Thundercat Plays the Fillmore Again, Finally
This letter was written to Stephen “Thundercat” Bruner in response to my initial correspondence in April 2020.
Dear Stephen a.k.a. Thundercat or should I now address you as Bruce Leroy?
It didn’t seem appropriate to write without having made It Is What It Is the soundtrack of my life. It’s been almost two years, I know. Lucky for me, the extended exposure permitted opportunities to get some context and to experience live performances of your album. As a result, my listening skills have improved as well as my overall appreciation for you and your music.
The Good and the Bad
Here’s the good: You and Erykah Badu at the same venue! (I really don’t know why people were warning me about going to see Erykah in concert. She might take four hours to descend upon the stage, but at least Sis, be showing up! You, on the other hand, my friend, have a history of being a no-show. But remember, this is the good.) You actually showed up. Lastly, I met some nice, interesting people. Our conversation progressed from music to moon rituals, Jesus, the third eye, side hustles and traditional medicines.
Well, here’s the bad from the beginning: I was late! Securing transport from Downtown Detroit to the Michigan Lottery Amphitheater proved more challenging than expected, resulting in me speed walking across Metro Parkway as you played “Dragonball Durag’’ because though I was late, I wasn’t about to sweat out my edges. Trust, the irony was not lost on me.
The amphitheater’s policy on fanny packs?! What was up with that?!
Because of this, I was further delayed and inconvenienced.
Like two songs later, with my contraband stuffed into various places, I settled next to those nice folks I mentioned earlier. The mother-daughter combo beside me were celebrating their first concert together. The fourth member of our quartet was rescued from lawn seating by people she had never met before. It was an all-inclusive rescue mission, which included adult beverages. We had great seats though we were standing. It was easy access to the concessions and a perfect view of the stage.
I have discovered that one must stand just a hair behind the drummer but not as far as to obscure said drummer’s side profile. One should be close enough to the stage to note exaggerated facial expressions but not too close. Finally, one will know when they are in that perfect spot when all three musicians are in frame. At the Michigan Lottery, you were accompanied by Dennis Hamm and the legendary Louis Cole of “I Love Louis Cole.” In Philly on November 4, 2021, instead of Cole’s, it was Justin Brown’s deftness on full display.
To simultaneously watch the hands AND footwork of a drummer was everything that Dorothy hoped she’d find behind the curtain. Unlike Dorothy, I have never been disappointed. Best seat in the house. After the Detroit show, I can say that I saw Thundercat and thee Louis Cole perform “I Love Louis Cole.” It’s akin to people bragging about how they saw Hamilton with the original cast. It’s a big deal.
Sidebar: Swag and Surprises
Unlike in Detroit, at the Fillmore in November, you actually attempted to play with your wrist noticeably adorned. Yop, you boujie. But those bracelets had to come off like your signature shorts. I was glad to see that you packed pants to protect dem ashy knees from the cold. You were repping the Blue Note super hard. It made me wonder if you were going to pull-a-Kamasi on one or both of the following days that you were scheduled to play in NYC.
During Glasper’s residency at the Blue Note, Terrance Martin was there and Kamasi magically showed up. Your brother was there also. Though Ronald was not technically there in a formal performance capacity, the banter between them, and of course the music, made for a great show. A magical night. My date for the evening captured the vibe, I think, perfectly. Though a second date is not in the foreseeable future, it was a dope exchange of books, music, and advice. Additionally, I got him to agree that Bilal Oliver is a genius.
[SIDENOTE: Each show was so memorable and so impressive. These experiences make me wonder if anyone either with Brainfeeder or anyone affiliated with these venues is recording them. When I’m at a concert, I’m plugged in. I restrict myself from using my cell phone even for recording. But sometimes I succumb to gluttony despite knowing that this will take away from the experience. What results is awful footage as I try to avoid watching through the screen.
See what I mean? Whether it’s an audio-visual recording or a mere sound recording, something must be done. Just send the link so that I may place my order.]
Back to Detroit:
Well, as you may remember, it was good vibes and ganja ablaze at the Lottery. Yet I still embarked on a solo mission for libation during the changing of the guards. Here’s more of the bad. Aside from being late and missing what I hoped was only three songs, I missed a great photo opp.
