It’s a big deal to me when someone who identifies with Sikhism hits the mainstream music scene. I’m not sure if this is truly the case with the guy I’m about to rave about or not, but he certainly looks Sikh. Dr. Lonnie Smith is a world renowned Hammond B3 player. He is very well known in the jazz world and is considered the “Godfather of the B3″. He was born to an African American family in Buffalo, NY. No interviews that I’ve read talk about when he started wearing a turban, but he shares some of the same sentiment about the turban that I have often felt.
“Personally, I’m looking forward to a time when my local racist assholes decide to yell “Lonnie Smith” at me as they drive by, rather than “Osama” or “Saddam” or “Raghead” or “Diaperhead” or “Sand N—er” whatever the f- – - floats into their minds at that moment. Then I’ll know that turbans have really made it. Until such a time, I’ll have to content myself with the fact that Lonnie Smith is one damn fine looking man with his turban and beard, and that the racists here hate me (in part) because I’m beautiful.”
I feel a need to educate people about Sikhism (or even something about Islam!) because the ignorance I have faced is overwhelming. Last week, I was walking down the 3rd street promenade in Santa Monica, when a guy who I think was homeless yelled “Hey towelhead!” Generally I let comments like that go. I understand that people are ignorant as to what Sikhism is and say these things out of fear, but this time I was rather disappointed. Most of the homeless people that I encounter are really respectful of the fact that I wear a turban. It’s usually someone in the general populus who calls me something derogatory. When this man called out to me, I had already passed him on the street. So I turned around a shot him a “do you REALLY mean that?” look. I hope he got the message. You can never be sure who you’re dealing with. The person who stops you on the street just might be a person who could change your life. Even Guru Ram Das pretended to be poor at night to test his disciples. One of my favorite— and I say favorite in a sardonic way— of the encounters was actually in Asheville, North Carolina. I was with Sukhmani Singh, Siri Dattar Singh, and Karta Purkh Kaur from Knoxville, Tennessee at the time. We were walking down the street when a lady (who was probably drunk) came up to us and asked “Are you American?!” Our response, of course was “Yes. We are.” To which she said “I thought so…” and she walked away angrily. I have also been asked “Are you a terrorist?” Of course not homes, but if I had been, I don’t think it was smart of you to ask me. The turban acts like a mirror— just by walking into a room I can view how scared people are, how accepting they are, or just how curious the are (this is of course assuming that it’s my turban talking and not some other cause such as body odor). The problem is that most of the time, I’m the only one looking. Anyway, Dr. Lonnie Smith. He rocks. Check out his album Jungle Soul. The title track almost sounds like classical Indian music with a funky jazz backbeat. 
The second musician with a turban is a personal favorite of mine and was actually a Nubian Muslim who played the Oud. His name was Hamza el Din, and he was truly a beautiful man and musician. He was an inspiration to The Grateful Dead as well as the Kronos Quartet. He actually played with the Dead in 1978 at Egypt’s Great Pyramid of Giza and then joined them back in San Francisco at Winterland. I had the great honor of meeting him when I was in the 8th grade. A friend of mine named Ahmed Ali Bob was from Sudan and was friends with Hamza el Din through their Mosque. My middle school was very big on the arts and liked to have guests, so Ahmed got Hamza to come in and play for us. Hamza had radiant dark black skin and the most kind, gentle voice. The usually rowdy 300 students were absolutely silent for probably an hour and a half while he played and taught us about Nubian and Arab music. He explained that his music contained complex compound rhythms (which he got everyone to understand) and also that his scales contained quarter tones. He said “on your pianos you have white keys and black keys. To make our scale, you need to cut each key in half. Between every black and white key, there would be another note.” 6 years later, I remember those words verbatum. When he spoke or performed, it was like time stopped and this warm music filled the hall.
That leads me to my PICK OF THE WEEK.
This week’s pick is Hamza el Din’s “A Wish“. This is an absolute masterpiece of an album. Hamza el Din shows that he is a master storyteller— even though all of the lyrics are in Arabic and Nubian languages. The recording is so intimate and pure it lulls you into a trance. Everything from the melodies to the drums to the flutes and harmonies sucks you in. It is an album that I love listening to in the dark with headphones. It’s simply magical and will take you to a distant land.
Favorite tracks: Greetings, Griffin
