When the Music Teaches the Musician
- J Plunky Branch
- 6 days ago
- 2 min read
Updated: 6 days ago
An Evolution in Sound, Community, and Consciousness
There are moments in the continuum of Black music when a band is not just a band
it is a vessel. A laboratory.
A mirror.
And sometimes, a teacher
This is one of those moments.
San Francisco: Conception of a Sound (1971)
The group Juju was born in San Francisco in 1971 - not out of industry ambition, but out of necessity. The necessity to create a sound that reflected a deeper cultural and spiritual alignment.
This was not simply jazz.
This was African Astro-Fusion - a sonic language that reached backward into ancestral memory while stretching forward into cosmic imagination. The instrumentation was rooted in jazz, but the intention was African. Percussion was not decorative - it was foundational. The saxophone did not just play melodies - it cried, called, and testified.
Juju was not trying to fit into a category.
It was trying to restore a continuum.
New York: The Loft Jazz Crucible
By the early 1970s, we migrated to New York City, stepping directly into what would become known as the loft jazz scene - a self-determined, artist-run movement where musicians reclaimed space, audience, and agency.
In these lofts, music was free in every sense of the word: free from commercial constraints, free from rigid form, and free to explore identity, politics, and spirit.
It was here that Juju sharpened its identity as an Afro-centric, forward-moving jazz ensemble - not just performing music, but defining it.
Recording the Vision
In 1973, we documented that vision with our first album, Juju: A Message from Mozambique, released on Strata-East Records. One year later, in 1974, after returning to Richmond, Virginia, we recorded our second album, Juju Chapter Two: Nia.
Richmond: Where Theory Meets Community
By 1975, a hard truth began to emerge. There was not an unlimited market in Richmond, Virginia for avant-garde African free jazz - especially the kind driven by screaming saxophone, dense percussion, and open improvisation.
But while our mission was to impact the community, something unexpected happened: the community began to impact us.
Adaptation Without Surrender
We did not abandon our vision - we expanded it. We began to incorporate elements that spoke more directly to the people.
We brought in drummer Ronnie Taylor, whose deep funk sensibility grounded the music in groove, and electric guitarist Melvin Glover, who introduced textures aligned with R&B and Southern soul traditions.
The Voice That Transformed the Band
Then came Jackie Holomon, known as Lady Eka-Eté. Her voice softened the edges of the music, made it more lyrical, and invited people in. The addition of her vocal presence transformed the band’s sound and broadened its appeal.
The Realization
With that transformation came clarity. Jazz, funk, R&B, soul, and African rhythm were never separate - they were all expressions of the same source.
The Renaming
We changed the name from Juju to The Oneness of Juju.
Because all Black music is African music, and all African-derived music exists on a continuum.
Different forms. Different functions. Different audiences.
But one root. One spirit. One continuum.
Closing Reflection
What began as an avant-garde African jazz ensemble became something broader and more inclusive - not because the vision changed, but because the understanding matured.
The music kept teaching.
And we listened.
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