The Transformative And Healing Powers Of Abdullah Ibrahim

December is my least favorite month of the year. It's a combination of several obvious factors; the way the winter light washes out the landscape to a dreary monochrome, the unending rainy days and of course, darkness by 5 p.m. But more so, it's the compulsory Christmas jollity that affects my disposition. Admittedly Y2K was kind of exciting, what with the possibility of the world ending and all that, but overall the holiday season is largely a major bringdown. On rare occasions, I might find comfort in a steaming cup of joe at some seaside cafe overlooking the Pacific, but it's not often. It speaks volumes when a force of nature as powerful as the sea can fail to hearten me. But then, December is like that for me.

One year, the 12th calendar month stands out in my mind as a particularly difficult one. Somewhere between my stint at the wonderful KJAZ and my last commercial gasp at KKCY 'The City,' I temporarily moved to London to pursue a budding romance and a vain attempt at making inroads to a working position with the IBC. Despite some sage advice from the pre-M.B.E. Johnny Walker* (regarding IBC, not the romance!), the trans-Atlantic jump was not to be, but that's another story. Ditto for the romance.

Now as you probably know, London is an expensive city and contrary to popular belief, jazz DJ's are not the highest paid personalities in the radio food chain. My money disappeared faster than an unchained bicycle at a parking meter. Fourteen months into my folly, my pockets were beginning to feel the strain. Returning from a short trip across the Channel, I attempted to economize by briefly sharing a cold water flat with the most eccentric of Englishmen, a character right out of Central Casting who shall remain anonymous. Weather aside, it was undoubtedly the most miserable December in memory. Recommended to me by a mutual friend as "an interesting guy who could use some help," I interpreted this to mean that he could use a bit of extra cash in return for a place for me to temporarily hang my hat. Turns out that money was not the sort of help he needed. Independent wealth notwithstanding, the "interesting guy" slummed in candlelit semi-squalor, foregoing electric lights and central heating as 'too bourgeois,' although he did own a quality hi-fi system and always had some mighty good French Burgundies. Dank, dreary and insufferably low rent, it was one step short of a squat. With perpetual cigarette glued to one hand and a wine glass to the other, he spat contempt at every turn for all things, save modern jazz through rotting teeth and raised nicotine stained fingers. I felt as though I had accidentally time traveled back to Dicken's London Town mid-nineteenth century as I threw another twig onto the fire, hoping to stave off pneumonia. The saving grace of my two week residency, despite his kindness in sharing his digs (and wine) with me was my recent acquisition of Abdullah Ibrahim's 'Nisa:African Violets' while on the mainland. Recorded in 1978, 'Nisa:African Violets' stands as an exquisite example of Ibrahim's distinctively personal and soulful brand of composition and piano. A solo effort, this unusual studio LP rarely even shows up in official discographies yet it is easily one of his most exceptional performances.

Ibrahim's gift is to fuse the ancestral streams of traditional African and popular musics with pure American jazz, resulting in a unique synthesis of Cape Town marabi, kwela and shabeen, colored with overlapping shades of Thelonious Monk and Duke Ellington. 'Nisa' beautifully showcases more the Monk side of that equation, and much like Sphere's solo work, Abdullah's playing reveals fluid nuance and subtlety with every listen. Deeply spiritual, Ibrahim uses his music as a constructive tool of positive energy and rebirth. His South African roots under apartheid however will never allow him nor his listeners to forget the long suffering of his people. This is what made 'Nisa:African Violets' such compelling listening for me during my stay with 'Ebenezer,' as it still does today. The rich, complex and poignant beauty of Abdullah's playing, particularly in that moment of time, accurately captured the inner ache that I felt; trapped in the midst of a failed dream some 5,000 miles from home, out of luck, out of love and crashing in a cold, dark and drafty Camden walk-up, my hopes washed out like the December skies. Listening to 'Nisa:African Violets,' I found fleeting solace in the healing power of Abdullah Ibrahim's emotionally expressive music and was spiritually transformed, if only for a moment. But then, Ibrahim's music is like that for me.

1.) Nisa, The Woman
2.) Kariba Blue
3.) The Touch Of Your Lips
4.) Matsidiso
5.) New York City
6.) The Wedding, Cape Town

To download 'Nisa:African Violets,' click here.

For more information on Abdullah Ibrahim, visit his official site.

*Walker had previously worked for Radio Caroline and KSAN. I knew him from the latter.