The one and only Taj Mahal
The legend was here; my impressions from this winter in Cuba
Taj Mahal played Cape Cod Melody Tent Sunday June 1 with Keb’ Mo’, who some see as his heir (though Mo’ is past 70 himself), extending a line Taj traces back “nearly 100 generations, seriously” from Africa threading through the Deep South, Caribbean and Americas — by way of New York and Massachusetts far as Taj goes.
The show sold out, as befits a legend. An extra treat: Taj’s daughters joined in.
I had the great good fortune to be around him in Cuba this winter, a short odyssey I’ve recounted previously (A Musical Journey, Cape Cod to Cuba) though not including Taj impressions.
What was proximity like? Here’s a snippet while sitting on the dock of a bay (nod to Otis Redding) on the outskirts of Havana:
He’s been part of the American soundtrack for so long we no longer even wonder about his name. Taj Mahal, really? Was there a Mr. and Mrs. Mahal who had a sense of humor?
No no. Henry St. Claire Fredericks Jr. was born May 17, 1942, in New York City. Raised in Springfield Massachusetts, his father Henry Sr. was a Caribbean musician and arranger (who died when Henry Jr. was 11), his mother rooted in gospel and the church choir.
Teenager Henry dreamed of Mahatma Gandhi and India, so adopted the outrageous name Taj Mahal when he started performing as an undergrad at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst. Taj’s major; animal husbandry, with veterinary science and agronomy mixed in.
To this day he says he would have become a farmer if music hadn’t won out. Thankfully for audiences, it did.
Taj studied great blues guitar players, often building alternating bass thumb lines like Mississippi John Hurt. He bridged generations playing with mythological characters — Howlin’ Wolf, Muddy Waters, Lightening Hopkins. His father’s Caribbean context stuck with him, made him aware of inflections and beats, “the ancestors talking to me” as he puts it:
We met when he headlined the first WOMR Music Food & Wine Fest in the 1990s, also at the Melody Tent, a moment I remember well (Coolest Cape Musical Moments) but of course he had no reason to.
What struck me in Cuba was how deeply he had rooted, moving slowly now like a mahogany tree would if it could (sitting most of the time), touring into his 80s, a musical ambassador who refuses to draw lines between forms or nations:
“Blues, Caribbean, Central American, that’s all our ancestors,” he told a rapt crowd at a morning symposium in downtown Havana, gravelly voice at deep register. “Brazil, Cuba, Colombia, Venezuela, Panama, Nicaragua, Belize, all of that (musically) is a big family, totally connected. This is an unbroken tradition that traces back to West Africa in the 11th or 12th century, an empire of music. Our ancestors pushed it down the line. This is the most important thing.
“And notice something: When an empire is built on money, it diminishes over time, the return becomes less. With music it’s just the opposite.”
Who talks like this, conjuring insights we don’t know we know?
That would be Taj Mahal.
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First heard Taj Mahal In DC as a high school senior in 1966!!! Could drink at 18!!!
Ah he wrote our wedding song - Farther on Down the Road. Seen him a few times at Fest, always, always a transcending experience. Long live Taj!