Like a Ship (Without a Sail)

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Every once in a while, a record will rise to the surface and open your ears to a new kind of sound. Not a new genre or fad, but a whole new depth of listening. The sound bubbling out of the grooves loosens whatever preconceived notions of the rocky world of auditory waves you may have built for yourself. And this sturdy wax raft can deliver you from dark shores to a bright future. Pastor T. L. Barrett Jr. is the perfect captain to weather the storms and bring this ship home safely. 

Born in Jamaica, Queens, in 1944, Barrett bounced between his birthplace and Chicago, where he struggled to survive the infamous Chicago Housing Authority projects. He eventually settled in Chicago and was soon called to pastor the Mt. Zion Baptist Church in 1968. It was a tumultuous year for America with the murders of Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert F. Kennedy. Tensions had hit the high-water mark and riots threatened to drown Chicago when it hosted the Democratic National Convention that summer; Pastor Barrett could hear the sound on the horizon. The sound of anger, of change, the sound of soul—it was all around him in the Windy City, and it began to swell in him as he built his vessel over the next few years.

When it was finally seaworthy, Barrett knew he had something; the music was raw and funky, but he took a lot of flak for working with young, nonprofessional singers. He held fast, knowing that they were the crew for him if he intended on making the songs come alive the way he heard them rippling over the waters. Like any good captain, he knew he would need some experienced hands to help him keep on course. So he picked up some Chicago heavyweights along his travels: Phil Upchurch and Richard Evans (bass), Charles Pittman and Stanley Fox (drums), and supervision from Gene Barge. But the writing and arrangements are all T.L.'s; as it says in the liner notes, "He plays what he hears and writes what he feels." Like a Ship… is a testament; it lurches forward on a soft wave of tambourines that sound like chains hitting a hull. The powerful rhythm section lifts Barrett's simple, melodic keyboard riff high, as the boisterous choir fills the air with sorrow and hope. His ship may not have had a sail, but he knew he could make it.  © Robbie Busch / In partnership with Wax Poetics