Infinite Spirit Music - 1980 - Live Without Fear

Infinite Spirit Music

1980

Live Without Fear

01. Children's Song 3:44

02. Ritual 4:31

03. Bright Tune 13:24

05. Rasta 13:50

04. Father Spirit, Mother Love 5:16

06. Soul Flower 0:57

07. Live Without Fear 10:51

Bass – Mchaka Uba

Congas – Ibo

Congas, Vocals – Kahil El'Zabar

Percussion – Aye Aton

Piano – Soji Adebayo

Saxophone – 'Light' Henry Huff

Vocals – Ka T' Etta Aton

Soto Studios, Evanston Il.

May the Creator Bless Clifford Davis.

Recorded May 31 1979.

In-Depth Look at Infinite Spirit Music's Live Without Fear (1980)

Infinite Spirit Music was a short-lived but profoundly influential Chicago-based ensemble rooted in the avant-garde and spiritual jazz traditions of the late 1970s. Formed by a collective of young, like-minded musicians inspired by the Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians (AACM), the group embodied the era's fusion of African diasporic rhythms, Afrocentric philosophy, and improvisational freedom. Their sole album, Live Without Fear, self-released in 1980 on pianist Soji Adebayo's Ancient Afrika label, captures a single, sun-soaked recording session that distilled their communal ethos into a timeless artifact of "peaceful spiritual jazz vibes." Recorded in just one day on May 31, 1979, at Soto Sound Studio in Evanston, Illinois, the album emerged from a spontaneous drive north from Chicago in three cars, fueled by "a day that smelled good and spoke all day sunshine." Clocking in at over 52 minutes—unusually long for a vinyl LP at the time—it unfolds across seven tracks that blend hypnotic grooves, soaring solos, and choral invocations, evoking the cosmic spirit of Sun Ra while grounding itself in earthly joy and resilience.

The album's title track, a 10-minute centerpiece, exemplifies this: it opens with a hypnotic bassline and conga pulse, building to ecstatic soprano sax flights and piano flourishes, before dissolving into unrestrained percussion. Shorter pieces like the 57-second "Soul Flower" offer breath-like interludes, while extended jams such as "Rasta" (13:50) infuse reggae rhythms with avant-garde shifts, and "Bright Tune" (13:24) layers peppy lounge-jazz arrangements over constantly evolving polyrhythms. Vocals—both male chants and female harmonies—add a ritualistic layer, turning the music into a communal prayer for unity amid material struggles. As leader Soji Ade reflected in 2018: "To 'Live Without Fear' means to live in material reality with faith… Peace on you!" The result is not abrasive experimentation but a "humble purity" that prioritizes emotional flow over technical flash, making it accessible yet deeply immersive.

Brief Notes on the Musicians Involved

The septet drew from Chicago's vibrant AACM scene, where collaboration was paramount. Many members were in their early 20s, bonded by shared aspirations for music as spiritual and community uplift. Only two remain active today; the others have passed or retired, underscoring the album's poignant snapshot of fleeting vitality. Here's a concise overview:

Soji Ade (aka Soji Adebayo)Piano, keyboards, leaderNigerian-born visionary who founded the group and label; emphasized Afrocentric spirituality. Released solo album Asase Yaa (2008); now performs with Sura Dupart and the Side Pocket Experience, focusing on community dance events.Kahil El’ZabarCongas, vocalsAACM cornerstone; prolific collaborator with David Murray, Pharoah Sanders, Archie Shepp, and his Ethnic Heritage Ensemble (still active). Former AACM chair; embodies the group's rhythmic heartbeat."Light" Henry HuffTenor & soprano saxProvided soaring, soulful leads; his solos evoke Coltrane-esque introspection. Limited discography beyond this; passed away post-recording.Mchaka UbaBassAnchored the earthy grooves; contributed to the album's bottom-up build. Retired from active performance.Ka T’ Etta AtonVocalsDelivered ethereal female harmonies, adding a nurturing, maternal warmth to tracks like "Father Spirit, Mother Love." Fate unclear; likely retired.Aye AtonPercussionEnhanced the polyrhythmic layers; tied to Chicago's free-jazz percussion tradition. Passed away.IboCongasSupported El’Zabar's rhythms; focused on indigenous influences. Retired or passed.

