Thundercat Swaps Zany For Smooth on It Is What It Is

The majestic strings that introduce “I Love Louis Cole,” for example, blend right into special guest Louis Cole’s uptempo drumbeat, an eruption of punk energy that sits in perfect alignment with the leisure-strolling funk of the next track, “Black Qualls,” not to mention Cole’s celestial keyboard swells that lift the beat up and send it soaring heavenward. Perhaps most telling, Bruner’s busy “Louis Cole” bassline sits tucked discreetly into the mix, so that when he runs laps around the fretboard a little later on “How Sway,” with its even more audaciously active fretwork, it doesn’t feel like Bruner is covering the same ground twice. The beauty here is that fans who enjoy Bruner’s gunslinger side still get a double-dose of what they came for.

Bruner encourages his guest musicians to go off just as much as he does. Oftentimes, the keys, drums and bass seem to race each other like stock cars, yet the flow gently continues even when Bruner intentionally contrives a pileup. Thirty seconds into the swooning love song “Dragonball Durag,” for example, the beat abruptly drops out for five seconds as saxophonist Kamasi Washington unleashes a flurry of notes. But the tune resumes with a ballet dancer’s grace. In a video posted the day before the album’s release, Bruner explained his love for the work of iconic bassists like James Jamerson, Larry Graham, Marcus Miller, Louis Johnson, and Raphael Saadiq. It Is What It Is isn’t so much a showcase for the bass, though. Instead, it functions more as a modern-day love letter to a certain bandwidth of the R&B spectrum that we would all do well to rediscover.

Bruner has certainly touched on R&B balladeering throughout his solo career, and his falsetto has become as much one of his trademarks as his fretboard technique. He’s also shown an affinity for dreamy atmospheres and sumptuous chord progressions that reared its head right from the third track on The Golden Age of Apocalypse. In the past, though, he seemed to walk a fine line between reverence and parody, as if he might just burst into laughter at any moment. On new songs like “Overseas,” “King of the Hill,” “Unrequited Love”—and just about any track on this album—Bruner comes across as more nakedly lovestruck, perhaps because he’s allowing his love for his influences to show right there on his sleeve.

Of course, listeners familiar with ’70s R&B will recognize Bruner’s obvious nods to artists like Heatwave, the Isley Brothers, Average White Band, Love Unlimited, Rufus, Leon Haywood, L.T.D., and so many more. But Bruner’s playing—and, increasingly, his writing as well—is so distinctive he’s able to own it even as he tones down his outsize personality. Many modern artists have mined these sounds, but few have honored them quite like Bruner does on It Is What It Is. Rather than just pillage old record crates for production values and sample fodder, it’s high time we stop and recognize the contribution that the aforementioned acts (and dozens more like them) have made to our shared musical legacy. Let It Is What It Is serve as a “gateway” in the most creative sense.

Saby Reyes-Kulkarni is a longtime contributor at Paste. He dreams of being a “setlist doctor” to the bands you read about in these pages, and has started making playlists for imaginary shows that your favorite band never actually played. He would love to compare imaginary setlists and online “mixtapes” with you. You can find him (mostly hyperventilating about sports) on Twitter @sabyrk_. He’d like to thank Scott Wallace, host of WRUR’s show Rejuvenation, for his insights on classic R&B that were invaluable in the making of this review.