Joel Ross, "Gospel Music": Vibrant Jazz Messages
Because his brother once outshone him on the drums, Joel Ross switched to the vibraphone as a child. Today, he is one of the leading figures in his field—a fact he underscores on his new album, *Gospel Music*. On the occasion of his concert on October 24 at Leipzig’s Philippuskirche, Lennart Winterkemper sheds light on Ross’s work, which has always been inspired by the interplay of jazz and spirituality.
"If the hope of giving/is to love the living,/the giver risks madness/in the act of giving."
This describes a profoundly human condition and is, at the same time, Joel Ross’s artistic credo. Or rather: James Baldwin’s. For these beautiful lines come from his poem “The Giver (for Berdis),” which Ross set to music on his album *Gospel Music*, released earlier this year. Here, “gospel” can mean both a genre and a message. So, framed by Baldwin’s poetry, let’s explore what the vibraphonist associates with his new album and perhaps wishes to convey.
Jazz and spirituality have always been closely intertwined—though this connection can take on very different forms. The broad spectrum ranges from hip connoisseurs who practice this music as their own private religion to people who want to use it to express something more—something that often defies words. Joel Ross certainly belongs to the latter group. He was born in 1995 in Chicago, the city that, like few others, epitomizes the blues, jazz, and the emergence of gospel music. In the 1930s, the Baptist church movement ensured that the previously dominant spirituals—that is, the hymns of early African American congregations—were infused with blues and jazz. At the same time, these musical genres were also booming in Chicago: *Downbeat* magazine was published there for the first time, and a long list of great names—such as Jelly Roll Morton and Sun Ra, who enjoyed his most productive creative period here in the 1950s—are inextricably linked to this city and the connection between church music and art music.
"I seemed to see some such lesson/in the faces that surrounded me."
Joel Ross grew up in this city steeped in tradition. He began playing the drums at the age of two—and soon began playing for the church congregation as well. His brother surpassed him in skill—which is why, as he later said in an interview, he switched to the vibraphone. These early musical experiences had a profound impact on him: the sacred meaning of music lies in bringing people together. What his surroundings at that time instilled in him remains his goal to this day: “When we’re about to perform, it’s not for ourselves; we’re coming together to work toward a higher purpose—to set the stage for worship, for fellowship, and for the betterment of everyone there.”
Fast-forward a few years, and Ross now performs in churches only occasionally—he has long since taken the world stage. He may have become known to many since he first appeared as a sideman for Makaya McCraven. For several years now, however, he has also made a name for himself as a bandleader on the Blue Note label. Starting with the 2019 album *KingMaker*, through the highly acclaimed *nublues* and *The Parable of the Poet*, all the way to this year’s *Gospel Music*—his fifth release on the label—one can certainly speak of a substantial body of work. Nevertheless, he continues to work as a sideman; most recently, he could be heard on Little North’s chamber music masterpiece “Crossing Currents.”
"The giver is no less adrift/than those who are clamoring for the gift."
“Gospel Music” consists of seventeen tracks: all of them are simple and tinged with a touch of melancholy. Ross is no prophet who shouts out a supposed truth. The soft, subdued timbre of the vibraphone exerts its persuasive power not through vehemence, but through calm and restraint. His mallets rarely come to the forefront. Instead, the album is defined by “vamps”—repeating melodic and harmonic sequences—over which his band members can improvise. This creates an extraordinary pull that is hard to resist. And even though one might not immediately associate this instrument with a church, the individual notes that blend into one another have something of a choir about them, whose parts merge into a larger whole. As a result, the overall sound sometimes becomes indistinct, but the rhythmic precision of Ross’s playing more than makes up for it.
Many of the songs are original compositions; thus, they do not draw—or draw only indirectly—from the canon of Black church music, as the album title might suggest. Only “A Little Love Goes a Long Way” is a traditional gospel song. In “Trinity (Father, Son, and Holy Spirit)” or “Protoevangelium (The First Gospel),” the religious reference is obvious—at least from the titles. Upon listening, one primarily perceives the jazz tradition; the style is classical (in the best sense of the word). In addition to the Baldwin poem mentioned at the beginning, there is also a tribute to Barry Harris, arguablytheleading authority on jazz harmony. What is expressed here is not merely derived from biblical motifs, but is as deeply personal as it is rooted in the history of jazz.
"If they cannot claim it, if it is not there,/if their empty fingers beat the empty air"
To ears that consider themselves enlightened, it may sound somewhat peculiar when someone today explores their own religiosity through music. Music as an art form, however, has always had a way of harboring a transcendent remnant of the unspeakable. And that has been—depending on one’s perspective—the unspeakable, the Absolute, or, to use another name: God. Be that as it may: in the modern era, people no longer believe in it because they do not believe in anything that the natural sciences do not support. The dire predictions of cultural critics do not bode well, for there seem to be no ways out or refuges—or perhaps there are—in art?
It could not be more fitting that the Jazzbotschaften are being presented at the Philippuskirche. This secularized building represents a place where sacred heritage meets cultural events, and this project has found a venue that truly resonates with it. It has been announced that the ensemble will perform without vocals. For the album’s standout tracks, such as the Baldwin arrangement, that would be a shame—yet it’s also exciting to see what inexpressible wisdom will be conveyed instrumentally instead.
