Some new audio goodness from Robert Glasper with Erykah Badu doing it on that vocals… a take on the Mongo Santamaria composition Afro Blue this will be included on Robert’s next project Black Radio. Also, make sure you head over to robertglasper.com to pre-order Black Radio as well as to sign up for a free download.

Robert Glasper x Erykah Badu – Afro Blue by BamaLoveSoul

No it’s not Sunday(this tune is certainly a prime candidate for our “Cover Me” series) but the reason I selected this song today is all about the 0:03 mark. Ms. Badu says it all there. Because this is truly “Grown Folks Music”

Forget about the Mozart Effect(trust, I love Wolfgang as much as the next person, seriously I do) but give me the Badu, Ayers, Wonder, Hathaway, (or insert your favorite GFM artist) Effect any day of the week. But more than fulfilling my own musical needs the generations to come need this music more than ever. This is the type of music that needs to be analyzed and performed in music programs across the country right along with classical music, jazz and whatever else is in the curriculum.

I want the generations to come to have the ability to create their own classics of music. The first step in that process is being presented with a real classic and being equipped with the tools to demand more from the “artists” you listen to. If no one expects more, most people won’t do more. The expectation level has just been elevated: Welcome to GFM Nation!

If you haven’t had a chance to peep out the RE:GENERATION series in which a variety of DJs will team up with artists from all genres, Mark Ronson has crafted all-star collaborative cut A La Modeliste. On this jazzy ensemble banger, the UK DJ/producer/songwriter/guitarist comes together with Erykah Badu, Trombone Shorty, Mos Def, Zigaboo Modeliste and the Dap Kings. Dig…

Mark Ronson – A La Modeliste (ft. Erykah Badu, Mos Def & Dap Kings) (RE:GENERATION) by Moosetache

Great new mixtape from GFM fave Collette which serves as the overture for forthcoming full length album Revolution due out later this Spring. Revolution is a truly independent fan-funded production which you can read about here. Instead of talking about making a difference Collette and her supporters are making a difference in the marketplace 101 supporters made this project a reality. Now that’s a Revolution! Checkout Coco By Request below and head on over to Collette’s Bandcamp to purchase a download to keep the Revolution going.

Erykah Badu – Gone Baby, Don’t be Long from beeple on Vimeo.

RAHBI is the soul of Rock and Roll, a revolving energy that continues to produce Legends, Statements, Superstars & Icons. Musical Goddess Erykah Badu has dubbed RAHBI as “Pure Light” while Janelle Monae says his fearlessness inspires her. RAHBI’s new single “ROLLERCOASTER,” produced by Grammy award winning artist PJ Morton, encourages the world to live life on the fun side… A lovely prelude to his forthcoming studio album “GoldenChild.”

Future/Past, New/Familiar: “Rollercoaster” is an electronic musical cine-play that contains flourishes of Newcleus, Laid Back and Linn Drum era Prince coupled with a multi-layered vocal ensemble that is reminiscent of the “Wall of Sound” that doesn’t make its way into many of today’s production. If you would like to be transported on a ride that is equal parts aural and cerebral stimulation, press play. You can purchase the EP on iTunes here.

Rollercoaster by GrownFolksMusic

Ahh… what better time to wax philosophically than a Monday morning. Yeah right. But something has been on my mind for a while now and I just wanted to commit a few words to what I’ve been thinking about.

I’m wondering if this concept of “Grown Folks Music” has always been with us? Is it a natural progression in musical taste as one matures? Or is the concept a fairly recent development( and by recent I mean the last 20 years or so) spurred on by a perception of a downgrade in the quality of popular music. Really and truly that’s what we are discussing here, popular music because there has always been great music that for one reason or another does not become popular so unfortunately it is not part of the discussion.

Look at this list of song titles and artists for a moment….

I’ll Be There-The Jackson 5
Master Blaster(Jammin)-Stevie Wonder
Love Takes Time-Mariah Carey
Bag Lady-Erykah Badu
Can’t Be Friends-Trey Songz

The reason I selected these songs is because they just happen to be the #1 R&B single this week of their respective decade from 1970-2010. What I’m curious to know was there a group of music lovers on 1970 who identified themselves as followers of a particular standard who had a disdain for The Jackson Five? Certainly there are persons who have always identified with other forms of music and loathe pop, but I’m curious to know if we can honestly look at these songs decade by decade, artist by artist and say that there was a critical mass of music lovers who yearned for a higher standard for their pop music and were vocal about it.

What say you? What are the origins of GFM? Recent phenomenon or has this concept been with us since the second generation began playing music the first generation didn’t like?

Special thanks to Sarah Crisman for conducting this excellent interview!

Gino “Lockjohnson” Iglehart: Growing up on Camp Wisdom Soul

Interview by Sarah Crisman, October 27, 2010

Gino “Lockjohnson” Iglehart is as comforting and familiar a presence in Dallas as the bright red Pegasus anchored atop the Magnolia Hotel downtown.  Born and bred in the Gospel crowd and as part of the Camp Wisdom family – a collective of influential musicians who grew up along Camp Wisdom road in Oak Cliff.  Save for his college years spent at Southern University in Baton Rouge and a year spent commuting between New Jersey and Dallas – Lockjohnson has been a staple drummer and community supporter his entire life.  As is wont to happen to the talented cats here in Dallas, Gino was scooped up by Erykah Badu’s camp in the early days along with the rest of the Camp Wisdom crew, including N’Dambi, Geno Young, Braylon Lacy, and Grammy-winners Robert “Sput Searight, Shaun Martin, and RC Williams.  Lockjohnson played and wrote on Mama’s Gun, toured extensively with the Badu camp, and served as Erykah’s Musical Director for five years.

I sat down with Gino last week and he gave me a very candid look at the interpersonal relationships, tensions, and lessons learned from his years spent working with this tight family of musicians.  Gino will debut his own original work this Friday, November 5^th, at Arnetic in Deep Ellum — Right down the street from where this soul revolution first took shape.

You grew up in Oak Cliff in the same neighborhood as Geno, Sput, and Shaun.  Unlike many of your neighbors who went on to Arts Magnet, your musical roots were honed in your Gospel upbringing, correct?

Yes.  I was a PK (Preacher’s Kid) – preacher’s grandkid, nephew, cousin, all that.  My whole family is in the ministry and the majority of them play something.  My dad thinks he can play organ, but he’s awful.  He also thinks he can play guitar and it’s even worse.  But he can sing and he can preach.

Where did the nickname “Lockjohnson” come from?  I’m just curious.

We were recording the Tunin Up & Cosignin album for N’Dambi with the Camp Wisdom family.  On this particular song, Keith Taylor was playing bass.  We had played this stuff before, but we hadn’t recorded it, so we were trying to generalize the ideas.  He was trying to learn this bass line, but I’m in my own world in the isolation booth and I’m playing the song, ready to get at it.  He just shouts out “Got dang, Lockjohnson, lemme get the song first!” The whole room fell out, lit up with laughter and that was that.  Thank you, Keith Taylor.

I keep hearing about the Camp Wisdom family; tell me about this particular group of individuals.

The street, Camp Wisdom, connected all of the members in some kind of way.  You could get to each one of our houses within five minutes using Camp Wisdom:  Shaun Martin, RC Williams, Geno Young, Braylon Lacy, Sput, Jason Davis, and Madukwu Chinwah.  It was a big Oak Cliff thing (though Jason is a South Dallas cat– the Night Mayor of South Dallas, as we call him).  The first meeting for the band was in my living room.  Shaun and I were playing for Friendship West, Geno had just come back from Howard… but the story was much more vast than that.  I can’t just sum up Camp Wisdom from that meeting. I have to go way back.

Go for it.  Go back.

Before Sankofa was born, there was a place called Kaladus that was really the birthplace of Camp Wisdom.  We were all looking for an outlet.  We had been playing in all the jazz clubs and wherever else we could.  Even though I wasn’t a part of the Arts Magnet “school crowd,” I knew all the guys from church.  Anytime anyone was playing anywhere, I would go and check them out.  Whether it was SoHo’s in Addison (we could get in there), or Sambuca.  I really didn’t start getting out onto the music scene listening until I was 16 or 17.  My family is kind of strict when it comes to the religious/spiritual side.  They weren’t trying to hear me say at 16/17 that I wanted to go to Sambuca to hear my friends play.  Whereas for Shaun and Sput that was normal; it was what they were going to school for.  Sambuca was the place you could go play and it was cool at our age.  Right there in Deep Ellum – and Deep Ellum was jumpin’ — serious music scene back then.  You could find anything any night of the week.  I grew up in church playing drums my whole life, but it was not something I wanted to do for a living.  I wanted to play soccer and own a barber shop, and figured eventually I would become a preacher.

At this point everybody was getting to know everybody from playing in church and musicals here and there, then Kaladus was born and this sound was birthed that we were all familiar with.  We hadn’t grasped what had just started.

What was familiar about this sound?

The soul.

Do you think that was a church thing?

It came from the church roots, and it came from what we all knew and that happened to be the same thing: Soul.  James and Marvin and Donny… You’d have conversations with guys at gigs about what they were listening to.  We were fresh in this music thing and in understanding what was in our ears.  The conversations were starting to get deeper.  Now we wanted to do records.  By this time, the God’s Property had come out and they were phenoms.  We got all amped up and “that’s my boy!  Sput!  Peebody!  The whole crew.” Everyone was excited and realized they could be next.  I played with God’s Property before, that’s me!  We were excited, but we didn’t know how to wrap it up yet; it was still undressed, very naked.  Kaladus was real gut-bucket, grassroots.  People were doing poems, they were singing.  Mind you, this is before they dubbed it open mic.  It was just rockin’ the mic.  I had a real cheesed-up drum kit; someone would be playing the keyboard in their lap because they couldn’t afford a stand yet.  It was real, uh –

Janky?

Yeah!  But it was so much fun!  N’Dambi was already on the scene making noise.  People knew her as Chonita from the church scene.  I got hip to N’Dambi by meeting Geno Young.  I would dub Geno the godfather, really, because all of our connections to N’Dambi and Erykah funneled through Geno.  I was working on a job before I ever knew who Erykah was, playing in little jazz sets, but I haven’t heard the name Erykah Badu yet.  I had met N’Dambi, but hadn’t worked with her yet.  So I’m sitting at my desk one day, on the job, and “On & On” comes on the radio.  I’m listening to it and it feels so right.  I said that sounds like me! I play like that.  I could do that! I can’t remember what my title was—but I was in a desk and I had a title, Supervisor of Corporate Services.  I was doing a spreadsheet and I said “I’m gonna play for her one day.”  Less than a year later, I was.

Tell me about that infamous Velvet Elvis gig in 1998.

The Velvet E!  I linked up with N’Dambi through Geno and the Velvet E was her show.  It was such a dope venue, I hate that they tore it down.  All the different bands playing that night happened to be all the cats.  This is still before we were dubbed Camp Wisdom – man, this story is great because this is the first time we meet Bernard Wright!  I didn’t know the history of Bernard up to that point; I just know who Bernard Wright is.

This was the first time outside of bootleg shows at Kaladus that I had actually played with N’Dambi.  This was the big hoorah.  That night was monumental.  Geno had been singing backup for Erykah at this point and was sending us updates and gettin’ hip to what was happening on the road.  There weren’t any issues, really, but Erykah was still fresh.  She didn’t put together her first band, the label did.  It was a power trio.  She felt like wanted and needed more.  She’s very much a control freak (like the label said), and she wanted to have her snap from Dallas.  Meanwhile Bugg (Geno) is singing backup for her and she made sense of it and asked him to put something together for her.  N’Dambi and Erykah had a checks and balances system — they made a pact when they were comin’ up that whoever gets on first has the other sing background and then they flip until the light.  Now, that never really happened, but N’Dambi did her thing regardless.

We had a rehearsal at Geno’s house.  Madukwu played guitar, Sput was on keys, Braylon Lacy was on bass, Aisha Searight and Carmen Rodgers were singing background.  I got to Geno’s house and there was this cat there lookin’ frail but real funky.  I looked closer and said “Shit!  That’s Bernard Wright.”

“Yeah, this is Bernard.” N’Dambi said, “He play so good, he playin’ tonight.”

We were in awe.  Nobody had seen Bernard in a long time.  I didn’t even know he was living in Texas.  This was a pivotal point in my life.  I was not considering drums as a career until that night.  They let me go from my desk job, and I was making good money playing at Friendship West; was married and had a son, daughter on the way.  Then I started gigging more.  But that N’Dambi gig set it off.  The buzz was in the air, Bugg hipped us to it that Erykah was lookin’ for a new situation.  She wanted to change the band.  I said I’m down, I want it to be us.

That night at the Velvet E – Sarah, I play everywhere.  Everywhere. In front of lots and lots of people.  But that night at the Velvet E was one of the top three I ever played in my life.  Energy wise – I like it when the people are stacked up on each other like knuckles and fists.  Man, it was crazy.  Erykah was in the balcony so you could see her straight forward.  The place was big enough, but not that big.  I was lookin’ at Erykah and it was like the spotlight was shone right on her.  You just couldn’t believe it.  It was a dope show.  Erykah was vibin’ the whole time, real hard.  She came up and did a number.  I can’t remember what she sung but I remember it was one of them tearjerkin’ moments.

After the show, as I was breaking down, Erykah came up to me and said she enjoyed my playing.  I think I want you to play for me, she said, Bugg’s gonna set up something.  I want to hear you again.

I went into the audition nervous because it was my boy sitting next to me.  I got this huge affinity for Peebody – that is my dude.  I knew if I got this gig, Peebody wouldn’t.  That sucked.  (I don’t know what he was feelin’ but that was my thought).  I wanted my man to be on, too!  I did me and she chose me.  Thus began Mama’s Gun/Super Music Industry tutorial.  It was exactly like boot camp.  I’ve never been as tired from a show or rehearsal as when working with Erykah.  Never.  I couldn’t do anything else.  I’d go home to my family and wouldn’t be able to function.  Dad was drained.  It was intense.  There wasn’t really a lot going on, she’s just very meticulous.  Her ears were growing to this new sound she was hearing behind her.  Our ears were being honed – I liken it to the James Brown experience.  They talk about how meticulous he was and how you had to watch.  You couldn’t sneeze, blink, cough, look down or you gonna miss something.  The first three years I played with her, I only hit the open snare maybe three times during an hour/hour and a half set.  Everything was rim shot.  She wanted everything to sound like a sample.

I played with her for ten years.  Five of was just playing drums, and the last five I was musical director.  There was a lot learned, a lot went on.  In that ten year span I was fired once – at church!  Before I went on the first US tour with Erykah, I did a Japanese tour with her for Mama’s Gun. I played on the record and I had done all the shows up to that point.  I let my church job go because we were going to be out for the whole summer.  Erykah had just joined Friendship West, which was cool because we were “one big happy family.”  Well, Badu has this thing that if it’s from New York or the East Coast, it’s validated.  If it’s not from the East Coast – music or person – then it’s not validated until the East Coast says so.  She was heavy in bed with The Roots at that time.  Her and ?uest and James Poyser got this whole brother-sister thing.  At that time, Frankie Knuckles was playing percussion for D’Angelo on the VooDoo tour.  Frankie is Amir’s boy.  They were in Erykah’s ear saying you gotta try my boy; I wanna hear how he sounds playing your set—he plays like Quest! Then without ever hearing him, she decides to go with Frankie Knuckles.  Now here I am at church, go up to talk to her by the altar while she waits to greet Pastor Haynes, and my family is 15 feet away.  Erykah said I gotta talk to you.  I really want to try someone else on drums. Now I just kept the same smile on my face because this is my church home.  She said I love you and everything; it’s just something I’ve got to try out.

How did that work out for her?

It didn’t fare very well toward the end.

When were you un-fired?

After that summer run.  They came home from the US run and went straight to Europe.  The whole tour I was getting updates Yo this cat sucks ass. It was a tumultuous experience because my guys all knew.  It was all the Dallas cats.  Shaun wasn’t on the gig anymore, RC Williams was on now.  Kirk Franklin realized the true power of Shaun Martin.  One day the light bulb really came on for Kirk, and then Shaun had a more stable situation.  But my dudes knew that I was about to get canned.  That fucked with me for a long time.  We’re family!  I dig the business, I get that.  At the end of the day it’s Erykah’s call.  I was put in those shoes later on, but that stung – and my family was standing right there.

Frankie Knuckles is cool.  It took us awhile to get to the cool point.  I wound up on the road with this dude.  Erykah called two days before we were set to leave, wantin’ me to come back and play.  The great part of not being on the road was that it forced me to make my own thing happen here.  When they came off the road, I had things poppin’.  While they were out, something told me to start playing percussion, so I added a small percussion rig to the left side of my drum kit.  Now I’m multi-tasking, sheddin’ on percussion.  Two days before I’m set to finally go back out with Erykah, she calls and says she’s going to let Frank finish this tour run, but will I play percussion?  I laughed and said sure.  That whole time they were out God was preparing me to play percussion on my first US run with Badu.

While we’re out on the road, it was tense.  Frankie created this wall for himself within the family.  Nothing ever really clicked.  He was a cool cat, he just didn’t warm up.  Now that I’m back it was weird because he thought I was trying to take his job.  But that wasn’t the case.  I was called to play drums, then she wanted me on percussion – but that wasn’t a conversation that we had.  As far as perception goes, this dude was back and he was feeling the pressure.  I mean, I’m not Dennis Chambers.  I’m not even Spanky.  But can’t nobody outplay Gino playing Gino.  I’ve got this vibe and this rapport with the band and with Erykah.  We were in Denver and everything just came to a head.  We had this big band meeting and Erykah apologized to me in front of the production staff, band, management and Frank and says “I shoulda never fired you.”

What happened to Frank after that?

He ended the rest of the run.

And he’s fine, he’s with The Roots.

Yeah, he’s on Jimmy Fallon.  He’s straight.  He’s cool.  That was another monumental place for me.  Erykah Badu apologized to me, and she is not an apologizer.  She got butt-naked in front of the JFK monument and didn’t apologize.  It was pretty intense.  It was just God bringing everything full circle.  I had just bought a house right before I was fired.  It was a whole ‘nother level of humility.  I don’t know if I was getting beside myself when I got the Erykah gig that God needed to bring me down a peg.  I felt like I learned my lesson and he raised me back up.

So let’s talk about now.  You are writing your own music now?

I started writing because of all the years of music and the Erykah experience.  I saw that if I ever really want to do anything, I gotta do more than just hit this snare drum.  I gotta write.  I started writing trying to get placements on her records, but I’m a lyricist.  Erykah is definitely her own lyricists – you not writing any lyrics unless it’s your verse on a duet, and then it gotta be approved.  I write the lyrics and the melody that goes with it.  Then I’ll strip my lyrics if I want to present it to another artist to write to and I’ll still have my own lyrics if they need it, so they can add to it or take the whole body of work.  I noticed with everything I wrote, none of it fit her.  I was ten songs in before I realized I was a writer.  I had been concentrating on her but nothing fit her, and yet the songs are still forming.  I didn’t notice.  I was such a robot.  Everything I did was programmed to please Badu – I hope E likes this. I wasn’t trying to have a one track mind; I was playing with other artists and doing my own hustlin’.  Even after the whole firing and everything, I still admired her so much.  Now I have this body of work.

Who does it fit?

I’m actually singing a majority of it.  Some I’m actually in front of the kit while someone else is playing.  It’s a huge culture shock for me.  I host and have sung some of my works before, but not this Gino.  The past five years have been really interesting.  From the time I divorced until now, a lot has gone on.

What has that done to your writing?

I write what I feel.  Most of my perspective is the male that got done dirty.  Usually it’s the woman crying that a man did her wrong but men have that, too.  We don’t hear a lot of those.  It’s either us beggin’ and pleadin’ or we want to see you shake your ass on the dance floor.  Nobody’s really saying ‘no, you didn’t do me right.’ That exists.

You mean there’s a third thought?!

Not saying that my whole relationship existence has been me getting’ done dirty, but I started writing when I needed to voice those things.  I have some feel good, I have some Need Your Love songs, I have some Rock Your Body, some that make you think.  I’m interested to hear it played in front of people to see what they think.

Who’d you pick to play with you for this first round out?  Have many people heard this?

No.  No one has heard this material.  It’s all fresh.  One song has been heard, but people don’t remember it because it went by them so fast at one of the Go Go parties with my band, Ivory Jean.  The sound didn’t really help get the point of the track across, so it flew by.  I could tell no one really heard it.

I got Marcus Roberts on keys, Xavier Jackson, also on keys, Justin LYONS on bass, Jason BELL on guitar, and I hired the Soul Committee last night.  Geno Young is hosting and Jay Clipp is spinnin’.

This is a debut for you in so many ways, even as a familiar presence here on the scene.

I want to stay relevant.  I feel like I get lost in the shuffle.  Out of the whole crew, I’m the emotional one.  A lot of the things that have gone on from back in the day until now, and a lot of the things that could have but either haven’t or stalled isn’t because guys didn’t like how they were playing – it’s because of relationships.  It’s hard to look past your pain to share five feet of space with someone on stage when you don’t like them or they don’t like you or you’ve got into odds.  I’m not talking about ‘you owe me $5’; I’m talking about we’ve known each other our whole lives and somebody has bruised the other.  It’s hard to do.  This has helped me pick myself back up.  I was almost in a depression a couple weeks ago when we went to Baton Rouge with Geno and Shaun.  We were talking at dinner with Taron Lockett, and Shaun asked me the same stuff about the album – he’s got like six tunes with me on the record.  I said man, I’ve been depressed.  Y’all are my friends and I’ve been depressed.  I’ve been sitting in the house with the blinds drawn, contemplating retiring.  I don’t feel needed.  I don’t feel wanted within my musical self.  Sometimes I feel like a joke.  Oh, Gino used to do this, but where is he now?

What was the turning point?  What snapped you out of it?

Nothing but God and deciding not to give up.  I’ve seen a lot of shit, I’ve done a lot of shit.  I’ve done plenty to make me unfavorable.  I’m not the Said Some Things guy.  If I offend you, it’s because I did something.  I’m brash and in your face.  I won’t say nothing, but you will know it was me.  Like it or not.  I was in a dark place.  I think it was when I listened to “Shoulda” – that was it!  Yeah.  I put on the record, went right to “Shoulda” and as soon as it came on I said fuck that, I’m relevant.

You wrote that.

