Crawford plays well, but the material rarely rises above capable, functional soul-jazz.
It's a Funky Thing to Do lands somewhere between Crawford's soul-jazz comfort zone and the harder funk grooves becoming fashionable in the early seventies. The band locks into a mid-tempo pocket throughout—horns push forward, rhythm section anchors down, everything moves with professional purpose but without much lift or urgency. The textures are warm: Crawford's alto sax is smooth and centered, never strained, never reaching for anything beyond his reliable wheelhouse. Organ and guitar blend into the background, competent but unremarkable.
The problem, as AllMusic noted, is that only "Parker's Mood" breaks free from the rest. That track has shape and intention; the others feel like vehicles that Crawford drives competently without destination. Seven selections pass by, none lodging in memory. There is nothing wrong with the playing—Crawford rarely made a bad record—but there is nothing that demands your attention either. This is professional work from a saxophonist who knew his strengths and stayed inside them.
By this point in Crawford's career, he was firmly established in the soul-jazz idiom, comfortable and commercially viable but no longer exploring. It's a Funky Thing to Do is a document of that stability: solid, forgettable, and honest about its own limitations. Not a peak moment, not a turning point. Just another session from a working musician keeping the lights on.