Tig is sitting in my lap, and I am listening to the amazing Pura Fé. I’ve been catching up on the Native American music scene all week, and I am so far beyond happy that there isn’t even a word for it. There was new stuff from my favorites, and I have been an ordering and downloading fool all week. This is really great music, and it sucks that you’ll probably never hear it on mainstream radio. But it’s easy enough to find, these days if you’re looking for it.
I think that the first time that I heard live Native American music was at The Wetlands in New York City. (They’ve long since closed, which makes me sad.) I’d heard a group called Ulali on the soundtrack of a a movie called Smoke Signals, and I had to hear them live. This group of three women came onstage with drums and just started belting out this music that was part soul, part blues, part traditional Native American, and that was it. I was a fan of Ulali for life. Unfortunately, the group didn’t stay together. The internet wasn’t then what it is now, so keeping up with new music and ordering hard to find CDs wasn’t yet an easy thing. I got into a few Native American rock bands and hung around the powwow circuit, but there was just nothing like Ulali.
A few years ago, it occurred to me to do a search, and I found Pura Fé again. Pura Fé founded Ulali, and she was still singing on her own. I grabbed Follow Your Heart’s Desire on iTunes or Amazon a while ago, and there was the same, raw, pure voice that I remembered. There is a notable vocal resemblance to Janis Joplin, but there is a warmth and sweetness that is absent in Joplin. I have this theory that any music that makes me want to weep is the best, and there is some undercurrent in her music that just makes me want to cheer and cry and wave my fists in protest and triumph. Listening to Pura Fé is like having church all by yourself.
Did another search this week, and realized that I had a lot of catching up to do. I’d missed Hold the Rain in 2008, and Caution to the Wind way back in 1995. I’m still waiting for Hold the Rain (from CDbaby,) but I was able to order a used copy of Caution to the Wind on Amazon. It’s very early Pura Fé, and has a definite 90s influence. There’s a really good cover of “I Want to Be where You Are.” And “Bye Bye Missy Blue” has got to be my favorite. It’s sad and bluesy but also oddly singable. It reminds me of Manhattan Transfer from that era, and also of Phyllis Hyman. The most recent collection, Full Moon Rising, is available on iTunes, and that’s been in heavy rotation for me. “Mahk Jchi” is a favorite, and appears on a few of her albums; but every time I hear it, it’s different. I think that I remember reading that this song went gold in Italy, which makes me so happy. I’m glad that this music is appreciated somewhere in the world.
Pur Fé is the real deal. She trained as a dancer when she was younger, moved back to North Carolina to be close to her native Tuscarora community, and she works tirelessly to advance the rights of Native Americans. She taught herself how to play slide guitar, and she’s a natural.
Now! Also on the Smoke Signals soundtrack was a fellah named Jim Boyd. I didn’t know a lot about him until recently, except that I liked his music. Honestly, I thought he was a much older man, because his voice carries all of this weight and wisdom. Now, I own some of his music, and I’ll probably go all completist and try to get my hands on everything that he’s ever recorded. Jim has a haunting, blues-influenced style that’s just made me want more. He was part of the Native American rock band XIT, but has reportedly developed his own style since then. (You just know that I’m searching for XIT recordings already, right?) He can also reduce me to tears. “Father and Farther” on the Smoke Signals soundtrack was an early favorite for me, as was “A Million Miles Away.” I just downloaded First Come, Last Served from Amazon, and the Live Cd from his band Kyo-T.
Jim is another musician who is following his own path. He walked away from rock and the fast life to get sober and play his own stuff. He is constantly approached by the larger music publishing companies, but that’s not for him. He lives with his wife and son on the same reservation where he spent a lot of his youth. He’s friends with and has spent a lot of time making music with author Sherman Alexie, who wrote the screenplay for Smoke Signals, and is an award-winning author. Boyd seems to be self-deprecating and unassuming, and his music is in turns plaintive, rollicking and just quietly hard-hitting.
As if all that wasn’t enough for me, I found a 3-CD a collection called Indian Rezervation Blues & More. My jaw dropped. I drooled. The set didn’t seem to be on sale in the US, so I looked around. I found it on a few UK sites, but was really happy when I found it on the French version of Amazon. This is the stuff that dreams are made of. I haven’t received my copy yet, and probably won’t for a few weeks. The clips are definitely drool-worthy. Boyd is featured, as is Pura Fé. There are lots of other artists that I can’t wait to become acquainted with on this collection. There are some clips lurking out there on the net if you want to seek those out, and it’s worth it. Trust me. And you want this. You just don’t know it yet.
And I have been SO much worse/bad/naughty when it comes to downloading music, but I think I’ve rambled on enough for now. I should be out running, but I just don’t want to go back outside. I’m going to do an hour on the bike, then row. That should do it.
Also, I took down an old pattern that needed reworking in a fine-gauge wool, and it’s an old favorite. I was a quarter up the back last time I looked, and I still have to regraph the front. But it’s coming. I’m also doing another artists’ trading card exchange, and the deadline LOOMS. After I work out to tonight I’m gonna listen to music and be creative. I scoured the house yesterday, and now I can think. When it’s cluttered in my home, I can’t work. So now, I have no excuses.
Mad Love,
G.
