S.O.L.A.R. - 1983 - Faith for My Mind

S.O.L.A.R.

1983

Faith for My Mind

01. Faith For My Mind

02. It's A New Day

03. To The Most Holy Place

04. Walk Together Children

05. Living For The Most High

06. Eat I-Tal Food

07. Rejoice

08. Vanity

09. Rainbow

Acoustic Bass, Vocals – Mamaniji Azanyah

Congas, Percussion, Vocals – Claudius Fabien

Drums [Trap] – Jerome Crichton

Flute, Soprano Saxophone, Vocals – Emanuel Ibrahim

Piano, Lead Vocals – Rukiya Imani

Piano, Vocals – Kariba Jendayi

Steel Drums – Ajamu

iolin, Vocals – Humaa Lewis

Vocals – Ariyo, Atiya Damali Hollis

The Private-Press Spiritual Jazz Miracle That Took 30 Years to Get the Standing Ovation It Deserved

Let’s be brutally honest: in 1983, if you told the average jazz head that one of the most forward-thinking, soul-elevating albums of the decade was coming out of Atlanta on a label called Path Of Light Records, played by a collective with an acronym longer than a Rastafarian prayer (Source Of Life Arkestral Revelation) , they would have laughed so hard they’d spill their imported espresso. And yet here we are in 2025, where original copies change hands for the price of a used Honda Civic, and French/Japanese reissues sell out faster than limited-edition sneakers. Faith for My Mind by S.O.L.A.R. (Source Of Life Arkestral Revelation – try fitting that on a T-shirt) is the ultimate “told you so” record: a blissful, genre-melting spiritual jazz masterpiece that was ignored in its day, slept on for decades, and now gets name-checked every time someone wants to sound deep on a neo-soul playlist.

This is Earth, Wind & Fire after ten years of yoga retreats, Pharoah Sanders with a side of Bob Marley, Lonnie Liston Smith smoking the good stuff with a gospel choir in the background. It’s reggae rhythms holding hands with Coltrane sheets of sound while a string section quotes Bach and nobody gets jealous. And the best part? It’s so earnestly positive you half expect the vinyl to come with a free hug.

The Collective Behind the Acronym: A Bunch of Beautiful Weirdos Who Took the Name Seriously

S.O.L.A.R. started in New Orleans in 1980 when two cosmic forces collided:

Rukiya Imani (piano, lead vocals, primary composer, spiritual general) – the heartbeat and the voice. She sings like she’s channeling sunlight directly into your third eye.

Mamaniji Azanyah (bass, vocals, co-leader) – the groove anchor who later released his own killer private-press spiritual jazz trilogy under the name Azanyah (look up The One if you want your mind properly blown).

They moved the whole arkestral revelation to Atlanta in 1981, rounded up a crew of like-minded souls, pressed a tiny run of records on their own dime in 1983, played a handful of conscious gigs, disbanded in late ’84 (because rent is the ultimate buzzkill), did occasional reunion charity shows in ’86, ’90, and 2011, and then basically disappeared into legend. No major-label drama, no scandals, no reality TV – just pure musical ministry. In an era when jazz was either chasing fusion dollars or free-jazz chaos, these cats said “Nah, we’re gonna make music to realign your chakras and still make your head nod.”

The Musicians: Atlanta’s Secret Avengers of Higher Consciousness

Exact personnel credits are as scarce as original pressings (private-press life), but from liner notes, live recollections, and obsessive Discogs detective work, the core revelation included:

Rukiya Imani – acoustic piano, Fender Rhodes, lead vocals

Mamaniji Azanyah – electric & upright bass, vocals

Flute & soprano saxophone (the ethereal top lines that make you levitate)

A full percussion battalion (African drums, reggae skanks, Latin tinged congas – basically everything that isn’t a drum kit)

Guitar (subtle but crucial chordal colors)

Strings (yes, actual classical-trained violin/cello adding European grandeur to the Afrocentric stew)

Multiple female backing vocalists (including Atiya Damali Hollis and Kariba Jendayi on some compositions) who sound like a heavenly choir that wandered in from the Fifth Dimension’s rehearsal

Recorded raw and live-feeling in Atlanta, probably in somebody’s living room that doubled as a temple. The sound is warm, slightly lo-fi in that perfect private-press way – no sterile ’80s digital gloss here.

The Album: Nine Tracks of Pure Ascended-Master Energy (Warning: May Cause Spontaneous Smiling)

Clocking in at a tight 42 minutes, every track is a mini-sermon set to the grooviest soundtrack imaginable.

Faith For My Mind (6:29) – The title mantra. Floating soprano sax, Rhodes chords from heaven, Rukiya testifying like she’s personally seen the light. Instant classic.

It’s A New Day (7:31) – Mid-tempo reggae-jazz fusion that makes you want to quit your job and move to a commune.

To The Most Holy Place (3:35) – Short, meditative, pure incense and candles vibes.

Walk Together Children (5:49) – Gospel reharmonized for the New Age. You’ll be holding hands with strangers by the end.

Living For The Most High (5:12) – Mamaniji takes the lead; deep, dubby bass that could anchor a spaceship.

Eat I-Tal Food (2:54) – Two-minute Rastafarian public service announcement that somehow grooves harder than most bands’ entire careers.

Rejoice (5:00) – Uplifting horns, choir, handclaps – basically musical Prozac.

Vanity (3:32) – A gentle reminder that all is vanity… delivered over the funkiest bass line on the record.

Rainbow (3:47) – Closes with shimmering strings and a promise that yes, there’s a rainbow after the storm. Fade out smiling.

The whole thing flows like one long guided meditation with killer solos.

The Private-Press Prophecy That Neo-Soul Stole From (And Never Sent a Thank-You Note)

In 1983 this sold maybe a few hundred copies to yoga studios and health-food-store bulletin boards. Radio? Zero. Charts? Laughable. Meanwhile Michael Jackson was moonwalking and Prince was riding a motorcycle in a trench coat.

Fast-forward to the 2000s: crate-diggers lose their minds, Japanese collectors start bidding wars, Superfly Records drops a gorgeous limited reissue in 2013 (instantly flips for triple the price), and suddenly every “conscious” producer from Madlib to Thundercat is quoting it. It’s routinely called one of the direct precursors to neo-soul – the bridge between Pharoah/EWF/Lonnie Liston and Erykah/Jill Scott/D’Angelo. Gilles Peterson plays it, Moodymann samples the vibes, Bandcamp reissue culture worships it.

Today an original is a four-figure flex. The reissues keep coming because the message never gets old: eat clean, love everybody, praise the Most High, and lay down some ridiculous soprano sax while you’re at it.

Faith for My Mind is proof that sometimes the universe hides its best music in the humblest sleeves, waits thirty years, then drops it on the world like “Remember me?” S.O.L.A.R. didn’t conquer the industry – they transcended it. And honestly? That feels like the bigger win.

Put it on, light some incense (or don’t – we’re not judging), and let the revelation begin. Your third eye will thank you. Namaste, jazz fam.