Invoking Malcolm X’s famous (and often misunderstood) comment that the 1963 JFK assassination was merely a case of “the chickens coming home to roost,” he makes it clear that if “mainstream” (i.e., white) America was shocked or terrified by what happened “on that day,” they have nothing to blame but their own disingenuousness, and nowhere to look but within their own history-and their own souls-to realize from whence those events sprang, what they portend, and how-if it’s still possible-we might still be able to confront the reckoning they demand, and then do the work necessary, to set things right.Ĭarl Nichols is a throwback. An Interlude, apparently taped at the Trump-incited January 6 insurrection attempt in Washington, DC, sets the tone Harris then comes in with a fierce denunciation of both the rioters and the living legacy of American violence and moral blindness they represent. It’s all prelude, though, for the title track, which serves as the album’s centerpiece. ![]() Mama Africa finds him summoning venerable images of bondage and escape (“Where you gonna go when you cannot stay”) and infusing them with revolutionary fervor (“Will you run and hide, will you stand and fight for what is right / On that day”)-much of which sounds like a nod to the late Nina Simone’s epic Sinnerman, updated and infused with new urgency. When he takes on more overtly political and social topics, Harris is even harder-hitting. As poet Toi Derricotte has reminded us: in times like ours, joy is an act of resistance. ![]() That’s not to say that most of the material here is outwardly “political.” Whether he’s delivering standards like the aforementioned Twelve Gates or a classic from the oeuvre of Charley Patton ( Some of These Days), Skip James ( Special Rider Blues), or Blind Blake ( That Will Never Happen No More) re-imagining a traditional Malian theme ( Toubaka, Sunjata) or spinning out a jubilant tribute to the Piedmont blues tradition (his own Afton Mountain Blues, featuring a crisp, dancing harmonica accompaniment from Phil Wiggins), Harris makes it clear, without ever having to say it in so many words, that the celebratory spirit of this music and the liberatory passion that fuels his own worldview and activism are inextricably linked. Gary Davis (whose sanctified rasp he invokes with almost eerie verisimilitude)-it’s clear that he’s intent on summoning the spirits of the ancestors to join him-and us-in the struggle to believe in, and possibly work toward attaining, a more just world and a better life. From the first track- Twelve Gates to the City, a spiritual often associated with the Rev. Corey Harris, who has focused mostly on exploring his music’s Africanist roots in recent years, returns to the “folk” blues sound with which he first made his mark.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |