By Stuart Broomer
    I first listened to Onilu on Blue  Monday, January 20th, 2025,
    the most depressing day of the year, at  least according to a notion
    invented by a British travel company a few years  ago. In Toronto, the high
    temperature for the day was -6° Celsius, the low -11°.
    There was some snow and an Arctic chill coming from  the North. There was a
    different chill coming across Lake Ontario from the  South. Fortunately,
    Canada had just ended a mail strike, so there was new music  in the house:
    Onilu immediately warmed things up.
    “Onilu” is a Yoruba word for drummers  and the band consists of three
    percussionists from three generations: Joe  Chambers, Chad Taylor and Kevin
    Diehl. They’re best known as drummers, but  percussion here extends to
    keyboards as well – pianos, vibraphones and  marimbas, crucial melodic
    components in this invocation of African music. There  are also “ideophones”
    (“an instrument the whole of which vibrates to produce a  sound when struck,
    shaken, or scraped, such as a bell, gong, or rattle,” OED).
    The credits are expansive: Joe Chambers  plays conga, drum kit, idiophones,
    marimba, shakere and vibraphone; Kevin Diehl,
    
        batá drums, cajóns, drum kit, electro-acoustic drum kit
    
    ,  Guagua and shakere; Chad Taylor: alfaia, clave, clay drums, drum kit,
    mbira,  marimba, piano, tongue drum, tympani and vibraphone. Tracking down
    descriptions  of some of those instruments might resemble work, but
    listening to Onilu is an  extraordinary pleasure, a world of resonant
    instruments that seem to vibrate,  shimmer and transmit light, sounds that
    might suggest a waterfall of fire,  something both benign and impossible.
    Here one feels the materiality of  instruments, and the processes of their
    making, whether from steel, wood, clay  or skin.
    The eight tracks, ranging from 4’32” to  7’25”, are mostly compositions on
    traditional patterns by one or two members of  the band. The exceptions will
    immediately suggest the trio’s range. “Nyamaropa”,  with mbira (“thumb
    piano”) played beautifully by Taylor, is an ancient melody  that appeared on
    an extraordinary collection in Nonesuch’s series of field  recordings over
    fifty years ago:
    
        The Soul of Mbira: Traditions of the Shona  People of Rhodesia
    
    by Paul Berliner, most recently available on CD as
    
        Zimbabwe:  Soul of Mbira.
    
    At the opposite pole is Bobby Hutcherson’s “Same Shame”,  with Chambers (who
    played drums on the original 1968 recording) turning to  vibraphone, Diehl
    on drum kit and Taylor on tympani.
    The same levels of virtuosity and  flexibility manifest themselves in
    different ways on every track. On the  Diehl/Taylor composed “Estuary Stew”,
    the group stretches instrumentation to  have Chambers on ideophones, Diehl
    on batá drums and electro-acoustic drum kit,  and Taylor on marimba,
    creating a complex mix of acoustic resonances and  electronics. Taylor’s
    “Mainz” (previously recorded in two different versions by  Jeff Parker) is
    particularly tuneful, with Chambers on marimba, Diehl on drum  kit and
    Taylor on piano and drum kit. For sheer rhythmic energy and complexity,
    there’s “A Meta Onilu”, with everyone playing drum kits, Chambers adding
    vibraphone and Taylor, mbira.
    Onilu is  consistently declarative work, emotionally open,
    sonically generous, three  masters of different generations celebrating a
    shared musical passion.


                                    