Christian Scott is a Grammy Award-nominated trumpeter, composer, and producer. The nephew of Jazz Saxophonist Donald Harrison, Scott has been called “Jazz’s young style God,” after receiving critical acclaim for both his progressive sound as well as his innovative fashion sense. His most recognizable attribute is a practice known as the “whisper technique,” a tone shift contradictory to that of other trumpeters. As a band leader, he has release four albums to date, including 2012’s Christian aTunde Adjuah.

Placing Christian Scott is difficult. On the surface, he is simply a musician. What complicates this narrative is his approach. He is a walking art exhibit; his sensibilities conjuring memories of jazz countercultural past. His New Orleans birthright prescribes that he plays the music of his ancestors, which he does quite remarkably, I might add. …

An Extended Selection — Descent (An Introduction to Self Care)

accompanying musical selections:

Solange — “Borderline (An Ode To Self Care),” A Seat at the Table (2016)

Horace Silver — “Peace,” That Healin’ Feelin’ (1970)

Quelle Chris feat. Aye Pee — “Buddies,” Being You Is Great, I Wish I Could Be You More Often (2017)

Flying Lotus feat. Thundercat — “Descent Into Madness,” You’re Dead! (2014)

Nina Simone — “I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel To Be Free,” Live in Montreux (1967)

John Coltrane — “Mars,” Interstellar Space (1974)

The Roots feat. Amber Coffman, Angel Deradoorian, Haley Dekle — “A Peace Of Light,” How I Got Over…

A Brief Selection — “Requiem for a Rainy Day”

Accompanying musical selections:

The City of Prague Philharmonic Orchestra — “Proloque (from ‘Tristan und Isolde: Prelude’),” Melancholia Original Soundtrack (2011)

Bill Evans & Jim Hall — “My Man’s Gone Now,” Intermodulation (1966)

Ambrose Akinmusire — “Henya,” When The Heart Emerges Glistening (2011)

Frank Ocean — “Wither,” Endless (2016)

King Krule — “The Cadet Leaps,” The OOZ (2017)

Billie Holiday — “Gloomy Sunday - Take 1,” The Essential Billie Holiday (1941)

James Blake — “DLM,” Overgrown (2013)

Duke Ellington & John Coltrane — “My Little Brown Book,” Duke Ellington & John Coltrane…

A Late Night Selection — “Lullaby in Two Movements”

Accompanying Musical Selections:

A Tribe Called Quest — “Midnight Marauders Tour Guide,” Midnight Marauders (1993)

Sly and the Family Stone — “There’s A Riot Goin’ On,” There’s A Riot Goin’ On (1971)

Bobby “Blue” Bland — “Ain’t No Love In The Heart of the City,” Dreamer (1974)

Vulpeck — “Zz,” Sleepify (2014)

Gabriel Garzón-Montano — “Lullaby,” Jardin (2017)

John Lennon & Yoko Ono — “Two Minutes of Silence,” Unfinished Music №2: Life with the Lions (1969)

Black Star feat. Common — “Respiration,” Mos Def and Talib Kweli Are Black Star (1998)

I am sitting in a bedroom that I once called my own. Today, it is borrowed space. …

An Extended Selection — “Live in Dear Old Stockholm”

Accompanying Musical Selections:

John Coltrane — “Dear Old Stockholm,” Impressions (Reissue) (1963)

Yasiin Bey — “Ms. Fat Booty,” Black On Both Sides (1999)

The Game — “Runnin’,” The Documentary (2005)

D’Angelo — “Brown Sugar,” Live at the Cirkus, Stockholm (2000)

Rīgas Gospelkoris — “Don’t Cry,” Live Performance (2017)

Nas — “The World Is Yours,” Illmatic (1994)

The dimly lit streets lay barren. It’s not particularly late, but it is a school night — a construct understood in any language. Our bodies have long forgotten how to tell time, buoyed in a purgatory found somewhere over the Atlantic. We shuffle along the cobblestone — exhausted, cold, but hopelessly optimistic. Our journey is not yet complete, but we have progressed — the wayfaring stranger(s). …

An Extended Selection:
“Self-Portraits in Exploitation”

accompanying musical selections:

Billy Strayhorn — “Lush Life,” The Peaceful Side (1963)

Max Roach — “Equipoise,” Members, Don’t Git Weary (1968)

Duke Ellington — “Money Jungle,” Money Jungle (1962)

Charles Mingus — “Self-Portrait in Three Colors,” Mingus Ah Um (1959)

There is no greater reflection of human nature than the American city. With painstaking detail, we construct colossal monuments whose arms stretch out to God, and yet are worshipped as gods themselves. Slumped at the feet of the Father are the material realities of this grandeur, hands too, outstretched, begging for a dollar. With a learned resilience, we do as the city has taught us and ignore this Hell below because even Darwin had to acknowledge the paradox of altruism. It is brutal, but it is also honest. Such a level of self-awareness typically comes with a $200/hour price tag. However, there is no couch on which the city can find its salvation. Only through the expressions of its occupants do we find grace. Beyond every landmark of indifference, around the corner lies the rhythmic touch of sticks to buckets or feet to cardboard or voice to open air. And for just a moment, we stop and we stare, together, reflecting on the beauty of us. These microcosms of life are what compel me to go out into the city and capture it to the best of my ability. …

In 2003, Dipset was everything. The pink polo assigned to me by my newfound prep school proclivities were the closest that I would ever get to being Cameron Giles. But in my dreams, diamond-encrusted medallions hung low, overwhelming the paisley crown adorning my head — necessities of a ghetto prince. But that was then and this is now. It’s 2013 and out of the corner of my eye, I catch the waning moments of YouTube’s most successful parody.

Fake “Harlem Shake” in the cut; that’s a scary sight.

It’s a fitting backdrop to the 10th Anniversary of Diplomatic Immunity. The idea itself is nothing new. The reappropriation of urban culture existed well before Dipset and will continue to live on as long as poor black folks continue to flood the streets with that proverbial “work.” So, don’t get the game twisted. When I talk about this album, this supergroup, I am so damn serious. This isn’t a fashion statement; some ironic homage provided courtesy of modern hipster sensibilities. For us, Dipset was a blueprint. Diplomatic Immunity was the soundtrack to everything we wanted to be — for better or for worse. …

A Brief Selection: “Her Keys”

accompanying musical selection:

Claude Debussy — Préludes, Book 1., L. 117, No. 8: La fille aux cheveux de lin

I was never allowed to touch my grandmother’s piano. Standing at an even five feet, this black woman’s stature belies a formidable presence. She isn’t a mean woman, quite the opposite, in fact. In the twenty-seven years of being her grandson, I cannot think of a single moment in which she raised her voice, and yet, when she speaks, we listen. So, when she told me that the piano wasn’t “for play,” I knew I didn’t want and/or need those problems. Growing up, our home was a place where all types of music were readily accessible. For every Patrice Rushen record my mother played, I, too, heard Debussy. Unbeknownst to her, my grandmother had passed down this affinity for classical music via a “made for TV” boxset, ranging from “The Age of Baroque” to “The Romantic Composers.” In secrecy, I met with these sounds, all the while worried that Hip-Hop may discover my infidelity. Our relationship had a lasting effect: In my remedial understanding of the piano, I’ve only ever committed one piece of music to memory — Brahms’ Symphony No.3 in F Major, Op.90. Blame it on, Ruby. She never kept favorites, but in my young eyes, I knew my place. The only thing she loves more than me is God and the only thing she loves more than a gentle nocturne is the liturgical minimalism of an Anglican choir. …