Spirits Rejoice - 1977 - African Spaces

Spirits Rejoice

1977

African Spaces

01. Joy 4:22

02. Standing Here Alone 4:06

03. Savage Dance & African Spaces 8:58

04. Mulberry Funk 2:25

05. Minute Song 4:48

06. Sugar Pie 2:45

07. Makes Me Wonder Why 3:45

08. Electric Chicken 3:33

Drums, Percussion – Gilbert Mathews

Bass, Percussion – Sipho Gumede

ectric Guitar – Russell Herman

Electric Piano, Piano, Organ, Vibraphone – Mervyn Africa

Tenor Saxophone, Soprano Saxophone – Duke Makasi

Trombone, Trumpet – Temba Mehlomakulu

Trumpet – George Tyefumani

Vocals – Felicia Marian* (tracks: B3), Russell Herman (tracks: A2, B4)

Spirits Rejoice drew together some of South Africa's most abundantly talented and forward-thinking jazz players and created a complex and challenging jazz fusion that shifted the terms of South Africa's engagement with jazz towards new music being made by pioneers such as Chick Corea, Weather Report, John McLaughlin, Pat Metheny and others. 'African Spaces', their debut recording, is one of the key documents in the South African jazz canon. Emerging in the aftermath of the 1976 Soweto uprising, and taking its place alongside the crucial mid-1970s music of Malombo, Abdullah Ibrahim, and Batsumi, it is a defining but unsung musical statement of its era.

At a distance of more than forty years, the radicalism and significance of African Spaces can be seen more clearly. Ambitious, uncompromising, and resolutely progressive, it represents a unique high-water mark in South Africa’s long musical engagement with the newest developments in American jazz – a response to the cosmic call of Return To Forever, and an answer to Miles’ On the Corner.

Spirits Rejoice drew together some of South Africa’s most abundantly talented and forward-thinking jazz players and created a complex and challenging jazz fusion that shifted the terms of South Africa’s engagement with jazz towards new music being made by pioneers such as Chick Corea, Weather Report, John McLaughlin, Pat Metheny and others.

African Spaces, their debut recording, is one of the key documents in the South African jazz canon. Emerging in the aftermath of the 1976 Soweto uprising, and taking its place alongside the crucial mid-1970s music of Malombo, Abdullah Ibrahim, and Batsumi, it is a defining but unsung musical statement of its era.

A soulful set of fusion from the South African scene of the 70s – a record that's a lot more electric overall than some of the others we know from the time – served up by a youthful group that's brimming over with power! The core of the set is awash in electric bass, guitar, and keyboard lines – the latter played by Mervyn Africa with a great mix of rhythmic currents and more spacious modes – and the set features some especially nice tenor and soprano sax lines from Duke Makasi, who soars next to two other trumpets in the frontline, in a way that makes the whole record sparkle with a lot of joy! The rhythms change up in all these wonderful ways – and the record almost has a James Mason vibe at times, especially on the cuts that bring in vocals by Felicia Marian or Russell Herman. And like James Mason, there's a wonderful blend here of electric jazz and soul – all infused with a very positive spirit

It wasn’t released until the band’s management took it to WEA, and came out on the Atlantic label in 1977. After that, another enthusiastic supporter, musician Dave Marks – then running the Market Café – worked hard to find ways of securing some radio play.

Nevertheless, none of the Spirits Rejoice survivors Gooding interviews feels the album found adequate space for effective promotion on a largely pop oriented landscape, even though the band secured a ‘Jazz Band of the Year’ title.

Heard today, though, the beauty and challenge of the sound stands out. The poppier tracks, which utilise the voices of Herman and Joy’s Felicia Marion, are still underlaid by an intricate mesh of band work that is far from three-chord formula playing; the lyrics of Makes Me Wonder Why are a clear political challenge.

As with so many of those 1970s releases, Gumede’s stature as a bassist who could combine subtle complexity and rock steady walk, absolutely shines. There’s adventurous composing on both Herman and Africa’s Savage Dance and African Spaces, and Makasi’s more deceptively melodic Minute Song and an irresistible rhythm groove on Joy. Makasi and Tjefumani make no intellectual compromises in their playing whatever the ostensible character of the tune. For fans of any of these artists, it’s a must-have addition to the collection.

None of them is adequately remembered in either the media or the scholarly record. But the lack of archive for Herman’s work is perhaps the most tragic. Born in District Six in 1953, he worked not only with Spirits Rejoice but with other experimental jazz groups of the era including Oswietie and Estudio. When he and drummer Brian Abrahams found conditions in South Africa too intolerable, they left for the UK in the early 1980s.

There, Herman continued playing and composing. He worked in the groups District Six (with Abrahams) and Kintone (with another SA exile, tenorist Frank Williams), and can also be heard on Jonas Gwangwa’s London-recorded Flowers of the Nation, Winston Mankunku’s Jika and flautist Deepak Ram’s Flute for Thought. As a composer, he contributed to multiple albums. Gorgeous compositions South Africans may not know include Sivela Kude on the District Six album Akuzwakale (whose music has no trace online) and Freedom Song on Kintone’s Going Home 

Herman also did impressive work as a producer. He worked on three of Mseleku’s albums: Celebration, Meditations and Timelessness and was also another rock of friendship and support when the pianist was in London. Additionally he was part of the Melt 2000 production team for Moses Molelekwa’s Genes and Spirits and Vusi Khumalo’s Follow Your Dream.

Herman died tragically after a heart attack in 1998. He was only 44.

It’s unjust that an artist who made such a significant contribution to South African music here and overseas is so little remembered in any accessible record. But it’s not unusual. Once more, the history that Google presents when we search is massively incomplete – and yet it’s what South African youngsters doing research often mistakenly believe comprises all the knowledge in the world. It’s time we started writing more of our own.