Credits
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Abdullah Ibrahim: Rare Dollar
By Jeff Kaliss
When pianist and composer Dollar Brand (born Adolph Johannes Brand in 1934, and later
called Abdullah Ibrahim) recorded with the Jazz Epistles for South Africa's Gallo label in 1960, it
was a harbinger of black musical and political development which would take much longer to
secure roots in that nation's racist climate.
The album, re-released as Jazz in Africa, Vol. 1 in 1994 (Camden/BMG), showcased a bop-wise
band which included trumpeter/cornetist Hugh Masekela, and could rightly have taken a place in
the world's record stores alongside piano-driven ensembles led by Thelonious Monk or Horace
Silver. But the album was something of a freak for Gallo, which catered to an economically and
socially predominant white market. The few copies issued sold quickly, and there was no second
run. Masekela and several other prominent black musicians chose not to return home after a tour
in England later in 1960, and Brand followed suit two years later, leading to his "discovery" by
Duke Ellington in Zurich's Africana Club and a Reprise recording date. Two years after that,
Nelson Mandela, an activist for black rights, was sentenced to lifetime imprisonment. While in exile in
1968, Brand adopted the Islamic faith and the name Abullah Ibrahim, though he continued to
record under the former moniker.
Five Dollar Brand recordings appear in this review (online availability of one version or another is listed in parentheses):
Underground in Africa
Mannenberg (OneWorld / CDnow)
African Herbs / Soweto (OneWorld / Amazon / CDnow / Duffelbag)
Blues for a Hip King (OneWorld / Sterns / Duffelbag)
Black Lightning (Amazon / Duffelbag)
The handful of albums reviewed here, all rarities procured by a generous friend from South
Africa, were apparently recorded during Ibrahim's temporary homecoming to Cape Town, which began in 1973. I use "apparently" because liner notes are sketchy or non-existent, and relevant information is likewise difficult to dig up on the Web or elsewhere. These records have changed names and been reissued under mysterious circumstances, making annotation a perilous undertaking. (As the MusicWeb Encylopaedia {cq} of
Popular Music understates, " (d)iscographies are confused".) Taking charge of his own affairs, probably wisely, Ibrahim initially issued all five on his own label, As Shams (translated from the Arabic as The Sun in most bios and discographies), though several also bear the EMI imprint, and
at least two of the albums (as noted below) were reissued by Chiaroscuro on LP format. All five
CD's are LP-length, none longer than 40 minutes. The material reviewed here bears the As Shams imprint. For more background information, you may wish to consult Lars Rasmussen's detailed Ibrahim discography, available online from Booktrader (Denmark) and reviewed at Stephen Calhoun's Mantra Modes site. This was unavailable in book form at press time.
These reviews will tell you what we do know, as well as what we feel, about the albums,
which collectively defy genre classification while serving up both Ibrahim's jazz talent and his
nation's unique and delicious musical stew. Still fairly early in his career, they provide evidence of
how far he'd come and what he'd continue exploring during his now nearly half a century of
making music.
EMI issued Underground in Africa as a 1996 CD, but if you're lucky you'll find the LP,
dated at 1974, for sale online for around $200. "Kalahari," the opening and longest track (23
minutes), isn't necessarily the best of the four original Brand compositions, nor does it feature the
best horn work of collaborators Basil Coetzee and Arthur Jacobs (tenors) or Robbie Jansen (alto).
Over a spooky, soulful, bluesy vamp by Brand on piano, the horns seem eager to improvise out,
but it doesn't work as well as it does elsewhere in the group's oeuvre. Horn arrangements are
better on "Ornettes {cq} Cornet," apparently an homage to one of Brand's progressive American
role models. This is one of several tracks on the As Shams albums where it sounds like Brand is
playing either electric piano or prepared piano, here invoking a bagpipeish drone. But there are no
liner notes here, only a list of tracks and players and some gorgeous Afro-iconic cover art by
Hargreves Ntukwana.
"All Day & All Night" makes it sound like Brand was also listening to the brothers
Adderley, with drummer Nazier Kapdi here laying down almost rock-like rhythms in a soul funk
groove. "Gwidza" will best satisfy fans of Brand's trademark hymnal themes, apparently
influenced by long-time Christian missionary activity in southern Africa but syncopated and
sweetened in the black townships into a danceable form called mbaqanga or township jive.
Another beloved trademark is the pianist's launching himself from the theme into fortissimo slams
and celebrations, and then returning to theme base with accompanying hum. These elements were
heard to good effect on Brand's earlier solo piano albums, including African Sketchbook on Enja,
though here he's using a different, uncredited keyboard, possibly electric piano.
Mannenberg "Is Where It's Happening" is the "legendary" album among the five,
apparently having sold well in South Africa and contributed a nickname to tenor Basil
"Mannenberg" Coetzee, who sounds in better form than on the Underground side. Altoist Robbie
Jansen testified about the 1974 sessions which produced Mannenberg that, "In that week we
recorded eight albums' worth of material [and] (e)very song we played just once." Reissued by
Gallo on LP in 1983, the album contains two long tracks built on the familiar elements found in
"Gwidza" on the previous album and no doubt provoking pride in regional black identity at the
time of the original release. Monty Weber powers the title track, "Mannenberg," with locomotive
drums harnessed to Paul Michaels' gently rocking, repeating bass line. Jansen and Coetzee both
double on flute, with Morris Goldberg playing a second alto, and the horn-and-piano call-and-
response is enchanting.
