Distorted Soul Reviews

In the opening strains of Jonah Nadir Omowale's composition, "Sanctified," a sultry female voice croons, "So good it's sanctified, so good it's sanctified." Well, she got that right. Nadir effortlessly blends hip-hop, jazz, and R&B in such a delectable manner that his musical renditions are certain to satisfy any musical palate.

Like many, I was encouraged by the birth of hip-hop. Watching the break dancers spinning, writhing, performing gravity-defying movements to the sounds of brothers articulating rhymes which simultaneously rendered stultifying social commentary on the status of the "Nation," all this to the strains of underlying R&B classics, thrilled me and filled me with black aesthetic hope.

There was nothing disparate about hearing gangsta rap over an Isley Brothers track. In fact, it seemed right. Like modernity and legacy each embracing the other and rather than negating the other's influence, they instead melded and created something new and yet so familiar.

Nadir continues that tradition. I can hear music enthusiasts now, rushing to compare this brother's voice to some already established vocal stylist. And yes, I had visions of Jareau, but Jareau never said things like:

"Tongues cannot express the feeling when I'm inside of you."

Naw. Un-unh. Al wouldn't dare be that raw. And that is why this brother should not be compared to him. Sure, he has that soulful, jazzy voice and impeccable phrasing, but he didn't stop there. He used that voice not just as a tool to marvel at in and of itself. He went beyond that and dared to use that instrument to say things that at first thought seem incompatible with the implied genre. It's jazz meets the streets, and I must confess, I am too thrilled that the two have finally met.

Because it is that magical thing that happens when entities which are not supposed to meet actually do so that made hip-hop, "hip hop" -- the fusing of the antithetical and what was thought to be mutually exclusive. And that's what makes Nadir special and his comparison to all artists heretofore a caustic inaccuracy at best.

At the same time that I was enraptured by the utter beauty of his voice, the timelessness of his phrasing, and the mellow mood it induced me into, I had to acknowledge the rawness of his message. It was like sardines and pork 'n' beans. And until you have had such a concoction, you don't really know what I mean. It's sweet and funk come together to create something deliciously forbidden. It's blackness. It's black creativity inhibited by what arguably has compromised the legitimacy of hip-hop--white racism and the impact it has had on black creativity and the entertainment industry.

It appears to me that white racism, incendiary in its very manifestation, at a deeper epistemological level actually CONTROLS black creativity in that the black creative artist must always be conscious of how his art will be commercially consumed. That is no small statement. Because if you think about it, that means that the very essence of black creative energy is compromised at inception because the need to satisfy and work within the confines of white culture (i.e. budgetary constraints, audience appeal, "cross-over" potential, etc.) would impact at the deepest epistemological levels how we in essence, "create."

This is deep. Like in nature and adaptation, species evolve in relation to their environmental freedoms and constraints. Thus in similar fashion, black creativity is shaped by the social and cultural context in which it must function. This can only cause one to stop and ponder what our creativity would look like minus such constraints. Well, probably something like what Nadir creates in his music.

Take for instance, the song "Conspiracy" in which Omowale fuses jazz, social commentary, and rap to create a kind of musical masala and shows that the sum of all these things is far greater than their parts.

Jonah Nadir Omowale's music is revolutionary. He is a musician, a lyricist, a song stylist. He is all that and more. Call him what you wish. But don't call him conventional.

Sanctified? Naw, nigga--I was MESMERIZED!

Dr. Omowale Akintunde
November 7, 2002


Dr. Omowale Akintunde is an educator and writer. He received his doctorate from the University of Missouri in Columbia, Mo.

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