Taj Mahal Brings His Soulful Sound to Music Box Supper Club

Taj Mahal has won five Grammys, one as recent as last year, along with a lifetime achievement award from the Recording Academy. He has played with the Rolling Stones numerous times. The 84-year-old legend has cemented himself as a multi-instrumentalist, vocalist, composer, performer, recording artist, and sought-after collaborator, but he’s not ready to look back just yet.

“I’m always engaged in it, every day,” says Mahal, who plays the Music Box Wednesday night. “’Til the extent of my existence, you know, creativity.”

Mahal is as inspired as ever.

He has always had a keen sense for observing and absorbing the world around him.

It all started with a musical family and a shortwave radio that picked up broadcasts from all over the world.

“My mother was a schoolteacher. She sang gospel and did classical training,” shares Mahal. “I grew up with a dad who was a composer. I came from a musical culture.”

Mahal repeatedly refers to Africa as the mother-continent and has enjoyed the hell out of being a messenger for the unique music that originated there.

When asked about incorporating different cultural stylings into his lengthy catalogue, Mahal points out that it all ties back to his roots.

“So much of them are informed by the music of the mother continent of Africa. And the engagement between whatever their indigenous music is and that African music, those African rhythms,” says Mahal. “And so, all I’m doing is showing people that, hey, if you start here – instead of from everything being separate at the arc of the fan – if you start where you have to flip the fan open, you know, that’s the common denominator in all the movement. And that’s a way to be able to see it, and not get caught up in that everything is different.”

Mahal is intrigued by the cyclical nature of history, but he wants his music to tell his own story.

“HIS-story,” Mahal emphasizes the prefix of the word. “This is my story. And our story. And, in your case, her story. Once you make that definition you realize, yes that is history. And that is what he came to do. What do you have for you?”

His creations have always been born from a pure place, and he sees them as a larger part of the world and its various cultural avenues.

“I was interested in the music that I was excited about, liked to dance to,” Mahal says of the early days of his artistry. “And there was a lot of different levels of it. And I didn’t see that there was all these different genres. Because I started out before you could call it anything.”

He uses that natural inclination as a driving force in his compositions, to this day, disregarding whatever genre boxes those on the promotion side of the music industry implement.

“The guy who’s trying to make money off of it, most of the time, is not the creative person. He might be creative about money, so he might figure out a way to say, okay, it’s in this box,” comments Mahal. “It is what it is, you know. It’s okay. It’s their job to do that. That’s not my job. My job is to be creative, acknowledge my ancestors, acknowledge my DNA, my Sub-Saharan heritage, and you know, be connected to humanity globally, cosmically, universally, eternally, and put out something really good.”

Mahal’s recording process is fascinating. He shows up to the studio with the music fully composed, ready for him and his peers to play, then he catches a vibe, adding his unique flavor and eagerly witnessing the other studio musicians to do the same.

“What I always tried to do, was come in, have the whole song ready to play. Don’t rehearse the song, when the engineers set microphones, and all those things, because the first time you play the song, oftentimes, that’s when the magic is. I play it three times. If I can’t get it in three times, I don’t get mad at the song, I just go on to another song.”

Mahal likes to have all the musicians in the room together to record. The result of his approach is a lot less splicing together than a lot of fully produced music contains.

“Does it sound like it’s flowing? Like it’s the real deal? If so, we go with it. If not, we don’t play it again,” he says.

Even three takes is two more than Mahal would prefer.

“Then, I know, in my head, that that’s not the first cut. Cause the first cut is always the deepest.”

Mahal has played just about every role a musician can, and that’s the way he likes it. The man loves music and wants to interpret it and create it any chance he gets.

“I see myself, first of all, as a composer, then, as varying instruments, and then as a vocalist. I can play any part of a band. I mean, I’ve been in bands where I’m the bass player. I’ve got a big ole standing bass and I might get to do one song a night. People go, ‘But you’re a frontman.’ And I’m like, ‘Yeah, but I don’t mind playing the bass,’” says Mahal. “Even when I’m the frontman, I’m still part of the ensemble. I’m the head of the ensemble, I’m the reason the ensemble is there, but we’re gonna play as an ensemble. If I put musicians in a band with me, then I want them to shine like I’m shining.”

Mahal takes the same communal approach to live shows and loves that people have found his music at different points in his career.

“At this point, when somebody comes in to listen to my music, they’re listening to it from a point of view of, ‘Wow! There’s all this different stuff.’ But if they were following, one thing at a time, they go, ‘Okay, so what’s the next thing coming out?” says Mahal. “I can tell from an audience, who’s in the audience, by what some people will ask for, after I’ve been playing for a while.”

He doesn’t subscribe to the idea of a one-way performance, thriving on the shared energy.

“It’s cycling. And it’s not cycling because of the musicians; it’s cycling because of everybody in the room.”

Mahal feels lucky to have gotten to play around the world, and have his music appreciated in so many countries. He says he has played in 85. Mahal wants to keep humanity at the center of everything he does.

His creation philosophy is to “Really move into ourselves and say, ‘Let’s build this here.’ Here’s our sovereignty, here’s our dignity, here’s all these other things that we need. We need a peaceful state of mind, we need to have empathy, and sympathy for certain things. And lift humanity and put it up high, so you can see it. Not, an afterthought, ‘Well, it’s all about humanity.’ No! If it’s all about humanity, then tip your head up a little, you know?”

Mahal finds that he is able to spread more love by loving and prioritizing himself, first.

“Family first, and I’m family,” he declares. “The creative wind is always at your back. This way, I’m totally in control.”

He is sure of himself, and his music.

“I know what I like doing, I know what I will do, and what I’m not afraid to do. Whatever I’m doing, it’s not by comparison. It’s with itself, about itself, you know, giving energy to humanity, and anyone who has a love and lust for life.”

We discuss how the raw, realness of art cultivates a sustainable fan-base, rather than trying to capitalize on trends and moments.

Taj Mahal notes that everyone who has “survived the music industry,” listing Buddy Guy, Paul McCartney, the Rolling Stones, and Bobby Rush, are still here because they love making and playing music. And that’s the true story of Mahal’s life: he just loves it.

“The deal is that, here, you have a job that you love. You’ll never work a day in your life, if you work hard,” says Mahal. “It’s wonderful. I’m not punching in on anybody’s time. If in the middle of the night, I hear a piece of music. If my muse walks in and says, ‘Honey, I’m home,’ I’m gonna wake up right away,” he laughs.

Fueling his creative fire, devoid of expectation, is what keeps Mahal living a rich life and creating the kind of art that speaks to people, including himself.

“Them wanting doesn’t mean I have to follow through. I’m listening to a higher vibration,” declares Mahal. “This is my story. I like me. I love my music, that’s why I record it. And I put it out there so other people can love it too, and love themselves too, through the music.”