Yes I did.  I’m still me.  I need to do this.  That’s when I said yeah.  It gets hard when I look at stage and I’m looking at my band; I’m looking at Camp Wisdom.  The Gritz is literally Camp Wisdom without me on drums.  That’s hard when you see your family and yet somehow you aren’t included.  Is it me? Do I need to go back in the shed?  What is it?  I’m supportive.  Everything is seasonal, and I’m cool with that.  That does not block out that painful mindset.  I call it the human frailty factor.  It can get a brittle at times.  That’s N’Dambi up there, that’s The Gritz – it’s everybody but me.  Like I said, you just have to move past that and find where your existence is.

Special thanks to Sarah Crisman for conducting this excellent interview with Dallas born and bred musician Geno Young. Also checkout the track “Shoulda” after the jump that is available as a free download today from Geno.

Geno Young was born and bred to be a revolutionary soul artist. That’s how we do in Dallas. Or as our neighbors, Erykah Badu and producer Jah Born like to say “Dirty Always Live like a Soldier.” Yet few truly understand the contributions the Dallas community has made to the music industry at large – from Gospel, R&B, to Soul and Jazz, Dallas cats are playing the game on a different level compared to other urban hubs.

Shoulda by GrownFolksMusic

Geno came up in the anointed halls of Dallas’ Booker T. Washington High School for the Performing and Visual Arts alongside other game-changers like Badu, Roy Hargrove, and Norah Jones. After graduating from Arts Magnet, Geno followed in the footsteps of Donny Hathaway to study music at Howard University ‘round about the same time fellow Texan, Chris Dave was hitting the boom clacks and books. After school, Geno toured the world as musical director, arranger, and producer for Erykah Badu. He wrote and produced the hit songs “Times a Wastin’” and “Orange Moon” on her 2001 release- Mama’s Gun. His 2004 solo debut, The Ghetto Symphony garnered attention for him around the world and his recent sophomore effort, Ear Hustler has renewed a frenzy of fans ready to emerge from the underground and shout from the roofs what “Shoulda” been known all along – Geno Young is one hustler you can trust your ears to entirely.

(L to R): Gino “Lockjohnson” Inglehart, Geno Young, Deonis Cook, and Shaun Martin. Photo Credit: Jirard Foto

Sarah Crisman sat down with Geno in Downtown Dallas to get to the heart of this Deep Soul Revolution brewing in their shared hometown to explore where it started and what it will take to make the world(and the neighbors) stand up and take notice.

Let’s explore your Arts Magnet years to give everyone a more extensive look at why we keep using words like “revolution” when we talk about the Dallas Soul community (lest our message be construed as delusions of grandeur and hometown pride). Looking back at your time at Arts Magnet, what element had the greatest impact on you?

I look at Arts Magnet as a breeding ground for a lot. It was such an open environment; it really fostered the creative aspect and collaboration. That sounds obvious, like a school like Booker T should offer that, but you see these teachers that a more like professors, pushing you to experiment and do your own thing. Always encouraging you to put a small group together, get a combo together, or suggesting “why don’t you write a song?” When you are in an environment like that at 14 you can’t help but develop a sense of musical freedom, artistically. I think that’s why the bond is so tight amongst the musicians –look at my relationships with Shaun Martin, RC Williams, and Robert “Sput” Searight. We all ended up working together. I think it was the professors. Everyone there could do everything. Literally, go in and see Erykah there and know she was just Apples from the dance department, but also knowing she did music and it wasn’t in any way weird; it wasn’t a surprise. You do what you do. Teachers would say ‘oh, yeah, she sings, too. Come sing for her.” A music teacher or a theater teacher would come to a student
and say ‘you really have a knack, you have charisma, and I want you to be in the play this semester/the mime troupe/improv troupe.’ This fostered a camaraderie that radiates in us now.

You mention your Grammy-nominated peers, Shaun Martin, RC Williams, and Sput. Who else were you coming up with in school?

I was in the Lab Singers with Myron Butler – he was the pianist for the Lab Singers. Sput was the drummer in our small group, and Braylon Lacy. I was playing and arranging and that was how we all got introduced to each other, really. I remember knowing Sput was a drummer, then going from my classical piano lesson into a practice room and hearing him play piano and I was like “what the hell? He plays like that, too?” Here’s Sput sitting in a jazz vocalist’s class with Myron Butler one minute and then writing all these Gospel tunes and pop tunes outside of that. When we got there Erykah and Roy were seniors, so I saw Roy go off with Dizzy Gillespie when I was a freshman.

Did it occur to you that not every school is swarming with talent like that?

It did. And you know what is not talked about is the influence of Arts Jazz — Booker T had its own festival with major players like Dizzy Gillespie and George Benson came to the Meyerson. It was a serious, weekly festival that rivaled the IAJE (International Association of Jazz Education) – and it was right here in Dallas! Artists like Maynard Ferguson would come and do clinics for the public. People traveled in and they had concerts every night at the Meyerson. It was that kind of stuff – when Roy was playing with Dizzy Gillespie and then Dizzy was here and now they’re taking him away.

