Alright, let’s dive into this funky little gem of an album. Stanky Get Funky Touch My Heart by Billy Davis and The Vonettes is one of those records that sneaks up on you when you least expect it. It’s got that raw UK funk/soul vibe with just enough rhythm & blues sprinkled in to make your feet move before your brain even knows what hit it.
First off, can we talk about the track “Touch My Heart”? Man, this song grabs hold of you like a warm hug from someone who really gets you. The groove is tight—like, belt-buckle-tight—and Bunny Jones’ writing gives it this heartfelt edge without getting all sappy. You know how some songs are perfect for staring out a rainy window while thinking deep thoughts? Yeah, this ain’t that. This is more like dancing in the kitchen with a spatula as your mic, shouting lyrics at nobody in particular because life feels too good not to. Billy Davis’ arrangement keeps things smooth but punchy, and The Vonettes bring the soulful harmonies that stick to your ribs long after the needle lifts.
Then there’s “Stanky (Get Funky).” Oh man, if this track doesn’t get your hips swaying, check your pulse—you might be dead. From the first slap of the bassline, it’s clear: this tune means business. It’s unapologetically funky, dripping with swagger, and makes you wanna strut around like you own the damn room. There’s something so infectious about how everything locks together—the drums, the horns, the way Billy Davis conducts the chaos into pure magic. By the time the chorus hits, you’re either dancing or lying to yourself about having two left feet.
What I love most about this album is its honesty. Nothing here feels overproduced or polished to death; it’s real people playing real music straight from their hearts. And yeah, maybe the recording quality has a bit of grit to it, but honestly? That just adds character. Like finding a scratch on an old vinyl—it reminds you it’s been loved.
Reflecting on Stanky Get Funky Touch My Heart, I realize it’s kinda like meeting someone at a party who seems quiet at first but ends up being the coolest person in the room once they open up. It’s not flashy or trying too hard—it just is. And sometimes, isn’t that exactly what we need? A reminder that good music doesn’t have to shout to be heard.
Oh, and random thought: if this album were a food, it’d totally be a plate of greasy fries—messy, indulgent, and impossible to resist. Just saying.
