Backstage at Camp Flog Gnaw in 2025, asked which artist from his childhood car rides still shaped him, Thundercat didn't hedge: "It was definitely Stanley Clarke, Jaco Pastorius, George Duke, those were elemental and key in my development as an artist." Stephen Bruner grew up in a Compton-area house built for that answer — his father drummed for the Temptations and Gladys Knight, his brother became a Grammy-winning jazz drummer — and he picked up bass in a home where music was simply the air. He spent his teens holding down bass in the thrash band Suicidal Tendencies, then became a first-call session player before Flying Lotus signed him to Brainfeeder and coaxed him into singing. Fusion virtuosity, six-string runs, and an unguarded falsetto turned session chops into something genuinely strange and personal — a bridge between 1970s jazz fusion and Kendrick Lamar's To Pimp a Butterfly.
Thundercat can't say for certain whether his first cassette was Stanley Clarke's Journey to Love or Jaco Pastorius' debut, but by the time NPR profiled him in 2013, Clarke had become the teacher whose lesson stuck hardest — not a bass lick, but a philosophy passed down like scripture. "Stanley Clarke told me one time that we're servants — that's what our duty is," he said. "This art is a service." Years later, closing out his own debut album, he built its entire outro as a direct bow to that same record.
listen forClarke's "Journey to Love" floats on a fretless bass melody that sings the tune rather than just holding it down underneath. Thundercat's closing "Return to the Journey," from his 2011 debut, answers it almost line for line — "I kinda mimic it a bit," he's admitted — and the resemblance lives less in the notes than the unhurried, vocal legato of the phrasing: two bass lines both quietly doing the work a lead singer usually would.
When Thundercat finally got to meet Joni Mitchell after a Hollywood Bowl show, he skipped small talk. "The first thing I did, like a complete nerd, was show her the tattoo of Jaco on my right calf," he recalled. Mitchell, who'd toured and recorded with the bassist in the late 1970s, wasn't impressed by the gesture: "You know, I loved the guy, too, but I wouldn't get him drawn on my body!" Jaco Pastorius is the other name Thundercat gives, alongside Clarke, when asked who taught him to play bass at all.
listen forNo single Thundercat song announces itself as answering one specific Jaco tune, but musicians dissecting 2020's It Is What It Is kept hearing the same inherited habit: chord progressions that stay simple until one wild, off-key leap — "his non-diatonic chord jumps ... are probably inspired by ... Jaco tunes like 'Teen Town' and 'Havona,'" as Bass Magazine's own analysts put it. Cue up Teen Town's chattering high-register bass runs against the chromatic snap inside Black Qualls' central riff: the same instinct to make the bass line jump sideways instead of resolving where you'd expect.
By the time Thundercat had a daughter of his own, he was doing what his own father once did for him: cueing up records and waiting for a reaction. "I'd be like, 'Sanaa, this is it, this is the thing.' She'd be like, 'This sucks,'" he says of playing her George Duke — a keyboardist he has separately named, alongside Clarke, among the "major influences in my own creative evolution." Duke is also the only one of Thundercat's three childhood idols he has actually recorded: a full cover on his 2011 debut.
listen forDuke's 1975 "For Love (I Come Your Friend)" is a lush, keyboard-driven soul ballad; Thundercat's 2011 cover keeps the melody intact but strips the arrangement down and slows the pulse, rendering it, as one reviewer put it, "in more laid-back and blissful fashion." Both versions lean on an unguarded falsetto to carry the tune rather than any flashy bass playing — the clearest evidence, of the three influences here, that Thundercat didn't just absorb a style, he learned an actual song.