That would be difficult to take for granted. I know, personally speaking, having lived in Dallas for 18 years and in the music industry for five years, it is hard to remember at times that it’s not like this everywhere. You talk about your classmate, Roy Hargrove, being “taken away” by Dizzy Gillespie –did you appreciate at that point the cultural impact that you yourself could have?

Not then, I think that was later. I knew the music we were doing was on a different level in all aspects. In classical or choral music, you knew those singers were good. Look at Myron Butler – he’s a Grammy Nominated Gospel recording artist. I knew that no matter what we did we had this foundation. I don’t think I appreciated it until later, until I got to college and realized it was the same stuff we did in high school. Not in the snooty way, but in the “I actually am prepared” way. These teachers were dope in the environment of letting us create while having a theory class, balancing that with academics, and having a show – it didn’t faze me. It’s just what you do.

You were at Howard for college, how did you find the artistic approach and the pool of talent to be different from Dallas?

The funny thing was that it was different, the people there were monstrously talented but it wasn’t thesame – how do I say this?

Soul?

Exactly! It wasn’t the same soul. Interestingly, the people that did have the same soul were Texans. When I got there, Chris Dave was there. He went to the performing arts school in Houston and here he was the baddest drummer in the world, and I’m from Texas and I went to a performing arts school in Dallas. So I got the sense that there was something going on with Texas.

What brought you back to Dallas?

I came back to Dallas after I graduated– Howard was good, I was in a good place there, but I came back to work at Friendship West Baptist Church as the Assistant Director of Music and eventually became the Director of Music there. Shaun Martin was the organist there and just getting into North Texas, and we had grown up together. Initially I was going to Grad school in Southern Cal or go to New York, but I decided that was a cool gig. So I came back home and within six months I was singing with Erykah. That’s how quickly it turned around.

Which brings us to my next question! You began singing with Badu and worked on Mama’s Gun with the crew you had gone to school with — what was it like to have that sort of reunion? How were you different and what were you learning from each other that you had perhaps grown into during those years apart?

I think the only difference was that I had started singing background first, me and N’Dambi. Do you know Madukwu Chinwah? He’s one of the fore fathers here, of Nigerian descent. He produced “Rim Shot” and “Certainly” on Baduism – he’s a guy from Oak Cliff. The story goes that when I came home, Erykah called Chinwah and asked if she should take “Junebugg” on the road with her and he said she would be dumb if she didn’t.One night while Erykah was still writing Mama’s Gun, she was singing at the Velvet Elvis uptown, andN’Dambi was performing off her first album. Erykah came to me and asked me to put a band together to vibe with her that night. I grabbed Gino “Lockjohnson” Inglehart, Braylon, Sput on percussion, Shaun, RC, and myself. After that night she walked off stage and sang a demo version of “Green Eyes.” She came to the edge of the stage and said ‘put a band together for me.’ It was magical. I think the only thing that made me different was that she put me in an organizer role. We were still boys. Even though I hadn’t played with everybody in awhile (except for Shaun and Gino at church), hadn’t played with RC or Braylon since I graduated, but they were the first people I called – The Dallas crew. So we put a band
together and that’s how we lead up to Mama’s Gun. Yes I was in a new role as Musical Director, but I was just going with what I knew – the guys here.

It’s like what you were saying about Howard: Arts Magnet prepared you for that moment. It wasn’t something to be grasped, it was just ‘call up the guys’ and do what you do.

I’m giving you the real scoop. She said ‘put a band together and I’ll come here you guys play.’ I put together two of everything. Because I had been on the road long enough to know: two bass players (Braylon and Keith Taylor); two keyboardists (myself and Shaun); two drummers (Gino and Peebody); and a horn section (Jason Davis and Leon Devers). She came to rehearsal and sat for ten minutes while we played a couple songs, she switched out drummers and bass players, and was like ‘cool.’ Didn’t say anything else, left, and after that we were the band!

Photo Credit: Bill Ellison

You mentioned your days spent touring — how do you see Dallas artists handling themselves differently out in the music industry at large? How are y’all approaching things different?

I don’t know if it’s some level of Performing Arts connection, some kind of schooling there, maybe? There is a lot of professionalism. There is a lot of hard work. For anybody who doubts it, I have never worked as hard with anybody as I worked with Erykah. Nor seen anybody work as hard as her – her work ethic is –

They Sleep, We Grind.