Apparently, you traipsed into the audience and back toward the stage. I arrived just in time to see that the very same people with whom I was learning the significance of ovulation during a full moon got pictures not of you but with you.
You know how I feel about Philly and the Fillmore. Yet the fact that I was delayed in Detroit and the addition of the foiled photo opp (SMH), I had an attack of FOMO. So, when you announced that “I Love Louis Cole” was to be the last song, I actually booed before singing along. All of a sudden, Philly didn’t look so bad afterall.
Philadelphia, Finally!
While I can say that I saw every minute of your set,
…I have to report that time bested me yet again. I was late-ish. Channel Tres was a good 10 minutes into his set before I snaked my way up toward my preferred location. Still, I got to experience “Brillant N*GGA.” When Channel Tres stumbled on the stage at the end of his set, and said, “Clumsy N*GGA,” we all wondered when we could expect the release of that single.
Channel Tres got one more follower that night.
SHOWTIME:
My concert position never included a view of Hamm’s finger work, but I think this just adds to the enchantment. His movements between what I imagine are keyboards and some sort of teleportation device help to transport us into the futuristic, sometimes fun and sometimes frustrated fractals of you, Stephen Lee Bruner.
Still, my-drummer-left profile position offers the best views of all of the nonverbal communication between you three and each of your individual reactions to each others’ performances. Hamm, for instance, occasionally bounced on his seat like a jovial child, discovering that there’s dessert to follow dinner. To add to the magic of that performance, it appeared as if you and Brown were reenacting the iconic “Challenge/Sandman” scene from The Cosby Show (The perils of including this are noted and the last image in the clip does not make things any better. I felt compelled to include this just in case you had no idea to what I am referring.)
My first concert was on my Golden Birthday before that was a thing. Christina Aguilera opened for TLC at the Garden. TLC welcomed Prince on stage to play at the very end! What a great show. Left Eye performed a song, reiterating while simultaneously debunking what people said about her — she was the crazy one, as this was post-fire.
It was 2000. A year of firsts: first concert, first relationship, and the first time I cried at a concert. There is something about sharing space during live musical performances. The music is more exacting. It’s an intense experience that has me wishing there were/are rewind and pause buttons.
I’m not quite sure where you go whilst you’re playing, for I know we were not quite there with you. In fact, it seemed like an invitation to choose our own adventures. Wherever we decided to go — whether it’s to the bathroom (which I will circle back to later) or it’s into the eyes of someone dear to us, the music made for an excellent usher. It was and is something to behold.
The second time was triggered by Ani Defranco at the State Theater in New Brunswick, NJ. The third occurred in Detroit. Miss Badu paraded upon the stage singing “Hello, Hello.” When she got to the embedded Isley Brothers’ lyrics from “Hello It’s Me,” it hit: “It’s important to me that you know you are free…” Her outstretched arms and her Erykah Badu-ness welcomed awe, admiration, and a welling up.
The next time came quite unexpectedly. Kamasi did it. And it was not even at his show. It was exactly two weeks prior to this Fillmore show at the aforementioned Blue Note set during Glasper’s residency. The banter on stage, off stage, and between the stage courtesy of Terrance and Ronald was a nice reprieve from the waterworks. Glasper looked out at the audience, and the drama in his eyes confirmed that we had witnessed something special. I was so happy to have already secured tickets for the Beacon the following night.
When you primed “A Message to Austin/Praise the Lord/Enter the Void,” thrumming and talking, you nearly did me in. When you went into a marvelous version of “Lone Wolf and Cub,” it was another close call. It was as if you were trying to egg me on especially with “Them Changes.” Close, Bruner, but nope!
Listening to these three songs that night, I recalled crying, singing, and brooding all at the same time. It was never ending. Eventually, though she was singing the wrong lyrics, The Kid, my kid, joined in. She thought you were singing “Lone Wolf and Cup” (She got it honestly. I just realized that you were not saying beach or beat but peak in “Funny Thing.” I really appreciated getting a do over that night. I’m a firm believer in second chances. Thanks!) Aside from smiling at the memory of my daughter singing so earnestly “Lone Wolf and Cup,” I am proud to say I did not surrender to tears because there were none. There was not an ounce of saltiness or sadness lingering within me. In fact, now when I play The Beyond/Where the Giants Roam EP, light-heartedness exists where gravity and the uncertainty of darkness once loomed. So, no trigger warnings necessary. That album now serves as my emotional barometer. If tears are to be shed, they are happy tears for the growth that I see within myself.
