Afrobeat pioneer and social pot-stirrer Fela Kuti once said, “Every human being has a duty to perform.” San Francisco-based afro-funk band Mild Universe took those words wholly to heart on their latest album Everything Must Change. With a signature sound whisked together using congas, horns, and basslines lathered in the shimmery foam of synths from the future, their calling card is a euphoric throwback to the essence of the groove spirit.
The band—made of Jamie Zimmer on vocals, Sam Jones on drums, Mayya Feygina on bass, Fabrizio Incerti on guitar, Adam Wilson on synth, Karina Alterman on saxophone, Charles Ryan on trumpet, and Saam Khanzadeh on congas—describe themselves as making ‘dreamy dance music,’ and that’s spot on. A few minutes into their songs, your pupils turn to shiny disco balls, rollerskating through a kaleidoscope of afros and bellbottoms. With an entire artillery of spirited instrumentation available at their tippy-toes, it’s no wonder their songs are so bouncy. Such a large ensemble has the potential to go terribly wrong, like a marching band on crack. However, these guys are a cohesive unit that knows what they want to put out, and that’s dance music that combines the effortless cool of electro with the frenetic vitality of African rhythms.
Essentially, Mild Universe occupies the corridors of Afrobeat and disco. You can totally imagine Everything Must Change’s first polyrhythmically-inclined track, “Connected Endlessly” on an episode of 1971’s music-dance television show, Soul Train. With modern-day production, Incerti’s rhythmic staccato guitar is in crystal clear form—something sorely lacking in the music mixes of the 70s, especially when you think of the guitar work on Graham Central Station. On the other hand, a song like “Divine Energy” tackles a 90s London electro-soul sound, with a wonky SBTRKT-style synth and a jungle beat instant hook. As Zimmer sings, “I thought I loved you, but you didn’t like me back,” her lush, sultry vocals switch between scatting, moving back and forth with the horns, and doing its own thing. The whole experience is one of forward-thinking nostalgia and truly makes the listener want to lean back and groove in the passenger seat of a homie’s car doing 50 down the highway.
Chaka Khan’s raw funk pulse is emulated to perfection on “Your Love,” in which her almost-inimitable ability to juxtapose upbeat R&B with a tender, commanding voice is harnessed. Mild Universe takes that natural weave of classic soul sprinkled with a few grits of funk to make an energetic and emotive track. While the song talks about how scary it is to see someone’s love for you change, the overarching breeziness of the instrumentation assuages all worry from the mind. The psychedelia of the mid-song Moog solo courtesy of Wilson is just icing for the baked.
Overall, this band creates a highly enjoyable malapropism of the earlier-mentioned genres. On several of the songs, the iconic guitar sound on Parliament Funkadelic’s “Maggot Brain” seems to be a major influence, dialing up the jam to levels so funky even a durian would stand at attention. Certain songs start mellow, using chimes and xylos to lull the listener into an REM-sleep haze, before pimp-slapping you right in the mug (looking at you, “Infinite Chance”) while others, such as “Everything Must Change,” maintain a stable and solid flow throughout, incorporating the horns and synths for a reliable track that mirrors the album’s name. Whatever the case, though, Feygina’s precisely placed basslines keep a tight grip on the farther reaches of the sounds, especially when everything goes topsy-turvy on “I Wonder.” The song’s rhythm seems to keep shifting—thanks to drummer Jones—but is held together by the cerebrally minimal bass work.
The dreamy, starfaring quality of their music comes back with a 4/4 beat and phaser bang on “Cosmic Dance,” the final track on the album, and a fitting name for a song that matches the sound. Zimmer channels a few of Grace Slick’s vibrato trills to perfection, as the band takes the listener to its final destination amidst the cosmos. Stars burst and hi-hats hiss in unison, and the crescendo of this closer is one that the ‘disco deewane’ of yesteryear would definitely approve of.
Mild Universe encompasses the sonic milieu of the times it pays homage to. Merging the best of past and future, Everything Must Change crafts the ultimate dance tapestry, with tight musicianship and impeccable production to boot. The album is a testament to the band’s ability to transport you through space, time, and sound; all while keeping your feet firmly on the dancefloor. And if one starts with a Kuti quote, it’s only apropos to end with a P-Funk lyric. So, “Put a glide in your stride and a dip in your hip. And come on up to the Mothership.”
