Chief Adjuah at Yoshi's

Chief Adjuah
Yoshi's
Oakland, CA
June 23, 2002

Chief Adjuah 's six-seat magic carpet landed for its two-day sojourn at Yoshi's on Thursday night, and what an enchanting performance it was. At first, only five band members took the stage, and the Chief, aka Christian Scott, commenced the stretch-spasm-music spiritual feast with a solo on a customized gold-plated ngoni-type 12-string instrument of his own design. Its sound ranged over the heavens of kora, kalimba, and donso ngoni. And man, could he ever stroke that appliance so tinselly smooth and celestial. The band joined in after the intro culminating with Weedie Braimah's mind-shattering, teeth-rattling solo on djembe. More on Weedie below.

For the second no-name tune, the band was joined by "Jet-eye" tenor and soprano saxophonist Emilio Modeste, who, after the Chief's upper-register high-power solo, proceeded to blast off with his own trenchantly screeching and squeaking avant-garde riffs. Enter pianist Lawrence Fields with his long, graceful squid-like hands that rendered luscious, long, and thoughtful lines.

Next came the blazing standard, "Walkin,'"—written by Miles Davis's friend, Richard Carpenter—with saxophonist Richard Howell, father of Adjuah's drummer and young phenom Elé Howell, invited to sit in on soprano. Both Howells had a unique and magnetic stage presence, and father Howell's solo wailed so hard one wondered why he wasn't a regular band member. (One could easily suspect it was because he had already 'been there, done that.') The tune "Walkin'" spontaneously metamorphosed into "Flyin."

When the song ended, Adjuah launched into a disquisition about what his Indian Chief grandfather Donald Harrison, Sr., had taught him as a boy, more often by his actions than words. The story, while too lengthy to recount here, was a testament to just how socially astute and compassionate a man Adjuah grew up to be. You could have heard a mouse whisper while he talked.

The final tune, "The Last Chief," was presciently penned by Grandfather Donald Harrison, Sr., and dedicated to Adjuah, his grandson. It included an in-the-groove solo by the formidable bassist Luques Curtis (a long-standing member of Eddie Palmieri's ensembles), giving way to the drums and the horns trading solos, all of this concluding with Weedie's sharp attack on djembe.

Weedie Braimah, born in Ghana and raised in "Nawlins," is arguably the greatest djembe player ever to touch the goatskin. It was a thrill to witness such speed and clarity of attack. Also, he had the curious habit of suspending his play mid-measure, only to resume it later in the piece. After his final note of this tune, the house came down as the audience jumped to its feet and roared in awe of his ability and soul.

After this fantastic finale, Chief Adjuah gently commanded us to "Embrace the mirror" and glided into peaceful silence.