These players weren't household names, but their synergy—forged through late-night hangs discussing "spirituality and connecting that lifeforce to the music"—created something transcendent.

Why It's an Important Album

Live Without Fear stands as a vital document of late-1970s Chicago jazz, bridging the AACM's experimental legacy with the soulful accessibility of contemporaries like Oneness of Juju or The Pyramids. Its importance lies in several layers:

Cultural and Philosophical Depth: Emerging amid post-Civil Rights era introspection, the album channels Afrocentrism and spiritual resilience as antidotes to fear—personal, societal, and systemic. Tracks like "Father Spirit, Mother Love" chant invocations of ancestral balance, while "Rasta" nods to global Black liberation movements. As El’Zabar noted, it was about "lifting the spirit... not to be afraid, to go for what you believe in." This made it a beacon for hippie and Afrocentric communities, prioritizing "pure art" over commercial trends.

Musical Innovation: It expands jazz's roots by integrating vocals, extended percussion solos, and genre-blends (reggae, lounge, ritual chants) without alienating listeners. Unlike denser AACM works, its "spare, earthy approach" flows with joy, influencing the "spiritual jazz" revival. Critics hail it as a "bold expression of spiritual jazz, indigenous rhythms, and thoughtful Afrocentrism," every note "touched by the spirit of Sun Ra."

Rarity and Rediscovery: Privately pressed with minimal distribution (fewer than 500 copies estimated), originals fetch $1,000+ today, cementing its "holy grail" status. This obscurity amplified its mystique, turning it into a touchstone for crate-diggers and archivists.

In essence, it's important because it humanizes the avant-garde: proof that profound innovation can emerge from communal faith, not isolation.

Legacy 45 Years Later (2025)

By December 2025—marking 45 years since release—Live Without Fear endures as a rediscovered gem, its reissue by Jazzman Records' Holy Grail Series (#27) in 2019 sparking a quiet renaissance. Remastered at 45 RPM for superior sound (with liner notes from archivist Steven Emmerman), it's now globally accessible via streaming, Bandcamp, and high-res downloads (e.g., 24/96 FLAC), fulfilling Ade and El’Zabar's wish to "reveal their message of love and spiritual unity worldwide." High-fidelity editions, including Japanese paper-sleeve CDs and limited 2LP sets (1,000 copies), keep it in print, while full-album YouTube rips (e.g., from 2012) have amassed millions of views, introducing it to new generations.

Its legacy ripples through modern spiritual jazz: echoes in Makaya McCraven's beat-tape excavations, Nubya Garcia's rhythmic explorations, and labels like Gondwana or Impulse!'s archival pushes. El’Zabar's ongoing Ethnic Heritage Ensemble tours keep the flame alive, often nodding to this early work. On platforms like X (formerly Twitter), it's name-checked in 2025 listening threads alongside Sun Ra and Abbey Rader, signaling its integration into jazz canon. Yet, its true power remains anti-commercial: a reminder, in an algorithm-driven era, that music made "to communicate peace and good feelings" can outlast hype. As Bandcamp's 2020 feature put it, it's "more than" a reissue—it's a living testament to uncompromised vision, inspiring today's artists to embrace vulnerability and collective spirit. In 2025, amid global unrest, its call to "live without fear" feels more urgent than ever.

Fifteen years on, the series remains a gold standard for ethical reissues—paying artists royalties, involving them in notes, and avoiding exploitative "quick flips." It's fueled podcasts like Digging and playlists on Spotify's "Spiritual Jazz" canon, introducing these sounds to younger acts like Ezra Collective or Nubya Garcia. Amid vinyl's resurgence, Holy Grail drops still sell out instantly, proving that unearthing the obscure sustains the soul of the genre. As Short puts it, it's about "shining new light on music that was taken away." If you're diving in, start with #27—it's a perfect entry to the series' radiant ethos.