There’s no reason for Thundercat to be as charming and affable as he is. An artist of his stature — one who can command a performance venue as vast as the Salt Shed — can simply say hello to audiences and power through his songs. And his jazz-forward music doesn’t necessarily signal or require vivacious and lively crowd work.

Yet Stephen Lee Bruner, who performs under the stage name Thundercat, is (wonderfully) here to engage his audiences with the music and the meaning behind the music. This is not a performer who wants or needs to hide in the shadows. No, Bruner is eager to share in the humor and heartbreak that has made his music so compelling for more than a decade.

“Am I talking too much?” he asked at one point. Conversation was on the menu. From numerous animé references to details about his first trip to Tokyo, Bruner is not afraid to share the pieces of himself that go into his eclectic sounds.

Thursday night’s more than 90-minute set was brimming with eclecticism. From his lively stage setup — which included a gigantic, stage-wide structure and a mesmerizing and psychedelic light show — Thundercat’s “In Yo Girl’s City” tour is sure to envelop his fans in a feast for the senses.

In recent years, Thundercat has somewhat broken through to the mainstream due to the popularity of songs like “Them Changes” (which he performed) and “Funny Thing.” That certainly makes sense. Both songs, while almost weirdly structured, are some of Bruner’s most accessible and straightforward. And each serves as a perfect showcase for his harmonious and quite lovely voice.

During Thursday night’s show, that voice and its signature falsetto were on display. Tracks such as “Tokyo” off the 2017 album “Drunk,” and “Dragonball Durag” from 2020′s “It Is What It Is,” took center stage. Many new fans in the audience, who likely first became acquainted with Thundercat through his melodic, voice-heavy songs featured prominently on social media — perked up during these moments. Many audience members, including the two men next to me, even took out their phones and recorded the entirety of each song, watching the performance through the same handheld screen in which they likely first discovered him.

But I was most intrigued by how clearly rooted Thundercat still is and always will be to the traditions of jazz. During the beginning of the show, he dived into a suite of instrumental-heavy songs like “Interstellar Love” and “How Sway.” From there, he was able to dig deep into an improvisational groove with his accompanying keyboard player and percussionist.

The frenetic light show paired with the music set the scene for the night. Even on tracks with more traditional song structures, he always gave a wide berth for the improvisational-sounding moments to flourish. A song didn’t just end. A song could take the audience on a journey, and what a journey it was.

I was left feeling elated and reassured by a musician who, despite his new, broader appeal, is not afraid to showcase what he knows and loves. And in between these moments, he gave context to what created the song.

The most compelling moment of the night came, perhaps, during his performance of the song “A Message for Austin / Praise the Lord / Enter the Void.” The track, which originally appeared on his 2013 sophomore album, “Apocalypse,” was written in honor of the late musician Austin Peralta who died in 2012. Longtime fans of Thundercat are familiar with the track, but Bruner gave additional context during the show, letting the audience know it samples the late Ryuichi Sakamoto of the influential group Yellow Magic Orchestra. He spoke about how he had been able to let Sakamoto know how he had sampled his music, and the significance of that moment.

This performance, in some ways, was a double tribute, to the friend who died and the influence who, indirectly, made the song possible. Like most of his moments of banter, it showed Thundercat the artist is not just about the sound. Embedded in his music is a history of culture — from animé and Compton to Japanese synth bands and the “mile high club” — that somehow comes together and just works.

Britt Julious is a freelance critic.