Review Summary: When history speaks, we should probably listen.
I’ll be honest, there’s not a lot of times I’ll allow myself to immerse in the critical analysis of jazz music. When I do happen to get lost in the sultry compositions and smooth leads of the genre, it’s for relaxation, introspection or even basic levels of uncaring for the world around me. In this manner all that matters is the music around me, a soft chair and maybe a cheeky beer while the missus isn’t looking. It’s in this level of peace that I find the often gentle mannerisms of jazz cradle my more lazier tendencies - instead,
We Are Sent Here By History sees the same analysis I give to… less “chilled” styles of music.
The crux of
We Are Sent Here By History’s storyline is soaked in a cultural tradition. The clear African undertones of Shabaka and the Ancestors’ music stems from a heritage of Barbadian meets British tilted compositions that revel in sultry story-telling and overtones of contextual end of the world dystopian setting. To summarise Shabaka and the Ancestors’ sophomore,
We Are Sent Here By History stands as an apt way to communicate - but also a disservice to the soul-filled, occasionally space-spaz-jazz bellowing from the speakers. But, Shabaka’s newest lives and dies by its reedy dexterity, built from a back bone of noble jazz drumming that often runs as much adjacent to the rest of the composition as it does parallel. The album’s lighter opening in “They Who Must Die” pays direct homage to the act’s debut. The context is clear; the world has had its warning - now it’s time to pay the piper. Largely, the band’s music bounces between a world of semi-Cuban, African (like the moments that are sung in Zulu) steps and virtuosic free jazz which tweedle and bop to whatever mood is on offer; a paradox to the positivity which is built and denounced often in the same stanza.
Of the album’s shorter cuts, tracks like “Run, The Darkness Will Pass” combine diligent primal beats and melodious intertwining melody phrasing. Light chanting ebbs in the background as the composition hints at an interweaved crescendo - but never really gets there. While “Beast Too Spoke Of Suffering” takes a frenetic build and flurries it into a fully-fledged musical omen of a fauna led impact of the apocalypse and gives a focus to something mankind often thinks of last. The quieter moments promote this sense of vulnerability, before being lost to the likes of “We Will Work (On Redefining Manhood)” which promotes all manners of contemplation in the form of minimalism and hearty tribal themes.
What’s clear, even as
We Are Sent Here By History sells its largely ominous message; is that there's some level of underlying hope to be found amongst the decay and chaos. “’Til The Freedom Comes Home” embodies this thought. The rather jovial bounce in the introduction becomes another foundation to which the rest of the group builds on. But the album itself is over-complete. At over an hour in length,
We Are Sent Here By History is in part; long winded to a point where the story-telling gets lost, and then found again. Despite this it’s hard to deny just how enjoyable this album really is. Whether you’re here for the story, the music or to just “switch off”, Shabaka and the Ancestors can tick these boxes all at once.
When considered as a whole; Shabaka and the Ancestors’ newest piece is filled with moments of introspection, but doesn’t fall into a world of flamboyant jazz ideas simply for the sake of it. The Barbadian led musicality found here sets it apart from other jazz contemporaries, taking direct inspiration from a heritage found outside of the British empire.
We Are Sent Here By History is a quality, if not slightly overlong display of modern jazz, made more important by the contextual nuance found within looking at a grim future.