whydoistilldothis

[whydoistilldothis]

Vulfpeck is dancing at the edge of the world.

Vulfpeck does not exist to be a vacuous excuse for positive distraction.

Vulfpeck is dancing at the edge of the world.

If you weren’t aware, the Motown-inspired band from Michigan is not another drably choreographed group of white dudes playing Berklee Funk. The group, who formed in 2011 as a four-piece, is led by the mad-hatter of a bandleader, Jack Stratton. These days their line-up has expanded to an entire circus of rotating talent. They play tight, groovy, and well-informed songs, as well as instrumentals, that put the rest of the “Nu-Funk” (urgh) Spotify playlist to shame.

Recently, I have read too many milk-toast articles proclaiming that Vulf, as they are also known, is the joyous antidote to a terrible and persecuting world.

God, one even ended by saying “the world really does need some laughter right now…”

Vulfpeck is definitely no distraction, nor do they intend to be.

However, the band’s trademark self-aware silliness does distinguish them from the majority of other artists.

Among Gen-Z and the younger Millennials, a culture of ritualistic apathy has increasingly coloured their social media outputs over the past 10 years. Causes notwithstanding, this trend has developed in parallel with a gradual deterioration in trust of institutions. Online, younger people seek meaning, truth, fulfilment, and belonging in what they can salvage from the once semi-homogeneous culture that erodes around them.

And then there is Vulfpeck. A goofy group of college graduates who’s only raison d’etre appears to be an honest revelling in their own music-making. They have undeniable musicianship, for sure, but their refusal to take themselves seriously whilst treating their music as sacred is what truly sets them apart in the industry.

The band’s dual personality is perfectly poised and coherent across their every output. For example in the music video for “Sauna”, the single-take, one-room recording session is offset by the silly towel robes and red, bell hats that the band adorns. Furthermore during their Madison Square Garden show in 2019, virtuosic solos and sparkling ballads were accompanied by the unneeded members of the band reclining on sofas at the back of the stage.

The origin the group’s sense of humour comes from their bandleader, Jack Stratton. Even before the group had formed, Jack himself would upload mildly deranged videos to YouTube. Such classics include a satirical outpouring about his emotional connection to a for-sale tape recorder, intended for the would-be viewers of a fake eBay listing.

More recently in 2018 when Spotify launched their IPO onto the stock market, Jack was featured as an ‘expert’ interviewee by major news network CNBC. The program had intended for the bandleader to talk about Spotify’s royalty system and how Vulfpeck had somewhat gained it with their Sleepify album. Instead, straight-faced, Mr Stratton described the “fundamentals” of business economics; those being the basketball moves, the “bouncepass”, “jumpshot”, and “pick-and-roll”, among many other nonsensical utterances.

Jack’s refusal to participate in the traditions of industries is by no means only symbolic. Vulfpeck is signed to its own label, Vulf Records, along with the associated bands of its members - such as Cory Wong and The Fearless Flyers. Furthermore, for their 2020 album The Joy of Music, The Job of Real Estate, Jack Stratton auctioned off the 10th spot on the album to the highest bidder, and as far as I can tell, as a marketing strategy.

In a culture where the “corecore” hashtag on TikTok gets more earnestly depressed by the day, Vulfpeck reflects the post-ironic understandings of the younger generation in an artistic form. Instead of retreating from the horrors and realities of whatever era of late-stage capitalism we are in, young people yearn for humour in places where it traditionally does not belong.

They want to be recognised for their accepting and apathetic worldview, and then laugh about it. Vulf’s success can be partly attributed to filling this comedic void in the music industry. Their apparent rejection of authority may also be a hook that draws in those who are disenfranchised to the importance of systemic structures.

Their use of this style of humour also embraces the end of the search for societal-level meaning. In return, Vulfpeck offers their own authenticity, or their best attempt at it.

This is initially seemingly contradictory. However, for young people whose valuing of power-structures has been stripped for scrap, value can be found again at the point where sincerity and insincerity meet. No better is this highlighted in the so called ‘post-ironic’ understanding.

The band’s clear talents in musicianship, song writing, and soloing, scrambled with a fully self-aware lack of seriousness embody this. And with a lack of fabricated celebrity identity, which is commonplace and self-directed in modern fame, their music leaves you the listener to insert you own meaning, for your own sake.

However, this does however cloud Vulfpeck’s identity as an artist, which is further exacerbated by the band’s lack of frontperson that is a vocalist. Instead, this role in the band changes to fit any particular song’s style or to feature an outside-the-band artist.

As the ties between artistic identity and an artist’s real singing voice weaken, what does this change mean for the case of Vulf? For a band with a carousel-like singing position and many instrumental tracks to their name, Vulfpeck exist somewhat outside of this trend.

Unlike even the rappers who use disorienting voice effects, Vulf do not have a singular singing identity to weld themselves to. As a result, for those who find sanctity in a self-affirming identity, the group exists to be inserted into one’s own personal context. Like a popular song on TikTok that is repurposed and peeled of all its prior meaning, Vulfpeck’s music is mouldable to the self-expression of those who want it.

Vulfpeck is a band who fully endorse an apathetic view of the world. They are the laughing nihilist, the straight-faced hedonist. They do not care about what people think of them, but they care deeply for the music that they make.

Vulfpeck is the soundtrack to an end that will never come.