The feel of the ’70s was alive at the Music Box this Saturday thanks to Australian jazz collective Mildlife and their guest Valebol. Their groovy set filled the air with swanky synths, bubblegum bass lines, and glittering guitars. The only thing missing was a disco ball.

Valebol, the opening duo from Chicago, IL consists of Daniel Villarreal on drums and Vivian McConnell on…everything. McConnell played a different synthesizer with each hand, managed pedals with her feet, used a repeat pedal to layer her vocal harmonies, and even busted out the jazz flute in a performance that would humble Ron Burgundy. 

McConnell’s brief introductions made each song easy to interpret: “This one is about turning into a dolphin” or “This one is about being a lifeguard.” But defining the genre? Nearly impossible. The duo combined elements of indie pop with synth jazz, psychedelia with dream pop, and ambient with dark jazz—it was ‘unique.’

While McConnell rocked her multi-instrumental station, Villarreal accentuated everything from behind the drums. His solos were rare and short, but it’s as if he pulled them right out of Jupiter’s Great Red Spot, they were so stormy and decadently rich in rhythmic color. The variety of time signatures and meter kept audiences on their toes, especially when the rhythm was so tight no one could parse it out. “Is it ⅞? No… maybe 7 and a half/8?”

At moments, like when the lyrics jumped between English, French, and Spanish, the band felt otherworldly, as if they were astral-projecting their stellular presence from the mountainous peaks of Yoshi’s Island; and yet McConnell’s story about how she got her outfit that day in Barrio Logan was grounded and endearing. Volabol was definitely a crowd-pleaser and set a high bar for the upcoming Mildlife.

And Mildlife was not afraid to meet it. The band took the stage in a wash of large, layered synth pads garnished with the hazy humming of jungle sounds: bustling bugs, chittering crickets, and the veritable ambience of Rainforest Cafe.

The four-piece band led by Tomas Shanahan, Kevin McDowell, Jim Rindfleish, and Adam Halliwell, boasts a subversively traditional range of instrumentation: guitar, bass, keys, and drums. Currently touring their third album, “Chorus,” the group has an auspiciously clean tone that rivals the audio quality of the best funk and fusion-jazz records of the ’70s and ’80s.

Mildlife’s funky, groovy, jazz-based sound has a nostalgic kick conducive to dancing. Their rhythmically heavy approach to music is similar to the dance hall styles of LCD Soundsystem or Khruangbin, but with the psychedelic edge of Alan Parsons; one synth sounded so akin to Pink Floyd it’s as if the band plucked it out of whatever desert “Wish You Were Here” was floating around in.

While Khruangbin might be a good commercial comparison for the band, it's not a resource they should pull from creatively. Like Khruangbin, Mildlife’s greatest weakness was a lack of propulsion within their songs. The players had a lot of opportunities to fiddle around but they rarely took them. Despite playing cleanly, no groove or line ever built to anything more than just another groove, leaving the audience all dressed up with nowhere to go.

This lack of climax in their music was demonstrated by the drunk Padres fans streaming in late, ready to dance away that night’s loss against the Dodgers. The young, (mostly drunk) co-ed fans spent the entire show swapping doe eyes, spilling beer on us, and affectionately pushing each other, but the music never delivered that moment of make-it-or-break-it passion that should have roused one of them to ditch the boulder of unassertive, juvenile flirting and make out with the person they’d been ogling all night. 

The band imbued their music with a lot of spirit, but not enough pathos, which created a fun but directionless environment with nothing very tangible. But, while the music wasn’t climactic, it was enjoyable. Danica Satumbaga, a local aspiring DJ, had nothing but good things to say. “I probably levitated out of my body for a sec, that was CRA~ZY! And I wasn’t even on anything, just invisible music notes and groove carrying me into the air.” 

Danica came to the show because she spins a lot of Mildlife’s music in her DJ sets and wanted to see how they sounded live. “When ‘Magnificent Moon’ came on it sounded like the record, but in the ending, they looped the bridge part, they redid it, slowed it down, and transitioned it into another song and I just thought ‘WOW’” Danica said. “I love the record and the sound, but to see them live, I don’t think that can be replicated on wax.”

In an act of synchronicity, Valebol and Mildlife filled the Music Box with infectious grooves, otherworldly sounds, and feet-robbing rhythms. While the latter might not be necessarily inspiring Cervantean fits of passion, they were a tight, first-class band that was anything but mild.