Well, I'm glad that I picked up
Gullah Roots from an all-star jazz man, Etienne Charles, as it has confirmed an aspect of my childhood that I honestly thought had slipped southward through the opal of the hourglass. When I was nothing but a rugrat, there was a show on Nickelodeon where kids learned life lessons on a tropical island somewhere out in the Atlantic ocean with a giant tadpole in tow- I always assumed that it took place somewhere in the orbit of Haiti because of the accents that everyone had, and it's not a show that I've ever been able to reminisce with anyone about because no one else my age seems to be able to recall it existing, so I've mostly filed it away as a hallucination that I've experienced in my childhood, and left it in the backup RAM of my memory, teetering on the verge of oblivion by inattention. Well, wait a jog my memory there, Chuck! I've been sent down a rabbit hole this afternoon, confirming that
Gullah Gullah Island was in fact NOT a fever dream I experienced as a toddler, and probably most shockingly, it took place in the UNITED STATES!
Gullah Roots is the byproduct of composer, recording artist, assistant professor of jazz studies at Michigan State University, and trumpeter, Etienne Charles's exploration of the salt marsh swells and thriving island culture of South Carolina's Lowcountry, finding in these settings a certain familiarity between the people who call these places home and the Caribbean from which he hails. Gullahs, or Geechee as they're also sometimes called, are the people who share a namesake with the region, a distinct population in the American South who, due to their relative isolation over the centuries, have developed a unique and distinctive culture, as well as a language, primarily speaking an English-based creole with a plethora of terms and phrases on loan from their ancestors who were trafficked from the Congo River basin, modern-day Sierra Leone and Liberia, to work in the rice plantations which produced some of the first viable agricultural products of the Carolinas (and yes, as you've probably guessed,
Gullah Gullah Island is set on an isle off the Carolina coast, in one of these communities that retains its exceptional Lowcountry heritage- and is also apparently plagued by giant singing frogs, for better or worse...). Charles's treatment of this region on
Gullah Roots is, of course, beautiful and radiant, but doesn't stray too far afield from what you'd expect based on his previous efforts, 2024's
Creole Orchestra and 2019's
Carnival: The Sound of a People Vol. 1, combining the traditions of American jazz with those of his native Trinidad, with dashes of French Caribbean tossed in to spice things up, augmented here to a degree by a certain pan-diaspora spiritualism, which knits together the spirit and heart of displaced people in joy before creation and the Almighty, expressed through the gospel and soul-infused "Watch Night I (Prayer)" as well as the blissful step and shuffle of "Ring Soul," while paying special attention to the contemplative contributions of rhythm and resonance on the polymorphic title track and the arresting, unorthodox homily to slaves in revolt that is "Igbo Landing," which unfurls in a diptych style epic in exultation to pride and defiance.
Gullah Roots is a sonic tome waiting for you to unravel its secrets; every phrase an ode, every groove plots the path towards a fresh perspective- good music is like that, though: it maps the terrain and sets you free to discover its treasures and partake in its blessings.
