#30 STORIES FROM THE EDGE OF MUSIC: SHAKURA S’AIDA
Born in Brooklyn, raised in Switzerland and a long-time Toronto resident, she’s Canada’s Ambassador of the Blues
“So,” Shakura S’Aida told me on the phone, “I’ve been booked on something called the Legendary Rhythm and Blues Cruise. It sails out of Fort Lauderdale in Florida. I’m allowed to have a guest.
“D’you want to come?”
However geriatric the whole idea of a cruise seemed, the opportunity to escape a Canadian winter in January 2007 was irresistible. “There is a catch, though,” Shakura added; I waited. “You’ll have to share a cabin with me.”
And, I thought, I’d also be sharing with at least half-dozen stage dresses and countless pairs of shoes. Needless to say, I accepted instantly.
I’d be hanging out with one of the most joyful artists I have ever met.
Shakura is a Toronto-based artist who breaks all the false clichés about Black women singers whose work expands the blues idiom. She is tall, elegant, speaks three languages, and has two remarkable daughters.
She is also is an accomplished actor, remarkably well read, and always stunningly dressed on or off stage; long feathered earrings have become a spectacular identifier. Her dog, Brooklyn, is an amiable black Russian terrier, and weighs nearly as much as its owner. When Shakura walks the dog in High Park, it’s the only time you’ll see her in sweat pants and T-shirts.
She is also the most international of Canadian artists: born in Brooklyn, raised in Switzerland, and long-time resident of Toronto. In recent years she has performed in 36 different countries, including Albania, Australia, Bulgaria, Dubai, France (often twice a year), Germany, Italy, Jamaica, Romania, Rwanda, Switzerland (where she went to school), throughout the United States and from one side of Canada to the other.
Who’s who on a blues cruise?
I had only been on an ocean liner once in my life — when I brought my young bride to Canada in the fall of 1957 — and the first impression as we lined up in the dockside reception shed to board the ship was how huge the vessel was.
Wandering around the ship, I discovered a dozen performance areas — from a well-equipped concert hall to an intimate piano bar. A huge outdoor stage, near the swimming pool, attracted crowds all day long, while a much smaller stage, in the ship’s library, was always packed.
Our cabin was tiny. Shakura’s giant suitcases took up a lot of room, but there was a balcony, which allowed for impromptu but cramped band rehearsals.
In addition to 3,000 passengers, there were more than 20 bands and individual artists. Most of them were six- or seven-piece groups fronted by long-haired blues-rock guitarists, volume turned up way past 11 — but there were notable exceptions.
Matt Andersen, the portly guitarist from Nova Scotia, was on his third cruise (and he’s been back almost every year since) and earned standing ovations after his second or third number, every time he played.
Taj Mahal, the American roots music artist who has been recording since the ’60s (and is apparently one of the owners of the cruise company) was the lone “elder” of the floating blues community: playing occasionally, sitting in with other bands, and taking part in workshops.
And there was the young woman pianist from Mississippi who led the after-hours jam that usually started around 2 a.m. Downing the latest of many drinks bought for her by fans and fellow musicians, she launched into her best Jerry Lee Lewis impression, standing as she hammered the keyboard with her right foot. Seated at the end of the grand piano, I noticed that she seemed to be underwear-challenged.
Bettye Lavette, one of the most distinctive of all the former Motown artists—who came into her own years after that Detroit scene had faded into near-oblivion—added an element of sheer class to the proceedings. Gracious, smiling and confident, she called everyone “bay-be” which, apart from being endearing, meant that she never had to remember anyone’s name.
A long journey to a cruise
Shakura’s journey to get to that 2007 cruise took a long time. She played amateur shows at the Apollo in Harlem, and survived. There were stints as a backup singer with Patti LaBelle and Ruth Brown and jazz organist Jimmy Smith.
After moving to Canada, she sang with a 13-piece world music band and was mentored by leaders of Toronto’s Black community — among them Howard Mathews, musicians Archie Alleyne and Brooke Blackburn, singers Salome Bey and Jackie Richardson. She made her first record in 2004, and she hated it so much that she didn’t make another until eight years later.
Mind you, there was theatre, film and television work aplenty, and her career as an actress kept her busy — a career which culminated post-COVID with continuing roles in Schitt’s Creek and Batwoman.
Today, four albums later, she tours relentlessly, especially in Europe; how many Canadian singers have performed in Moscow as well as Montreal? As this is written, she’s playing in the leading Paris jazz club following dates in Spain. A few months ago, when she told me she’d played dates in Albania — surely one of the least-known of all eastern European countries — I had to Google it to find out exactly where it is.
A performance (like a cruise liner) can sometimes blow off-course
Back on the cruise, the ship’s 700-seat concert hall was chosen for Shakura’s first major appearance on board. Her concert was an object lesson on what can sometimes go wrong, and how a smart, experienced artist soldiers on and overcomes onstage obstacles.
To begin the show, her elaborate “here I am” play-on song entrance was spoiled when her crack band accidentally launched into the wrong tune, realized their error, and quickly rolled into the right piece.
Then, three songs into the set, the sound system cut out for a shipboard announcement about missing passengers from the last port of call (San Juan, Puerto Rico); Shakura simply kept singing and walked out into the audience so they could hear her above the longwinded announcement.
Then she made a commonplace performance error: she responded to a request from the audience for an Etta James song that was not on her set list. “No, I can’t do that,” she explained. “Bettye Lavette did that song last night and I can’t possibly match that.”
Despite that, she launched into what she hoped would be a short extract from “I’d Rather Go Blind,” but the band kept playing until she’d done the entire song. There went the carefully planned set list, and the seamless flow of the entire show.
Finally, as she sang the final song in the set, Bettye Lavette walked out from the audience and — to Shakura’s complete surprise since they had not met at that point — turned it into a call-and-response duet.
The audience erupted into applause; Canada’s most international of blues singers had conquered another audience.
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YOUR WEEKEND VIDEO LINKS
Here’s Shakura showing how to get the audience involved — a song from her show this week at the Paris club New Morning.
Last week, I heard of the Mip Power Trio for the first time, though they’ve been around the Toronto scene for a long time. They knocked me out — where have they been (or, more important) how come I’m so late to the party?! This old folk tune isn’t where the band is normally at — but the energy and charisma are undeniable.
This is my friend Loryn Taggart’s most charming song — I could see Serena Ryder recording this. Shot in a single take, it’s one of my favourites. Loryn’s auditioning for Mariposa tomorrow, has a showcase at NXNE in Toronto, and is playing the Ottawa Blues Festival. Oh, yes, and she’ll sing at my big birthday party at Lula Lounge on June 24!
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HOW THIS SUBSTACK IS DOING
I started this regular Substack last September, and this is the 30th edition. As I finish this week’s instalment, I now have 527 subscribers, and another 25-odd followers; about 30 new subscribers join every month. And 77 subscribers actually support this financially, for which I am profoundly grateful. Thank you to every one of the 555 people who have signed up for this.