a concert date or a musical release, I hope, (perhaps I am being a bit unrealistic here), that you won’t stand me up again.
Sincerely a fan (See, what I meant about Brad Pitt?),
Tarshia Griffin
@nofrillsnofear
@thundercatmusic
Lorde, Audre. “An Open Letter to Mary Daly.” Internet<http://www.historyisaweapon.com/defcon1/lordeopenlettertomarydaly.html accessed April 3, 2020.
