DaShawn Hickman with Charlie Hunter: Drums, Roots & Steel

When keyboardist John Medeski (of Medeski, Martin and Wood) produced the Campbell Brothers' Can You Feel It? (Ropeadope, 2005), he helped bring deserved attention to the woefully unrecognized field of "sacred steel," a musical style and African-American gospel tradition that features the steel guitar. Now, seventeen years later, guitar wunderkind Charlie Hunter makes a similar effort by overseeing and playing bass on DaShawn Hickman's Drums, Roots & Steel.

Bringing the familiar "Saints" (...go marching in...) and "Just A Closer Walk With Thee" out of the church and into deep grooves, percolating percussion by Atiba Rorie and Brevan Hampden appears prominently on the first pair of seven numbers on this Earthtones Studio recording. These two instrumentals benefit from Benjy Johnson's clear recordings, all the more so as Hunter's soft touch belies his assertive approach to the bass as it underpins some balmy tones out of Jackson's pedal steel. The latter pair's instrumental bond extends to the aforementioned rhythm duo too, and conjures up an even more infectious pace on "Shout."

As a result, it's all the more appropriate Wendy Hickman lends the vigorous but nonetheless dulcet tones of her voice to that cut (along with the jingle-jangle of her tambourine). It's a tacit invitation for listeners to sing and dance along—hardly an uncommon effect during the course of these approximately thirty-six minutes—but one that finds an especially effective and almost startling contrast in the modified blues that is "Don't Let The Devil Ride;" in counterpoint to Hickman's silky delivery vocal here, her husband also sings in most stirring fashion, but still tells most of the cautionary tale through the angular bending and sliding of notes he coaxes from his instrument.

There's more than a trace of humor on this second longest cut of the LP and thus no sense the performers are belaboring the subject to the detriment of the persuasive visceral sway of the track. The application of wah-wah renders this all the more contemporary, even as that effect more clearly elucidates the title image of this record. Assiduous thought and preparation aplenty obviously went into Drums, Roots & Steel, a notion further reaffirmed in the up-tempo interval toward the last third of this take. A proportionately slower motion on "Precious Lord" offers time for contemplation of what's preceded this cut and, in the form of a rousing closer, what ensues on "Wade In The Water."

It's a bit of a tease before the intensity kicks in on this finale, but like the drama of the intro to the opener, it's emblematic of the musicians' immersion in the moment. That spontaneous sensation permeates this record, but this two minutes-plus stands as an emphatic recapitulation of this record's intent, and as such, is as deeply engrossing as all that precedes it.