While I didn’t capture it all on video, I am happy to have lived it. Thank you!
Highlights, Questions, and Concerns, But Not in That Order
Though the terminology surrounding bass playing is quite interesting, I won’t bother to speak on slaps, licks, feels (or is it fills?) and touch, non-diatonic harmonies and such because I’m still thoroughly confused. So, I will stick to what I know — observations and questions. During my discovery period, I watched tons of interviews, listened to countless podcasts, and went on too many tangential paths. In one interview, you spoke on Jaco Patorius and the iconic “Portrait of Tracy” and I was stumped for months, trying to figure out why that song was familiar. Then it dawned on me — -”Rain” by SWV. I don’t need you to confirm this because I’ve since Googled for confirmation only to find that “Portrait of Tracy” has been sampled numerous times. As per this same Pitchfork interview, I know that you are “not a [bleeping] scientist” or a fortune teller, but what’s the future of the bass? What do you envision as the next “moment” after Patorius’ “moment?” Wait, it’s you, isn’t it?!
“Fair Chance”
This was not easy for me to write. As you can see, I tried to hide behind the commentary of others. You must realize that I have just recently come out from under my rock and have exited left after the tunnel only to realize I have a TON to catch up on. Listening to “Fair Chance,” it dawned on me that I missed Mac’s entire discography. I knew not one song nor any references made.
However, it was a clever kind of call-and-response to Mac’s lyrics. I’ve since added Mac to my queue. It’s weird, I feel like he’s everywhere now. Look what I spotted while visiting Arizona.
“Overseas”
With this song, I gave up clutching my pearls in exchange for Clorox wipes! First, you talkin’ about some long, lengthy flights (from JFK) — -Russia: 12h 20m; Brazil: 21h 45m; Japan: 30h 15m. Then let’s not forget that they actually feed you on these lengthy flights. This is well and good until we’re talking about a restroom rendezvous, where matches are not permitted in a space where there aren’t even enough matches in the book to cover the stench. Who cares if someone sees?! Despite the sexy, slowed down version y’all played at the Fillmore, I cannot unsee those mystery droplets on the floor that cause poorly discarded tissue paper to stick to the bottoms of shoes. I do not even dare imagine the haphazard attempts to avoid certain surfaces nor can I rid my nostrils of that swampy smell that often permeates such tight, confined spaces, frequented by dozens of gassy, constipated people. The things we do for love. I cringe and shiver at the thought while reaching for my hand sanitizer.
“Miguel’s Happy Dance”
This might not be saying much from a teacher who once performed a partial retelling of the Odyssey for students to Future’s “Mask Off” to prove a point. (It most certainly will not win a Grammy. Congrats by the way!) However, “Miguel’s Happy Dance,” is definitely relevant and far-reaching. I’ve spent a couple of decades listening to kid-friendly music collections (“The Alphabet of Nations” is still a family favorite), so I know a little something about kids though my taste in music might be considered unconventional (Trust, I would kill “So Long and Thanks for All the Fish” if it were available for karaoke.)
No one is exempt from the trials and tribulations of life. I think it’s particularly challenging for kids because they experience the full range of emotions without knowing how to identify and/or express them. If there was a clean version, this song would totally have been in the queue for the morning dance off between my former students versus my colleague and me. (Though I miss the liveliness of the classroom, I’m happy to be on the other side of the proverbial desk. Instead of grading papers, I’m now writing them. Hence the major delay in this response — I need to practice academic writing.)
This leads to another query. I looked into Victor Wooten (See, how I tripped and fell?!). His methodology on teaching music as well as his personal introduction to music was astounding. (Whose idea was it to introduce kids to music via that janky plastic recorder, anyway?! And who continues to advocate for its use?!) Wooten remarked on how young musicians tucker out because of traditional instruction, which reminded me of an Alicia Keys interview in which she indicated that she had indeed burned out and stopped playing briefly during her teen years. Has this been your experience?