For reasons unilluminated by the non-existent liner notes, Brand's keyboard sounds
"prepared," or in any case metallic, on the first track, but "normal" on "The Pilgrim." After a
gospely intro, Brand soars at times into the ecstatic free playing explored on his solo sides. Drum
and bass again secure the underpulse.
 In his online All Music Guide review, Scott Yanow refers to African Herbs by an alternate
title, Soweto, and shows it as released in 1965 on Chiaroscuro. In fact, Chiaroscuro's first album,
featuring Earl "Fatha" Hines, didn't appear till 1971, and African Herbs, according to Joe
Thloloe's brief liner notes, was "the product of two sessions: the February 1975 session in Cape
Town, which produced the title song, and the Johannesburg one last June [presumably also 1975],
which gave us [the other two tracks, also by Brand] 'Satihima' and 'Soweto'." In a phone
conversation, Yanow acknowledged that he might have received erroneous information from a
European source, but in any case Soweto was in fact released as a now out-of-print LP,
Chiaroscuro 2012.
The title cut ("African Herbs", that is) is once again redolent with mbaqanga sweetness,
ramified by Basil "Mannenberg" Coetzee's happy but sometimes slightly off-tone tenor. Thloloe
states that "Dollar Brand plays electric piano for the first time on a record on the title tune," a
perhaps dubious claim, and notes that the leader doubles on soprano sax. Tholoe goes on to
illuminate the composition's background: "Some years back we enjoyed watching solo trotters,
singing along to the accompaniment of their concertinas. Township kids would be right there
behind them. 'African Herbs' takes one back to those days. . . you get the two sides of Dollar
fused into one: the slow, thoughtful left, almost carpet texture, and the right ululating to fill the
gaps left by Coetzee."
"Sathima" suggests another link to America, conscious or circumstantial, this time to the
spiritual quests of tenor Pharoah Sanders, whom Coetzee seems to echo here. Sipho Gumede's
bass lopes evocatively, supported by Peter Morake's insistent drumming, on this tune titled for
the Muslim name of Brand's singer wife, born Bea Benjamin. "Soweto Is Where It's At" is one of
the best of Brand's ensemble outings, handsomely constructed and arranged. He introduces the
carefree mbaqanga theme on electric piano, then passes it to the tightly teamed horns, Coetzee on
tenor, Duku Makasi on alto, and Dennis Mpale on trumpet. Brand trades passages artfully with
the horns and Gumede's bass, and tenor and trumpet solo brightly and brilliantly, the latter
reminiscent of the sound of Hugh Masekela, Brand's former Epistle. The piece ends gloriously
with an extended coda, engaging the listener in waves of brass, resolving to the composer's solo
piano.
 Blues for a Hip King, another co-release with EMI, was apparently longtime Brand
producer Rashid Vally's timely seizing of the opportunity of a South African visit by four
American jazzmen, Harold Land (tenor), Blue Mitchell (trumpet and flugelhorn), Buster Cooper
(trombone), and Doug Sydes (drums). Vally brought the Americans together at Gallo Studios
with Brand, Coetzee, and bassist Lionel Beukes, in November of 1975. Cooper, an Ellington
alumnus, had met Brand during his exile in New York, and this one-time aggregation around four
Brand originals worked pretty well for all players.
The limited harmonic framework and blues vamp of "Monk in Harlem" is enhanced by
Mitchell's two cool but imaginative horns. The difference between the two tenors is assessed by
Joe Thloloe in his notes: "Land, smooth, sophisticated; Coetzee, pouring years of (pain?){cq}
through his horn." Thloloe argues convincingly that "Coetzee is playing at his best in this album,
better than in the Gold Disc winner Mannenberg". Brand seems to be using electric piano again.
"Sweet Basil Blues," dedicated not to a future New York club but to Coetzee, is a sort of
swinging mbaqanga, inducing golden horn harmonies and joyous burbles from Beukes' bass.
Thloloe advises about this number that, "those listeners who have been looking for another
Mannenberg might find echoes in this old fashioned South African song." "Tsakwe Here Comes
the Postman," dedicated to Brand's son, is set on a somewhat lackluster melody, but once again
Mitchell gives things wings, alongside Cooper's progressive J.J. Johnsonish 'bone and Land's
rapid but tasteful arpeggios.
The title track is actually more reverential gospel than blues, drawing a particularly soulful
solo from Land and what Thloloe rightly calls "dramatic and beautiful variations in tempo" by
Mitchell. Coetzee establishes his unique voice here, his burr and sass contrasting with Land
Brand's moving harmonic modulations suggest a prayer for things and folks living and dead.
If you look carefully on the liner notes for Black Lightning, you'll see the date 1976, the
year of the Soweto student uprising, suggesting that this album was recorded shortly before
Brand, disturbed by the continuing danger and cruelty in his homeland, once again sought refuge
in New York. (There he based his ongoing successful career as Abudllah Ibrahim, until 15 years
later he was able to return to record in South Africa.) Black Lightning's opening title track rides
on a soulful blues vamp maintained by Brand's strong left hand, with tenors Coetzee (here calling
himself "Basil Mannenberg") and Duku Makasi and veteran South African altoist Kippie Moketsi
pursuing long solo meditations.
"Little Boy" returns to the Church of Mbaqanga, its affirming progressions satisfying the
soul and Moketsi's slightly raw intonation working well against the sweetness. on "Black and
Brown Cherries," Brand is again working an uncredited alternative keyboard, with soulful effect.
In a rare (for this period) departure from original material, Brand closes the album with
Thelonious's "Blue Monk," but the slack swing and less-than-apt improvisations suggest that this
particular group should have stuck closer to home.
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