It’s hard to say whether Saul Williams meets Carlos Niño & Friends at TreePeople is an album in the traditional sense. It ticks some of the boxes: it’s an hour or so of music, recorded by a very talented group of musicians, and released by a record label (and not just any old record label either – this one’s on the inimitable Chicago institution International Anthem). But after that, things get a bit less clear, a bit more difficult to define. The recording is described as a ‘sound ceremony’. Digging a little deeper reveals that it’s a kind of political happening that involves jazz, poetry, activism, new age music, the celebration of place and the creation and bonding of a community. TreePeople, recorded live in LA’s Coldwater Canyon Park, is a conceptual document, and also a compassionate one. For want of a better word, we’ll continue to call it an album.
One look at the CVs of its creators will give you some idea as to the breadth of the album’s ambition. Saul Williams is a filmmaker and a poet. He has composed a sci-fi musical. He is an actor on TV and on Broadway. His musical exploits involve collaborations with Trent Reznor and Rick Rubin, and he has worked in genres as diverse as contemporary composition, hip-hop and punk. Carlos Niño’s musical history is no less impressive. He has worked as a producer and percussionist for André 3000. He is a prolific composer who thrives on collaboration, and his music has taken him into the orbit of Laaraji, Idris Ackamoor, Adam Rudolph and countless other luminaries of the experimental jazz scene and beyond. His ‘Friends’, on this album at least, include Nate Mercereau, Aaron Shaw, Andres Renteria, Maia the Artiste, Francesca Heart and Kamasi Washington.
The album is made up of four long, improvised pieces and a shorter afterword. It’s too simple to say that the music acts as a backdrop to Williams’ poetry; rather, the two seem to exist symbiotically, growing out of the same physical and political landscape. The first section, Sounds Then Words, begins with a hum and a series of percussive shakes and jangles. Williams’ words tap into both the geographical present and the social-historical past, combining the two in a way that seems to describe and interpret different possible futures. Colonialism and its crimes against indigenous peoples and the environment are among his core concerns. His delivery goes from languid to intense, quickening, wandering, delighting in natural phenomena, appealing to love and to a higher spiritual power. The music too takes its cue from spiritual jazz, the flutes and synths and sax winding in and out of each other, growing and retreating, while the two percussionists – Niño and Renteria – create and curate the space, which seems at times like a firmament and at times like a detailed terrestrial landscape.
This musical world-building (or rather universe-building) continues into the next piece, We would lift our Voice…, which begins gently, almost tentatively. A smoky sax accompanies Williams on a nocturnal journey, before wild background voices usher us towards stranger musical shores. Drums crash like waves, Williams builds up powerful images of struggle and protest and an appeal for peace. We are calling out in this moment… is more fraught, urgent and immediate. Williams’ poetry reveals the influence of conscious hip-hop and Gil Scott-Heron, but he attains a greater depth and detail than his forebears. He rails against the climate crisis, racial inequality and land crime, always aware that these things are intrinsically linked. It is an eloquent calling-out of the hypocrisy of America and Americans, and an impassioned rallying cry for the power of community.
The Water is Rising/as we surpass the firing squad, the last of the long pieces, is perhaps the most powerful. Here, the album reaches a kind of climax, not in the traditional sense of increase or reduplication, but in terms of the overall narrative. Williams gives way to guest poet aja monet, whose deceptively calm words tell a richly descriptive story of apocalyptic flood. Then Williams takes the mic again, alchemising violence into spirituality and peace, as woodwind and brass take flight around him, as if leaving this world for a better one. We have work to do, the fierce, hopeful finale, comes in the form of Williams’ openhearted monologue. He has a gift of kindling revolutionary thought through a sense of responsibility, to the land and to each other. It’s a message his country – and the rest of the world – needs to hear, and on this beautiful, angry and groundbreaking live album, he gets that message across with unrivalled eloquence.
Saul Williams meets Carlos Niño & Friends at TreePeople (August 28th, 2025) International Anthem
UPCOMING SHOWS
Saturday September 27th – Walk The Block Festival – Seattle WA
Tuesday September 30th – Yoshi’s (night 1) – Oakland CA
Wednesday October 1st – Yoshi’s (night 2) – Oakland CA
Thursday October 2nd – TreePeople (night 1) – Los Angeles CA
Saturday October 4th – TreePeople (night 2) – Los Angeles CA
Monday October 13th – City Winery (night 1) – Atlanta GA
Tuesday October 14th – City Winery (night 2) – Atlanta GA
Wednesday October 15th – Neighborhood Theatre – Charlotte NC
Thursday October 16th – Black Cat – Washington DC
Friday October 17th – City Winery – Philadelphia PA
Sunday October 19th – Sultan Room – Brooklyn NY
Thursday November 6th – Pitchfork Festival – London UK
Saturday November 15th – Le Guess Who? Festival – Utrecht NL