“Unrequited Love”
Boy, are you taunting me again?! Let me just tell you that I’ve nearly exhausted all of my life lines on this one.
Let me back up: I did as you suggested and listened beginning to end-–all 14 songs. The song that follows “the one song you love,” resulted in another one of those ‘Wait! What?!” moments. It was hard not to repeat that particular song at that moment, but I completed the entire album first. What I heard felt like a welcome, warm embrace after returning from the chaos of life. Again, there was that spark of familiarity. By the time the entire album concluded and I had returned to this song that I thought was a phantasm, “Unrequited Love”grabbed my attention.
Using physical descriptors for each, I’d say that the former is a frantic chase with a satisfying end–being enveloped in a lover’s embrace with all the tenderness (the guitar) and the passion (the drums) that one could ask for. However, your “Unrequited Love” is akin to The Nod+. You know how we do toward one another to say, “I see you, sis,” “I see you, brutha,” acknowledging our shared humanity and existence. I felt your pain, brutha.
The former is what I consider a weeper though I have no idea what he is saying. (What is he singing? I’ve searched for the lyrics and had to phone my homeboy for a favor. I’m still waiting on Wharton. My daughter and her friend hit up their group of friends from school. The Collegiate Clan is still out. I’ve got one more life line. While I’m asking you, we know how that might go [Insert side eye here]. I’m weighing my options: should I ask the polyglot Jo Franco @Jo_Franco or representatives from the UN?). Nevertheless, any tears shed on that particular song would be of pleasure and joy.
Your composition is the inverse. After your flex in the intro, you transition into a lament instead of a lullaby. Here I cheated. I asked my daughter’s boyfriend’s Nana to listen to the two songs. At 80-something years old, she has all her capacities. She did not care for your singing, but she pointed out how melodic your music was in comparison. I thought this odd, considering the subject matter. The former song has its cluster chords throughout its introduction, which I am almost certain I hear in some of your other pieces. Yet you veered away from that here (I think). With your deep, low thrumming and THOSE strings (the violin in this case), torture and torment were masterfully captured. The one line refrain might have been enough, “…the one that got away,” but coupled with the musical accompaniment of the shaker and drums, one can envision the longing and ensuing chase. This intensity in “Unrequited Love” amounts to a mere trailing off. It’s an open-ended, incomplete and despondent ending. It doesn’t end as the former song, happily like a sort of celebratory clapping with the tapping of the hi-hat. I see you, Stephen.
Strangely, this song, yours, is danceable or in my case, shakable. Though you might have used a maraca, it reminds me of that wooden cabasa from church that the adults gave us kids to get us to participate and expend some of that penned up energy from sitting for hours, craving food and a change of scenery. It totally supports what is said about “dancing” through the pain. Movement is extremely helpful, which is rooted in real science, apparently. (I’m not sure how the algorithm works on dating sites, but I ended up swiping right on two neuroscientists in a one year span. The first recommended the book linked above and the other aptly fit the subject of this song). With each subsequent swell in the bridge/chorus (which Nana quite enjoyed), I go from shoulder shrugging and head nodding to that 90s dance from the “Jump” video by Kris Kross and “They Want Efx ‘’ by Das Efx by the end. In a fan-created music video by guardi guard, which uses clips from the film “Paris Blues,” starring the legendary Diahann Carroll and the late-great Sidney Poitier, the clips in the nightclub really capture that same energy.
It’s been a couple of years since you composed this song, so I hope that if time and distance didn’t do their thing, you’ve come to discover the truth in these old axioms as I did, “A [hu]man’s rejection is God’s protection,” and/or “What’s meant for you won’t pass you by.”
What else am I missing here? What other little Easter eggs exist in your other songs?! Wait, what am I missing in all the other songs that I have listened to over the span of my life?!
“How Sway”
Two words: cheeky; complexity.
