Review Summary: “Just remember: earworms got to survive”
Let’s cut right to the chase: Schvitz is fun, fun in its shameless lifting of 70s dance music, fun in its goofy, innocent humor that wouldn’t be out of place on an episode of Sesame Street, fun in the way it manages to convey both lyrical seriousness and silliness, sometimes in the same song. Vulfpeck have been plying their trade for over a decade now, and the fact that they’ve kept a sound that relies so heavily on the sounds of yesteryear fresh and entertaining for that long is impressive, in part because on paper this should have been a formula that had a shelf life of maybe two-thirds of an album. But Vulfpeck have always been adept at retrofitting the venerable earworms of Sly and Stevie and breathing new life into them through a sly wink and a deferential tip of the hat. That their pastiche of the funk and soul greats of the past century should manage to both be tongue in cheek in its own right and a fitting and respectful tribute at the same time shows that the self-awareness with which Vulfpeck approach the aping of their idols is primarily affectionate, that yeah, it’s silly to be making this music so long after its heyday, so why not have a good time with it?
But, and here’s the problem with the whole thing, the whole affectionate tribute schtick often comes across as something you’d hear from a highly competent wedding band, something you go see, have fun and dance to, and then move on from without having been affected in the slightest by the whole thing other than reminiscences about the goofball dancemoves you and friends were drunkenly attempting to pull off. Everything’s tight and professional without sounded cramped or stilted in any way, Vulfpeck pull off whichever funk/soul/pop direction they’re leaning into effortlessly, the instrumentation is showy without being indulgent yadda yadda, etc. But it is possible to do this kind of loving pastiche while still making something
new out of it, while expressing something deeper than just a superficial affection for yesteryear’s luminaries expressed with winking self-awareness. Bad Rabbits’ Stick Up Kids is just one example of how a group can draw deeply from that old-school funk while still making something sincere, relevant and vital to its era. And admittedly, self-awareness and irony are one of our generations’ hallmarks, and Vulfpeck are hardly alone in this regard. But the ultimate effect of this attitude is one of inconsequentiality, of a good time, a diversion, a nostalgic tribute that merely makes one want to return to the source for something a little more substantial. At bare minimum however, we can be grateful to Schvitz for turning our minds in that direction while maintaining enough unique energy to be diverting for the majority of its runtime.
