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root salad f22


Ranky Tanky In the coastal lowlands of south-east USA, the


name means ‘work it!’, discovers Tony Montague. R


anky Tanky play music from the coastal lowlands and islands of the south-east US, home to the Gullah people – the descendants


of black slaves brought across the Atlantic to work in the incredibly harsh conditions of the rice-fields. Due to their relative isola- tion from other communities and influ- ences, the Gullah developed a unique cul- tural hybrid out of their diverse origins – one with its own distinctive language and artistic heritage.


“Many people – from northern Florida to the southern part of North Carolina – would have a direct connection you’d iden- tify as Gullah, and the language is still spo- ken in parts of downtown Charleston and North Charleston,” says Charles Singleton, trumpet player with Ranky Tanky. “Further down the coast around Beaufort and some of the islands there are people who still live that lifestyle and speak Gullah. My own grandfather Edward Singleton – we call him Big Daddy – was born on Capers Island. Around 1896 a big hurricane hit, and he and his family got on a raft and floated over to where my [Charleston] neighbourhood is now – Awendaw, where I live.”


Ranky Tanky take traditional songs and rhymes of the Gullah and give them bold contemporary settings and arrangements. The quintet formed in late 2016 after Sin-


gleton and three Charleston friends, who had played some years previously as jazz outfit Gradual Lean, teamed up with pow- erfully voiced singer Quiana Parler, explor- ing new musical territories for what Single- ton calls the “Gullah rhythm” which per- vades the local soundscape.


“I grew up listening to it in church, and it always seems to be present – even in the way people around Charleston would play other music. You’d find that beat someplace in there. In New Orleans they have a similar but slightly different beat they call ‘the big four’. In songs of ours like Join The Band you can hear the rhythm clearly,” says Singleton, then he hums the melody – syncopated, and accented on the first beat: “Dum ti dum-dum, dum ti dum- dum”. It could be a fast song, a mid-tempo song, a slow song. “Our drummer Quentin [Baxter] maintains – and I agree with him – that the Gullah rhythm is almost impossi- ble to write down, because it’s not just notes on the page. It’s a feel, with differ- ent nuances here and there.”


Ranky Tanky imaginatively draw out these nuances on their self-titled debut, released in late 2017 to critical acclaim – top- ping the Billboard, iTunes and Amazon Jazz Charts in the US. Ranky Tanky is also the title of one of the tracks. Clearly the Gullah expression provides a key to the band.


“The loose translation is ‘work it!’” says Singleton. “If you listen to the chorus –


Pain in my hands, ranky tanky – you work it, you move your hands to get that pain out. / Pain in my legs, ranky tanky – so you shake your legs. / Pain in my head, ranky tanky – you move your head around. / Pain all over me – you dance around.”


“You’re trying to get rid of that pain.


You work it. You get funky with it. You move. You groove.”


“W


e gave the rhyme a melody, put chords behind it, and added our rhythm. With our


instrumentation – stand-up bass, trumpet, guitar, drums – and our influences as jazz musicians, and gospel musicians, and folk musicians, rhythm and blues musicians, and all of those experiences that we’ve had playing in other formations, when you wrap them all up and put it into the Ranky Tanky ensemble it comes out as something unique. Let’s say Quiana starts singing the song, and we figure out the key that she’s in, and then Kevin decides to make up a bass line to go with that, and then Clay puts some chords behind it. Quinton decides to put this beat on it because that’s what he’s feeling at the moment. That’s where our jazz influence comes out. We let our own instincts take it over, and go from there.”


There’s a dark blue streak in the soulful


Sink ’Em Low – a work song, probably from the penitentiaries and chain gangs, that brilliantly encapsulates a life of struggle in a few short words, like its opening verses:


“If you want to please your captain, sink ‘em low boy, raise ‘em high / I asked that judge what would be my price, he said ‘If I don’t hang you, I’ll give you ninety- nine.”


According to Singleton many of us know things – recipes, expressions, songs – from the Gullah community, but don’t recognise those origins. “One example in music is Kumbaya, also Michael Row The Boat Ashore. And You Gotta Move, covered by the Stones [on Sticky Fingers], which is also on our album.” He sees Gullah influ- ence deeply ingrained in African-American music. “We’re celebrating a culture that oftentimes didn’t get a chance to express itself freely. When you’d go to a ‘praise- house’, as it was called, you’d have people that would sing these songs, and they’d improvise – whether with rhythms or vocal- ly. You could argue that’s the origin of jazz. It goes really far back.”


rankytanky.com F


Photo: Peter Frank Edwards


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