I met with musician and physician Eki Shola on a rainy day. As we sat down, she remarked on the depressed weather. She said it reminded her, with a wistful feeling, of her own native London. I hung on her voice.
Shola speaks pleasantly, with a placeless accent. It restates in every phrase her life’s journey—from posh London’s Jamaican community to California. Her vocal stylings contain the entire African diaspora in America, from jazz singing and soul, to R&B to spoken word. We had gotten together in the rain to talk about her latest album, Kaeru. The themes around which we strolled were music, healing and finding “home.”
Cincinnatus Hibbard: Eki, the album is so singular. You mix your electronic jazz with traditional Japanese artists and instrumentation. Tell me, what was the spark of inspiration?
Eki Shola: The spark was learning the verb “kaeru” in Japanese class. It means “to return home.” And I immediately said, “That’s going to be the name of the next album I do.”
Why do you connect so strongly with Japan of all places?
Each time I return, there is a sense of stillness and peace … and connectivity… As an African-American woman, I can feel more comfortable there than here. Because there is no pretense, no code-switching. You’re not needing to watch your back—you’re just you. And so I realize I feel more at home within myself there. The theme of home resonates through this album.
On your first post-pandemic trip to Japan, you were invited to record there for the first time…
Yes. I had some unfinished material that needed … something—so I was interested in the offer… But what cinched it for me is that the studio used to be an old radiology room. So I had to do it.
I love getting those signs. I understand the producer got you in touch with traditional Japanese musicians. The album seems like you are making a home for yourself there sonically, mixing your bass and electric keys with the traditional shamisen and drums of Japan. I understand that you had been meditating deeply on the theme of home … having lost both your house and your medical clinic in the 2017 Tubbs fire…
Yes … I kept asking myself, what is home? What on earth is home? I was speaking to a friend the other day and asked her if she was “at home.” And she said she doesn’t have a home—in the sense of a house. She house sits; she travels. For her, home is wherever she goes. It’s not out there; home is within her… I like that; I want that. I’m still figuring it out…
One of the tracks on the album, “Forrest,” came out of a meditation within a fire survivors’ support group. Eki, it is common to think of music as healing. As a musician and a doctor, what do you make of that?
Beyond the obvious, there is listening and connection. When a patient comes into your office seeking healing, they don’t know you—you’re a stranger. Within a short period of time, maybe 15 minutes, you have to establish a trust. You have to listen without judgement and be open enough that a person opens up to you about intimate things so you can make a health plan together.
A short set, where people don’t know you, is much the same thing. I never have a fixed set list. I listen to what the audience needs.
Learn more. Hear Shola’s album, ‘Kaeru,’ at ekishola.com.
