Dances with Vulfs

Rhythm section’s funk buddies make for “thrilling” debut album

For a band whose introduction to many was a collection of silent songs, Vulfpeck sure does make a joyful noise.

The funk outfit made headlines last spring after the release of “Sleepify,” an “album” of ten “songs,” each hovering just above the thirty second mark and each completely silent.

Exploiting a clever loophole in Spotify’s royalty distribution policy, the band encouraged fans to stream the soundless collection -- featuring tracks with particularly descriptive titles as “Z” and “Zzzzzzz” -- as they slept, as a means of racking up enough money to fund a free-admission tour to cities with the highest density of their fans. It took only a few weeks until the streaming service, failing to cite any particular violation of their terms of service, pulled the tracks, though they were good enough sports to chuckle “Sleepify” off as a “clever stunt” and to sign off on a $20,000 payout for the band.

Though Vulfpeck released three decidedly non-silent EPs before “Sleepify,” and another after, their truest statement of intent comes in the form of the deliriously funky “Thrill of the Arts,” their full-length -- and, yes, non-silent -- debut album.

Now, funk has never been a genre held up very closely to critical inspection; how exactly does one critique the jungly grunts of James Brown or the slap-and-pop bombast of Bootsy Collins? Funk is music of the soul and for the ass, plain and simple. But in a year in which Bruno Mars is the face of the genre, Vulfpeck, a self-described “half-Jewish, post-geographic rhythm section,” is cooking up the closest thing to what could be called “the thinking man’s funk.”

There’s beauty in the band’s simplicity, and their formula has been basically untouched since their debut EP, “Mit Peck,” in 2011. Inspired by famous rhythm sections, such as Motown’s Funk Brothers and FAME Studios’ Swampers, the Los Angeles-via-Ann Arbor, Mich., quartet has built their brand on simple arrangements of vintage Rhodes keyboards, airtight drumbeats and the virtuosic gurgling of bassist Joe Dart’s bottom end.

Where their previous collections have largely consisted of tuneful instrumentals, “Thrill” finds the band opening up the studio doors to a bevy of singers and other contributors. It may seem odd for a debut album to focus on showcasing external talent, but Vulfpeck’s arrangements and accompaniments shine brightest when the band is bringing out the best in others.

Longtime fans are sure to be pleased by the accepted invitation of saxophonist Joey Dosik, whose incendiary bleats blazed through “Outro” back in 2012, returning to winkingly stoke the fire of the album’s introductory montage, “Welcome to Vulf Records.”

Even more welcome is a reprisal cameo from hometown friend Antwaun Stanley, who previously graced two of the band’s catchiest tunes with his jaw-dropping, satiny vocal pipes. As his collaborative arc with the band has unfolded, it seems as though there’s been a direct correlation between the showiness of his singing ability and the ridiculousness of the lyrics put in front of him. Where “Wait for the Moment” had him doing vocal acrobatics set to a story of backyard football and “1612” found him swiftly crooning the passcode to his heart, here he pushes himself to his limits in an ode to some particularly fresh fowl on “Funky Duck.” Slip-sliding between hard clavinet jabs, Stanley commandeers the swaggering ode with the gridiron grace of a linebacker through a jerseyed storm.

It appears that Vulfpeck’s made some new acquaintances since their recent move to the City of Angels, and one of the album’s best tunes is coaxed from the interplay of producer and guitarist extraordinaire Blake Mills. Revamping a deep cut from Vulf’s back catalogue, Mills’ swampy blues licks ricochet off of Stax-approved finger snaps before evolving into serpentining slide lines on “Rango II.”

The crosstalk between Mills’ mercurial fretwork and bandleader Jack Stratton’s shimmering keys intensifies until a euphoric floodwall of sound envelops the whole mess. It’s a rare musical moment that seems to catch you off-guard, even after the song’s grown familiar.

This isn’t to say that the band needs a crutch to hit their stride; songs like “Back Pocket” and “Christmas in L.A.” are largely self-contained, showcasing drummer and guitarist Theo Katzman’s own vocal chops. Considering that it’s his first time singing on any Vulf record, wondering why it took so long for him to step up to the mic is truly an exercise in head-scratching. His layered harmonies on the Jackson 5-reminiscent “Back Pocket” are vacuum-seal tight, and in step with the lyrical content of Antwaun Stanley’s collaborations, Katzman leads the band through an adorably twee recollection of puppy love, crooning sweetly to his crush: “Do you like me? / Circle ‘yes’ or ‘no’ on this piece of paper / ‘Cause I really, really need to know / Are you gonna be my 5th grade queen?” In lesser hands, such lines would be gag-worthy, but the band’s levity is invariably underscored by sheer musical talent.

These songs are strung like pearls on Side A, but under their own weight they make the record flip a disappointing affair. The downward slide starts with “Game Winner,” a ‘90s R&B throwback jam that drives a love-as-basketball metaphor through the floorboards. The rest of the album is fluffed with ho-hum instrumentals that putz into borderline-easy listening territory.

The album ends off-key on “Guided Smile Meditation,” a bizarre “sounds of the studio”-style track led by Stratton. Largely spoken-word, the track brings the album, already slowed by its preceding instrumental snoozers, to a standstill. A subsequent listen may elicit another round of knowing chuckles, but even hardcore fans will find themselves lifting the needle during Stratton’s monologue.

As exciting as it may be for longtime fans to tear through an LP’s worth of Vulfpeck this time around, it’s hard not to wish that the group had cherry-picked the songs to make a five-star EP instead.

Even with its burdensome second half, “Thrill of the Arts” is a highly satisfying testament to Vulfpeck’s effortless musicality, demonstrating the band’s exacting restraint in the fringes of the limelight and their own goofy brand of virtuosity when they’re the center of attention. As the best thing that’s happened to funk music in years, we can only hope that they’ll remain un-silent.