Really. It’s phenomenal. It’s very meticulous. Touring with her when we did taught us a lot. I think the Dallas folks just have a level of professionalism and I’m not really sure where it comes from. Maybe it’s a combination of Booker T and we could also attribute the church with a lot of that. People look at that band and other bands in Dallas like The Grits, Ivory Jean, even with Deonis. People look at that and say ‘oh my god, why is it so tight?’ Because Sput and Deonis have been playing together forever with God’s Property; and Braylon and Shaun and all of us have been playing together for 20 years.

You talk about professionalism and the church connection, perhaps there is a high level of accountability there? Not to mention that it’s probably pretty hard to bullshit someone you’ve known since you were a kid. Even working on the level that y’all have achieved, there’s always someone like that around to keep you in line.

That’s very true. They know you better than that.

What did Erykah teach you about breaking out on your own as a singer/songwriter?

I credit her with a lot. One: the work ethic. When I started working with her and we put the Dallas band together, I felt like that was the point when she became the most free. With Baduism she was still growing and the band around her was still growing. They weren’t from Dallas so I don’t think they felt her like Dallas folks did. I learned how to conduct the business and how she had her company set up. I look back and going on the road in ’98 and how she had her company set up, the way in which we were paid, the way in which we were handled. There were a lot of first class things going on and she hadn’t been in the game long. We were always treated well. We didn’t know it at the time because she kept us so tight, but she encouraged a lot of creativity. We thought it was creativity under the umbrella of the Badu thing. But really, in essence, she meticulously added a piece here, a piece there, to grow things and do an album. I learned a lot about how to be an artist, really.

You wrote and produced “Orange Moon” and “Times a Wastin” on Mama’s Gun– that seems to be a
good example of her encouraging your creativity.

True. They both happened very organically. We all had writer’s credit on that: myself, Shaun, Braylon, Erykah (of course) because it happened so organically. She said ‘okay, guys, I have an idea and it sounds like this: I’m an orange moon.’ Shaun and I looked at each other and said ‘ok, key of E Flat.’ It really happened that organically and we developed it over time and gave it a mood and she did her Erykah thing on it and it was like magic. “Times a Wastin” is actually an interesting song because she had the idea to do the bridge – Oh baby we need to smile. She had that idea and the basic groove of that song came from a session we did at Camp Wisdom with Guru. She brought Guru down to Dallas to work on the song that she did on his Streetsoul Vol. 3 – the “Plenty” song. We just sat in a room with Guru for two days. You asked how we learned stuff. She would sit there with a mic, Guru would sit there with a pen and pad. She would dictate grooves or tell us a drum pattern or hear a bass line. We sat there and created for two days. We’d just switch grooves, or it would be “Shaun do this,” “Junebugg do that.” From those two days of music Guru and Erykah picked an eight-bar loop. We came away with “Times a Wastin,” a song for him, and came away being even tighter and knowing how to create in a room together.

Since your work with Erykah, you broke out on your own to create two cult-favorite albums, 2004’s
Ghetto Symphony and 2010’s Ear Hustler. How have your views on this revolution changed at this
point? Have you felt frustration?

Definitely. Definitely. We still haven’t told the story. I think that what separates us from – I don’t care who it is – what separates us from the cats in Philly (or no matter where they are) is the story: the high school camaraderie and growing up in church; Shaun, RC, and I living in the same neighborhood; my parents going to college with Sput’s parents. These connections are the story that hasn’t been told. Look at Roy Hargrove – no, take it back further – look at Edie Brickell and the New Bohemians, Roy
Hargrove, Norah Jones, Erykah Badu, Kirk Franklin, N’Dambi. Seriously, N’Dambi is the start of a lot of what goes on in Indie soul music. Period. She was first. Before Eric Roberson, it was N’Dambi out of her house in Oak Cliff and along with her manager, Odis Johnson, laid the foundation of how to do it. How to do it independently, how to get overseas with no Twitter, no social networking. When people say the Indie Soul scene is on the East Coast. Whenever these artists dropped from Dallas the game changed. Kirk changed Gospel music. Erykah changed Soul music. There were no young jazz lions before Roy. Norah was a totally different feel of music that won Grammy’s and crossed over to mainstream and nobody ever makes that high school connection. You don’t even have to deal with the high school, just look at God’s Property. That was my class at Booker T and they changed Gospel. I don’t want to hear crap about those other cities — I want to hear Dallas, specifically.

Sarah Crisman is a writer, talk show host, and music advocate living in Dallas, Texas on purpose.

Check out Nakia Henry’s Love Letter (He Wants To Win)

Lyrics by Erykah Badu and Nakia Henry

http://nakiahenry.bandcamp.com/track/love-letter-he-wants-me-to-win

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