This snack of a track embodies every meaning of the word cheeky:
- Rude: the conversation linked in the title is on the nose. I am nearly a decade late for this quotable and laughable exchange. I am surprised yet delighted that a video on celibacy led me to it;
- Flirty: Kenny’s port-a-potty that you assaulted might say something else, but the vocals on the track are reminiscent of my brother’s and cousins’ attempts at flirting with cute girls walking by, “Ay,” “Yo.” I have a ton of brothers and male cousins and have witnessed some crazy wack pick-up lines. I’m not sure which one said this, but it always got the object of their short-lived interest to laugh, “Hey, my Pokémon wants to Pikachu.” Probably, would not fly nowadays and would definitely be considered more rude than flirty;
- Spontaneous/unplanned: “It’s meant to be more of an exercise” as per your Fuse interview, I’d say that the fact that it made it on the album is somewhat spontaneous;
- Quick: this song is a robust 1:14 minutes long. Watching your fingers while playing this is nearly impossible. In fact, I would be lying if I said that I actually saw you play this one. This leads to the second word, but first, did you set out to embody the word cheeky?
The second word is complexity: I knew there was something happening here, but I just didn’t and still don’t have the mental dexterity to identify or speak on it. The simplicity of words harken back to a book I read to my youngest students, Yo! Yes? At first glance, it appears as if the book is just an exchange between two boys that makes for a great introduction to punctuation and two-letter words. The vulnerability needed to forge a friendship, however, is the underpinning of the story. So, I knew there was something happening beyond the words. So, luckily E. E. Bradman’s article written for Bass Magazine provided a little insight. In the section titled “Part Three: The Virtuoso,” though he provided an explanation in the form of a geek out between two bass players on staff, I was/am still dazed and thoroughly confused. I love to see other people geek out, but unfortunately, they were speaking a different language. I tried to find a cheat sheet but to no avail (By the way, Bradman created a playlist on Spotify in your honor titled “Stephen Bruner the Session Cat.” Find others under “adifferenttrip”).
“It Is What It Is”
Powerful send off.
The placement of this title track reiterates the permanence of death. It is fitting for an album dedicated to the loss of your beloved friend and your resolve to accept life as it occurs. However, I cannot end on that note.
“Innerstellar Love”
Wow! This was just ONE VERSE, but it felt like a full-fledged journey. Optimistic with a twinge of unpredictability, characterized by the instrumentation. It mirrors the nature of the real life quest. Great execution and crew: Kamasi AND Ronald!
Are you studying Carl Jung? I only wonder because of some of the lyrics.
It is abundantly clear that you have some serious fans. This anthem is a fan-favorite. There are two unofficial videos for “Interstellar Love;” both amazing and both capture the potential hazards of embarking on such a voyage, yet they present very different sentiments on the matter.The first, option A, presents a series of scenes from the 1980s anime Do You Remember Love? that ends in triumph. The second, another guardi guard I should mention, option B, showcases the devastating, sad myth of Chronos and Dahlia. The latter, I have learned, is a short film titled “Destino.” Disney World scrapped it just as it was conceived in 1945. Though it would not come to fruition until the early 2000s, this visual rendering yields more views than the former. Herein lies the rub: it offers an unsavory and unfit ending, love unrealized.
Despite being in direct contrast to your lyrics, “I’m going to find someone to love,” option B is hands down more stimulating. However, it seems to perpetuate the notion that love is unachievable. For the record, this is by no means me negating the value and joy of singlehood, but that belief seems inescapable. Perhaps it was just that footage was perfect at chronicling the quest, or perhaps it best described the views of the creator, or perhaps it’s a direct result of what you’ve been putting out thus far, Mr. Bruner.
As an official member of the unofficial Team Thundercat, I hope this album provided the closure that you deserve. I will not speak for the rest of the team, but I think it’s safe to say that there is eager anticipation for the next chapter, your next chapter. I, for one, am awaiting what Terrance is talking about on “With You,” lovers/partners making plates for each other at the BBQ. You don’t like potato salad or something?! If not, what about what Damian Marley is talking about in “Grown & Sexy.” We’re all ready and set to go! You’ve taken off now and I wish you well. As per your request in “Lost in Space/Great Scott/22–26,” I’ll pray for you.
Well, I’ve kept my word. Thanks for being a cosmic catalyst of sorts. So, I guess this makes us even, Stephen. “Bye for now” (I’ll let this slight slide).
Sincerely,
Tarshia
P.S. If you’re so into restroom rendezvous and your next chapter includes a “Love Toilet,” I’m here for it.
