Sons of Kemet
Sons of Kemet is a British jazz group formed in 2011 that consists of Shabaka Hutchings, Tom Skinner, Theon Cross, and Eddie Hick (Seb Rochford quit Sons of Kemet in late 2016). The group uses saxophone and clarinet (Hutchings), tuba (Cross), and a revolving cast of two drummers (Skinner, Hick) to make their music and plays a mixture of jazz, rock, Caribbean folk, and African music. Cross replaced Oren Marshall on tuba. The band won Best Jazz Act at the 2013 MOBO Awards. These collaborative players have previously won major praise in celebrated acts such as Polar Bear, Hello Skinny, Read Full BioSons of Kemet is a British jazz group formed in 2011 that consists of Shabaka Hutchings, Tom Skinner, Theon Cross, and Eddie Hick (Seb Rochford quit Sons of Kemet in late 2016). The group uses saxophone and clarinet (Hutchings), tuba (Cross), and a revolving cast of two drummers (Skinner, Hick) to make their music and plays a mixture of jazz, rock, Caribbean folk, and African music. Cross replaced Oren Marshall on tuba. The band won Best Jazz Act at the 2013 MOBO Awards.
These collaborative players have previously won major praise in celebrated acts such as Polar Bear, Hello Skinny, Melt Yourself Down, Mulatu Astatke and the Heliocentrics, and Sun Ra’s Arkestra. Yet there’s still nothing quite like the ‘supergroup’ sound of Sons Of Kemet: eloquent, fierce, explosively funky – and thrillingly out-there.
‘I see Sons Of Kemet as a group that’s free to explore even more areas,’ smiles the genial 31-year-old Hutchings. ‘The music is driven by the band’s synergy, but it could go anywhere, and we’ve played everywhere from sit-down art venues to sweaty nightclubs and international festivals; we’re not forced into one direction. We can let our musicality take on a life of its own. When we play live, we know what the end result is: everyone in hysteria. But how we get there is anyone’s guess.’
Originally formed in May 2011, Sons Of Kemet had already forged a rep for incendiary live sets by the time their debut album, Burn, was released in September 2013. That assured collection inspired passionate props across the board, from DJ/music connoisseur Gilles Peterson (who included Burn in his Worldwide Awards shortlist) to The Arts Desk (who pronounced it Album Of The Year), iTunes Best Of Jazz, and The Quietus. The band also scooped the MOBO Best Jazz trophy that year, which remains one of Hutchings’s proudest achievements: ‘It felt like lots and lots of work had actually paid off,’ he says, adding wryly: ‘Actually, I see Burn as quite a restrained album.’
Hutchings regards Sons Of Kemet’s hotly anticipated second album, Lest We Forget What We Came Here To Do, as a vivid continuation of their debut work’s themes, rather than a complete departure. He also describes the latest collection as ‘a meditation on the Caribbean diaspora in Britain’.
‘The realisation dawned after I’d started writing these tunes,’ he explains. ‘I was thinking of my grandmother’s generation from the Caribbean, who came here to work incredibly hard, and also what it means to be a black person in Britain now, especially a generation of youth experiencing high unemployment, and those elements of society who are not always easy to see.’
A pivotal track on Lest We Forget… is the ‘earthy and ceremonial’ Afrofuturism, which takes the band’s explorations of Caribbean roots into new realms:
‘The bass rhythm on that track is based on a traditional Barbadian style called tuk, with a bass and snare drum; it’s similar to fife music from New Orleans, but there are also links to West African roots, and Western military band music. Barbados is quite a small island, and before the emancipation of slaves, there was nowhere for people to privately retain African cultural traits or beliefs – so they were finding ways to keep those elements in “acceptable” forms of music. I think it could be a Caribbean thing: to express something with deep meaning about society, that might come from having experienced trauma, within a form that might feel quite light-hearted. You get the same thing in calypso music.’
The expansive roots of Lest We Forget… also reflect Hutchings’s personal history. ‘I do see this as my baby,’ he admits. He was raised in Birmingham, but spent his years between the ages of 6 and 16 in Barbados, where he first picked up an instrument – in his school’s recorder group, aged 9. ‘I was quite staid,’ he laughs. ‘I thought I was going to be in an orchestra; it was all about classical and calypso bands for me. When I was in the Caribbean, kids my age saw jazz as music for old people or rich people.’
That perspective shifted radically back in Birmingham, when Hutchings befriended alto-sax and MC talent Soweto Kinch, at the latter’s weekly live jam sessions. ‘It was incredible to hear jazz being played live and mixed with hip hop by someone who was close to me and cool,’ he recalls. Hutchings began to delve into the jazz music catalogue at Birmingham library, while constantly sharpening his own skills, winning a place to study clarinet and then saxophone at London’s prestigious Guildhall School Of Music And Drama.
Just as Burn blazed through unpredictable atmospheres and effects, Hutchings incorporates far-reaching influences on Lest We Forget… These range from his relationship with classical concepts (Mo’ Wiser), to literary inspirations on tracks such as In The Castle Of My Skin (named after Barbadian author George Lamming’s 1953 novel about post-colonial identity) and The Long Night Of Octavia Butler, in homage to the award-winning African-American sci-fi writer. ‘When I read books I love, they kind of put a trance over me, and Octavia Butler particularly has that effect,’ says Hutchings. ‘I was thinking about her 1998 novel Parable Of The Talents; it presents a futuristic vision that is just close enough to normality to make you unsettled.’
Meanwhile, the album’s exceptionally resonant opening track reflects an unsettling modern reality; In Memory Of Samir Awad was written to commemorate a Palestinian teen killed by Israeli forces as he fled their gunfire in 2013. ‘We’re trying to immortalise an everyday youth, and an occurrence that is everyday in that region of the world, and to say that it is significant,’ says Huchings. ‘I wanted an intensity that continued throughout the piece. It’s a taut existence, and the low notes symbolise the bombings or eruptions in “normal” life under occupation.’
The album’s overall ‘restless and trancey’ energy is definitely a collective achievement, and Hutchings is full of enthusiasm for his bandmates’ powerful and intuitive dynamics. ‘All of the other members are composers of music in their own right, and I think that’s really important,’ he says. ‘I can give them the bare roots, and they’re thinking about the balance, how the grand structure of the piece hangs. Everyone’s focused, and I can dig into my own role.’
Sons Of Kemet have seeped this latest material into their irrepressible live sets over the past year and a half. Now it comes into its own, as Lest We Forget What We Came Here To Do – and the possibilities are still exhilarating:
‘On some level, our duty is to give the audience what they want,’ says Hutchings. ‘On another, it’s to prise open those expectations and put something else in there – and on another level, it’s to forget all of that, and just create euphoria.’
Lest We Forget What We Came Here To Do is released on Naim Jazz
These collaborative players have previously won major praise in celebrated acts such as Polar Bear, Hello Skinny, Melt Yourself Down, Mulatu Astatke and the Heliocentrics, and Sun Ra’s Arkestra. Yet there’s still nothing quite like the ‘supergroup’ sound of Sons Of Kemet: eloquent, fierce, explosively funky – and thrillingly out-there.
‘I see Sons Of Kemet as a group that’s free to explore even more areas,’ smiles the genial 31-year-old Hutchings. ‘The music is driven by the band’s synergy, but it could go anywhere, and we’ve played everywhere from sit-down art venues to sweaty nightclubs and international festivals; we’re not forced into one direction. We can let our musicality take on a life of its own. When we play live, we know what the end result is: everyone in hysteria. But how we get there is anyone’s guess.’
Originally formed in May 2011, Sons Of Kemet had already forged a rep for incendiary live sets by the time their debut album, Burn, was released in September 2013. That assured collection inspired passionate props across the board, from DJ/music connoisseur Gilles Peterson (who included Burn in his Worldwide Awards shortlist) to The Arts Desk (who pronounced it Album Of The Year), iTunes Best Of Jazz, and The Quietus. The band also scooped the MOBO Best Jazz trophy that year, which remains one of Hutchings’s proudest achievements: ‘It felt like lots and lots of work had actually paid off,’ he says, adding wryly: ‘Actually, I see Burn as quite a restrained album.’
Hutchings regards Sons Of Kemet’s hotly anticipated second album, Lest We Forget What We Came Here To Do, as a vivid continuation of their debut work’s themes, rather than a complete departure. He also describes the latest collection as ‘a meditation on the Caribbean diaspora in Britain’.
‘The realisation dawned after I’d started writing these tunes,’ he explains. ‘I was thinking of my grandmother’s generation from the Caribbean, who came here to work incredibly hard, and also what it means to be a black person in Britain now, especially a generation of youth experiencing high unemployment, and those elements of society who are not always easy to see.’
A pivotal track on Lest We Forget… is the ‘earthy and ceremonial’ Afrofuturism, which takes the band’s explorations of Caribbean roots into new realms:
‘The bass rhythm on that track is based on a traditional Barbadian style called tuk, with a bass and snare drum; it’s similar to fife music from New Orleans, but there are also links to West African roots, and Western military band music. Barbados is quite a small island, and before the emancipation of slaves, there was nowhere for people to privately retain African cultural traits or beliefs – so they were finding ways to keep those elements in “acceptable” forms of music. I think it could be a Caribbean thing: to express something with deep meaning about society, that might come from having experienced trauma, within a form that might feel quite light-hearted. You get the same thing in calypso music.’
The expansive roots of Lest We Forget… also reflect Hutchings’s personal history. ‘I do see this as my baby,’ he admits. He was raised in Birmingham, but spent his years between the ages of 6 and 16 in Barbados, where he first picked up an instrument – in his school’s recorder group, aged 9. ‘I was quite staid,’ he laughs. ‘I thought I was going to be in an orchestra; it was all about classical and calypso bands for me. When I was in the Caribbean, kids my age saw jazz as music for old people or rich people.’
That perspective shifted radically back in Birmingham, when Hutchings befriended alto-sax and MC talent Soweto Kinch, at the latter’s weekly live jam sessions. ‘It was incredible to hear jazz being played live and mixed with hip hop by someone who was close to me and cool,’ he recalls. Hutchings began to delve into the jazz music catalogue at Birmingham library, while constantly sharpening his own skills, winning a place to study clarinet and then saxophone at London’s prestigious Guildhall School Of Music And Drama.
Just as Burn blazed through unpredictable atmospheres and effects, Hutchings incorporates far-reaching influences on Lest We Forget… These range from his relationship with classical concepts (Mo’ Wiser), to literary inspirations on tracks such as In The Castle Of My Skin (named after Barbadian author George Lamming’s 1953 novel about post-colonial identity) and The Long Night Of Octavia Butler, in homage to the award-winning African-American sci-fi writer. ‘When I read books I love, they kind of put a trance over me, and Octavia Butler particularly has that effect,’ says Hutchings. ‘I was thinking about her 1998 novel Parable Of The Talents; it presents a futuristic vision that is just close enough to normality to make you unsettled.’
Meanwhile, the album’s exceptionally resonant opening track reflects an unsettling modern reality; In Memory Of Samir Awad was written to commemorate a Palestinian teen killed by Israeli forces as he fled their gunfire in 2013. ‘We’re trying to immortalise an everyday youth, and an occurrence that is everyday in that region of the world, and to say that it is significant,’ says Huchings. ‘I wanted an intensity that continued throughout the piece. It’s a taut existence, and the low notes symbolise the bombings or eruptions in “normal” life under occupation.’
The album’s overall ‘restless and trancey’ energy is definitely a collective achievement, and Hutchings is full of enthusiasm for his bandmates’ powerful and intuitive dynamics. ‘All of the other members are composers of music in their own right, and I think that’s really important,’ he says. ‘I can give them the bare roots, and they’re thinking about the balance, how the grand structure of the piece hangs. Everyone’s focused, and I can dig into my own role.’
Sons Of Kemet have seeped this latest material into their irrepressible live sets over the past year and a half. Now it comes into its own, as Lest We Forget What We Came Here To Do – and the possibilities are still exhilarating:
‘On some level, our duty is to give the audience what they want,’ says Hutchings. ‘On another, it’s to prise open those expectations and put something else in there – and on another level, it’s to forget all of that, and just create euphoria.’
Lest We Forget What We Came Here To Do is released on Naim Jazz
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My Queen Is Ada Eastman
Sons of Kemet Lyrics
No lyrics text found for this track.
The lyrics can frequently be found in the comments below, by filtering for lyric videos or browsing the comments in the different videos below.
