Nailah, Life in Session

You could say it's the voice. But it starts long before she opens her mouth. Nailah's presence is Mama. The conduit, the sticky that holds the children together like beeswax, like gospel, like rent paid. And we are the children. We the spirits hungry for music, that kinda music. Remember? The grit filled gut rollin' voice that represented the souf looooong fo TI and nim. That voice that understood the whispered prayers of every nappy head girl smart enough for her mother's kitchen but couldn't pass the paper bag test. Yeah, you remember.

"Nappy hair and mud stained skin/ made it clear from the beginning/ I would never know this world/ from a pretty girl's perspective." These lyrics from "Beautiful Anyway" fell outa Nailah's mouth, and that voice. Honey hush! That voice that makes you remember yourself barefoot in dirt, makes you remember safety like a thunderstorm and you nestled in Daddy's arms with yo mama's biscuits.

My ego cannot resist telling you that I have the blessing of calling this woman friend. Of sitting on her couch and eating her food (all of it), drinking her wine (again, all of it), closing my eyes and listening to her rehearse with her band. Over and over and never enough. There is a room in her home painted red. The ceiling, the walls, red rugs on the floor. That's my favorite room. Her husband Paul (Pablo!) gets on the drums and makes his own magic that compliments her excellently. The butter to her beans. She sits on the piano bench holding the mic and the band members are there. Nailah and Pablo's son and daughter (the talented wonder mites) are running around like this happens every Saturday night in everyone's home, what?

I aint tryina tell what to do or nothin'. But you want to get nailah's cd. You want to be at the next show. If you miss out, don't say I aint never told you nothin'.

NailahMusic.com