In May of this year, Canadian funk-soul/jazz/indie-fusion group SHEBAD recorded a live session for the good people at Audiotree, adding to the rich history of collaborations with a laundry list of wonderfully talented musicians dating all the way back to 2010.
Starting with the slinky, spidery, spiralling Learning to Un- the set shows off, from the outset, a musicianship and a virtuosity that is equally thrilling and baffling. Here, the instruments feel simultaneously separate, but also distinctly whole. There’s a sense of freedom that typically comes with jazz, but also a conciseness that feels like an old soul song. The drums serve the song perfectly and allow the other instruments the ability to roam – the bass in particular, played proficiently by band co-leader and multi-instrumentalist Ciccio Spagnolo, really shines. The vocals – courtesy of the other band leader, Claire Voy – are brilliant, particularly in the context of the harmonies and also in the moments that the staccato delivery comes in. Claire is surely as magnetic as someone can be when just listening to them (this was written before we discovered there was a video version too! She’s equally mesmerising when watching her). Her vocals remind us of Joan As Police Woman, Joss Stone and Sade, all rolled into one.
Terra is up next and starts gently and grows organically, eventually. Again, from the very start, Claire’s powerhouse vocal commands your attention. The twinkly keys make us think of the work of Stevie Wonder, and they are nicely complemented by Bridgit Walsh’s violin. After an intro of about a minute, the song takes a sharp left and evolves into something unrecognisable in a matter of seconds. We now find ourselves in the Erykah Badu realm, and at about halfway through, the Thundercat-esque bass comes to the fore and steps into the spotlight, eventually giving way to a keyboard solo Rick Wakeman would be proud of. Lyrically, there are some pearls here. Lines like “Put the future in a locket / carry it where I go / make mistakes and learn from nature / see yourself and carry on” and “I want to believe / In the power of ultimate plans / Nihilism breaks through / Inspires the pain of needing proof” particularly stick out. Claire’s voice is back, front and centre as the song climaxes with her effortless, fluid vocalisations. The tempo of the track seems to shift repeatedly over the course of its 6 minutes and 41 seconds. It bobs and weaves and is extremely hard to pin down, and the whole thing is hugely gratifying and compelling.
An adapted interlude version of Waves follows next. It’s a short a cappella rendition of the song, and once again, the harmonies are astounding. Like a blend of honey, caramel and molasses and just as sweet, Waves is a brief palette cleanser. Short and sweet, but just the right amount, Claire, Bridgit and Emile White (keys, sax, bass) work together to generate something that makes for an unusual, almost folky-feeling prospect, with slightly shamanic or otherworldly undertones. With this tone shift, it feels like there’s some kind of summoning or ritual going on. The vibes are most definitely on point.
Waves segues into Brother, which sees Claire pick up a Strat and – with carefully picked clean guitar lines and minimal drums – the song begins with an album Death Cab For Cutie feel to it. Then the violin comes in, and we’re in alt-folk/country territory. This is another stylistic deviation and comes as surprisingly as the previous one. We’re reminded of Joni Mitchell, First Aid Kit, Jenny Lewis and The Watson Twins. It’s charming and catchy and eventually evolves into a slightly more familiar-feeling jazzy vibe. “Need you like a baby learns to crawl, need you as you are”, Claire sings as she reels off a series of metaphors that emphasise the importance of human relationships and their bearings on our lives. “And all the riches in the world can’t bring you closer to it all / but all the people in your world will bring you closer to awe” also feels like a particularly pertinent line, in this age of political propaganda, global unrest and engineered social disconnection.
The Heart follows and tonally returns to a sound a bit closer in style to the first couple of tracks. The plucked electric guitar paired with the violin creates feelings of tension and trepidation. As the song progresses, we’re reminded of early Amy Winehouse and the way she infused jazz with soul and soul with jazz. The melancholy tone created by the violin on this track really makes it, in our opinion. It’s smooth and sultry like a Hiatus Kaiyote song and soulful like Raphael Saadiq at his retro-inspired best.
Up next is Vernal Pool, which starts a bit eerily. A flute comes in and is the star of the show in the intro; it’s played by Spagnolo, who you may remember was playing bass earlier – he also plays keys (rather excellently) on this track, a man of many talents, clearly. Towards the middle of the song, the tempo changes but only for a few bars before quickly shifting back. The musicianship is still undeniably impressive. This happens a couple of times throughout the song, and the sprawling adventurousness reminds us of the work of Kamasi Washington. Towards the end of the track, drummer Emmitt Leacock seems to channel Questlove, bringing a Roots-y jump to the rhythm. Combine this with the bass tone, which is funkier than a mosquito’s tweeter, and the rhythm section is really cooking with gas.
Open Yourself sounds like what you imagine it might sound like if Jack White experimented with jazz. From the fuzzy bass tone to the Dead Weather-esque drums, it screams of The Willy Wonka of Rock’ N’ Roll. It’s also reminiscent of BADBADNOTGOOD, another band who do fusion exceptionally well. When the vocals eventually come in, they complement the airy, spacey vibe perfectly. “Ooooooopen yoouurseeee-eeelf” the ladies sing as the music is further bolstered by liberal use of synthesisers, saxophone, effects pedals (specifically an intense delay), all of which add additional vivid colour and texture to this vivacious tapestry of sound. Emmitt adds vocal duties to his drumming as he delivers a rapped verse that cuts through the instrumentation like a ray of sunlight before going graciously back behind the clouds.
Black Walnut is the final tune and starts off feeling like a jazzy upbeat Daft Punk-esque number that wouldn’t have been out of place on Random Access Memories. With its Another One Bites The Dust-esque combination of booming bass and electronic drum sounds (as well as live ones), the blend of the individual elements is possibly the strongest it’s been so far. It’s the most jaunty and accessible moment of the set, and it comes as no surprise to learn that this one was released as a single. Full of energy and urgency, this one doesn’t fluctuate. It’s pedal to the metal, all the time.
Free-spirited and loose but at the same time perfectly executed and quite obviously born of competence and confidence, this performance feels like a moment of crowning glory for Guelph’s finest.
As mentioned earlier, there is a video recording available of the entire session (plus interspersed interviews) on YouTube, and the set should definitely be watched instead of listened to, wherever possible, in order to be enjoyed in its full unmitigated glory.
Written by Kinda Grizzly