Marco Laera
Still here still grinding
Hustling and striving
In these dark times these dark
Minds I'm a diamond
Big Ben is still chiming
They don't wanna see us smiling
They wanna keep us grimey
But my politics still lively
Still here amongst the sirens
Turn the claps and violence down
Dust in lane I'm scribing
No visits from your Highness
Still here my dear despite
The prophecies of seers
Smashed to pieces on the pier
Put myself back like IKEA
Still here among the brass
Garments washed in starch
London wind is biting harsh
Shiver my thin moustache
I'm crude but not into crass
Willing and able and up to the task
They go low we go high it's a fact
They go low we go high like tax
Still here and cool
Still here like Queen Kasoon, J life leaves and oooh
Old school, like tomato stew, ooh
Stood on the shoulders of greats
In my hands my own faith
Make my enemies eat the cake
Cry me a river, cry me a lake
Still here God willing
Old rebels still revelling
Calm inside the Catalin
Calm though times unsettling
Too dark a mind to settle it
Don't want the beef that I'm serving
Feline amongst these vermin
Black and proud and determined
Jumped in the war left with no stitch
Ate with a priest, drived with a witch
Man's a 9th degree
Heartbreak wherever my flag is pitched
Cutting my hunger for fine things
Learning the lesson that time brings
Acquired this taste for London Pride
Spread my wings in these noxious skies
In these streets, these streets where foxes hide
I'm not yet old and I'm so wise
I take this strife in my stride
I must admit, it's tough at times
But most don't like it, I dived in
This never never never never
Ending pressure piling on
I'm still here still unruly
All sound and all fury
All frown and all fury
All gas and all fury
No peers, no jury
Burn UKIP, fuck the Tories
Fuck the fascists, end of story
Fuck 'em all, fuck 'em truly
Call me a roach, 'cause I'm resilient
I'm born strong, the son of an immigrant
Struggling element
And I'll be here
I'll be here when your cities are sediment
And only your borders and fences are left
I'll be here when your banks stop selling debt
And all your leaders stop selling death
And you've lost all relevance
In the corner, check me reading a paper
Scribing your last will and testament
I'm still here
I'm still here
I'm still here
I'm still here
Man still here
I'm still here
I'm still here, done now
Mark Brouwer
My first listen. Powerful.
Luka Edisherashvili
Buddah!
That One Guy
This is amazing.
Stefan Ristea
Can't wait for the concert in Bucharest on the 31st of May. I'm just absolutely amazed by how great this whole new album sounds.
BeenScanning
Amazing performance at Moods Zurich! I love you guys!
Miguel Angel Guzman Camargo
oyeee, que bien suena!
Eduardo Prospero
Fuego.
Ecléctico Iconoclasta
fueguisimo
Alain Gripoix
génial, ça bouge, ça nous bouge!!!
Marco Laera
Still here still grinding
Hustling and striving
In these dark times these dark
Minds I'm a diamond
Big Ben is still chiming
They don't wanna see us smiling
They wanna keep us grimey
But my politics still lively
Still here amongst the sirens
Turn the claps and violence down
Dust in lane I'm scribing
No visits from your Highness
Still here my dear despite
The prophecies of seers
Smashed to pieces on the pier
Put myself back like IKEA
Still here among the brass
Garments washed in starch
London wind is biting harsh
Shiver my thin moustache
I'm crude but not into crass
Willing and able and up to the task
They go low we go high it's a fact
They go low we go high like tax
Still here and cool
Still here like Queen Kasoon, J life leaves and oooh
Old school, like tomato stew, ooh
Stood on the shoulders of greats
In my hands my own faith
Make my enemies eat the cake
Cry me a river, cry me a lake
Still here God willing
Old rebels still revelling
Calm inside the Catalin
Calm though times unsettling
Too dark a mind to settle it
Don't want the beef that I'm serving
Feline amongst these vermin
Black and proud and determined
Jumped in the war left with no stitch
Ate with a priest, drived with a witch
Man's a 9th degree
Heartbreak wherever my flag is pitched
Cutting my hunger for fine things
Learning the lesson that time brings
Acquired this taste for London Pride
Spread my wings in these noxious skies
In these streets, these streets where foxes hide
I'm not yet old and I'm so wise
I take this strife in my stride
I must admit, it's tough at times
But most don't like it, I dived in
This never never never never
Ending pressure piling on
I'm still here still unruly
All sound and all fury
All frown and all fury
All gas and all fury
No peers, no jury
Burn UKIP, fuck the Tories
Fuck the fascists, end of story
Fuck 'em all, fuck 'em truly
Call me a roach, 'cause I'm resilient
I'm born strong, the son of an immigrant
Struggling element
And I'll be here
I'll be here when your cities are sediment
And only your borders and fences are left
I'll be here when your banks stop selling debt
And all your leaders stop selling death
And you've lost all relevance
In the corner, check me reading a paper
Scribing your last will and testament
I'm still here
I'm still here
I'm still here
I'm still here
Man still here
I'm still here
I'm still here, done now