Thundercat Hypnotizes the Fillmore Auditorium in Denver
November 14, 2025
Denver’s Fillmore Auditorium is an institution. It’s been open for almost 120 years, hosting innumerable talented acts that have blown the roof off the chandelier-strewn, 4,000-person capacity hall decade after decade. But none of them have sounded anything like Thundercat.
Each live track begins familiar enough for any Thundercat fan. They’re his hits, and the LA-rooted bassist, producer, vocalist and songwriter has a lot of them. He’s got a couple Grammys too. But unlike his recorded work – hits included – his live renditions carry long, decaying into explosions of improvisational experiments that are at once challenging to audibly comprehend, yet ultimately and wholly hypnotizing.
He takes center stage, his drummer rolling off stage-left and his keyboardist to the opposite side. Both must have chops in order to keep up with the unexpected jazz-driven left turns that spin every track into fire sales of anything compositionally planned for in rehearsal. And for 90-minutes, they prove that gusto.
The only thing moving with the same pace are as the keyboardist’s keys, the drummer’s sticks, and Thundercat’s fingers are his dreads, whipping wildly across his Gucci goggles as he headbangs in a trance of his own making. His left hand seamlessly glides across the 6-string’s neck, type-a processing in real time, movements translated into lightning-fast scribbles in auditory form. When taking a step-back – when taking it all in – those scribbles amalgam into something larger and ultimately cohesive. It’s the work of a true master of his craft, spinning his almost microscopic threads of bass into a web of psychedelia.
That’s no surprise. Thundercat grew up surrounded by musicians. His father was a renowned drummer. Terrace Martin is his cousin. Kamasi Washington was his childhood friend. But to see it live – and to see it done with a bass of all fronting instruments – is something perplexing and complex in its minutia, yet thoughtful and nearly lucid when zoomed out. I’m sure for the musicians in the crowd – which I am most certainly not one of – there is a better understanding of the art we’re all lucky enough to be witnessing. But even for us normies, the whole performance is electric.
Organized chaos blooming in some gray area tethering Neo-Soul, Funk, Jazz, R&B, and Rock, the stylistic indefinability of the performance makes friends of many kinds of listeners who would otherwise – outside of Thundercat’s realm – perhaps have a limited crossover in their Recently Played playlists. The Fillmore buzzes, its halls brought to life by movement without any kind of premeditation. The funk is driving, the improvisation makes uselessness of the steering wheel, and the Soul nuances – the tonics and elixirs, too – bring warmth to everyone in the crowd. If there was ever a show to get a little out of your normal operating frequency, it’s a Thundercat show.
Check out the fully gallery from the show here:
