Home Is Where The Music Is...

When I was a teen, I was always intrigued by the jazz section in record stores, but at the same time, I was intimidated by it. I didn’t know where to start, and it felt impenetrable. The genre is expansive, and unlike the rock & roll section where I was digging to find obscure 60s psych albums, the jazz section was where the older dudes would congregate. Was I even allowed back there in what felt like a gentlemen’s club?  

Fast forward a couple decades later when living in London I was in a pub enjoying a pint with my English colleagues and the inevitable exhausting anti-American banter would eventually chime in. I was put on the spot by a fellow who asked in his plumy, private school English accent, “tell me one thing of importance America has given the world?” Of course, being surrounded by pompous English laughter and arrogance, I felt belittled and was then subjected to hearing about all the “amazing” things the English have given the world. You see, when your once powerful empire is no longer significant, their public reminisce on past glories and elevate their culture as being far superior to anything from their young American cousins. What was never discussed, however, were the horrific things the English did as they conquered and colonized far away lands all in the name of “God, Glory & King”. 

Returning to that question of what has America given to the world, my answer was short and to the point. “Jazz”, I said with authority and unflappable belief in the power and importance of art & culture. It took my pubmates by surprise as none expected my answer, and surprisingly to me, they all said “good on ya, I accept that”. Jazz music permeates so much of our popular and high art culture, and America has since packaged and sold it to the world, inspiring countless other artists and musicians. It is uniquely American music inspired by the deeply spiritual songs, gospels, stories, and music that incorporates both black African rhythms and European harmonies. It can be simple, yet at the same time, it can be extremely abstract and complex. 

Back when I was a teen, I became obsessed with the late 60s and in particular psychedelic and hippie music and culture. I began to collect records, books & posters from this era, and I devoured as much as I could in order to learn more about the decade. When I was 16, I found a VHS copy of the D.A. Pennebaker’s 90-minute documentary, ‘Monterey Pop’, at my local video shop and rented it with great excitement. The Monterey Pop Festival was held in Monterey, California, over three days in mid-June 1967. It was made famous for not only being the first music festival of its kind and later inspiring a host of others, including Woodstock. It also introduced Jimi Hendrix to a mainly white, stoned & tripping American audience, and after completely overwhelming the audience with his performance, Hendrix then “sacrificed something that he loves' and ignited his guitar on stage. Overnight, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, and The Who all exploded into major rock and roll stars, and pop music history was forever changed at Monterey.

It was, however, the fifth performance in the film, ‘Bajabule Bonke (The Healing Song)’, that actually intrigued me the most. Sandwiched in between the groovy NY folk of Simon & Garfunkel’s ‘59th Street Bridge Song’ and the pulsating psychedelic liquid lights of The Jefferson Airplane, was a performance that starts with the powerful African beats of a congo and a young African jazz musician singing in his native language, which although I didn’t understand what he was saying, I could tell was coming from deep within and sung with great emotion. Chills went down my spine, the hairs on the back of my neck raised and when his trumpet comes in at the 1 '30 mark, it absolutely soars and eventually took me places that none of the electric rock bands could ever dream of. Despite not understanding the words, here was a man pouring out his soul with raw, honest emotion. This was my introduction to Hugh Masekela. Even then, at 16, I knew that what I was witnessing was spiritual truth music. While I came to the film wanting to watch Hendrix, Joplin, the Airplane, and Country Joe & The Fish, it was Masekela who left the biggest impression, and I needed to hear more. What better place to start in that impenetrable jazz area at my local record store than at the ‘M' section digging to find Hugh Masekela’s catalogue?

Since then, I have spent countless hours discovering hundreds of jazz albums, including well over a dozen of Masekela’s own releases. It is, however, his masterful 1972 double LP masterpiece, ‘Home Is Where The Music Is' that I can confidently say is my favorite jazz record of all time. Imagine “A Love Supreme”, “Kind Of Blue '', “Headhunters”, “Pieces of A Man”,  and Kuti’s "Afrodisiac” all rolled into one double LP. However, it is uniquely Masekela’s own vision and voice that makes it stand out from these other great works of art.  Whilst many of Masekela's previous albums have African elements, most notably his live album, ‘The Americanization of Ooga Booga’, they were, unfortunately, being marketed for a white American audience and his record label increasingly wanted more hits like “Grazing In the Grass” and sought to remove elements deemed as “too African”.  

Recorded in January 1972, ‘Home Is Where The Music Is’ is a breathtaking double LP of astounding joy, beauty, and spirituality. It is the sound of a man diving deep into his own identity.  Masekela had become inspired by the spiritual jazz sounds of labels like Black Jazz, Flying Dutchman, and Strata-East as well as the great Fela Kuti and he was increasingly tapping deeper into his own South African roots. With several records under his belt, a fantastic list of American, Puerto Rican, and African players behind him, and a greater sense of his own voice & musical identity, Masekela would no longer succumb to the pressure of pretending he wasn’t African simply to sell records in the US. He was proudly embracing his South African roots as well as being inspired by the sounds and voices of his adopted nation and those back home who were fighting against oppression and apartheid. Ten months later, Masekela himself would move to Guinea and assemble Ghanaian band, Hedzolez Soundz (whom Kuti had introduced him to), to record a handful of Afrobeat inspired albums with him.

However, it is ‘Home Is Where The Music Is’ that masterfully bridges his earlier records with his more Afro-realized 70s output. Larry Willis’ opening piano notes of “Part of a Whole'' are funky and bluesy and maintain their groove throughout, but it's Masekela’s flugelhorn and Dudo Pakwana’s alto saxophone that takes the album to its soulful, spiritual heights. Throughout the album's ten tracks and 76-minute length, it blends perfectly a wonderful balance of gorgeous post bop and free form experimentations that are full of tonal color and expression. Larry Willis’ piano shines on the utterly beautiful “Minawa”, while Eddie Gomez’s bass gives the perfect urban groove to “Big Apple” and pulses like a heartbeat throughout “Unhome”. These tracks sit perfectly alongside the bluesy “Nomali”, Ntshoko’s killer drum roll of “Blues for Huey”, and the more fusion sounding Afrobeat numbers that wouldn’t sound out of place on a Fela Kuti record.

The album is so beautiful that at one moment, it makes my body move with joy, and the next, it’s so deeply heartfelt and touching that tears form in my eyes. While jazz is arguably the greatest thing America has given the world, ‘Home Is Where The Music Is’ is an album that takes a uniquely American style of art and transcends it into something much bigger and without any borders. This is art at its highest level, and I am so thankful the world was given Hugh Masekela. 

Many jazz albums speak deeply to me, but none move me to my core like ‘Home Is Where The Music Is’. This isn’t a record I listen to. This is a record I feel. 

As is boldly written on the back of Masekela’s 1969 s/t album, “Nothing more need be added. All there remains to do is to do”.  

Hugh Masekela -’Home Is Where The Music Is’, 1972 (Spotify)