This came out in 2000 — or at least that’s when I got it. Here’s what I said about it back then (with some minor editing):
There’s music, and then there’s spoken word. And for the most part, seldom the twain do meet — except for the odd track like, say, Everybody’s Free (To Wear Sunscreen).
Well, New York poet Sekou Sundiata does mention sunblock on one of the tracks on his second CD Longstoryshort, but he’s a long way from some sound-bite spewing novelty act. A Harlem native and English lit instructor, Sundiata’s second career as a jazz poet takes the word out of the classroom and brings it downtown to jam in the clubs. Backed by a funky outfit laying down rich, wet grooves, he wields his soulful, textured voice — somewhere between Isaac Hayes and Barry White — like a solo baritone sax, weaving African-American myth, history and pop culture into free-flowing, multi-faceted essays on what’s going on, what’s going down and what’s gone wrong. Part rap, part soul, part poetry, totally mesmerizing. But be warned: After this, plain old lyrics won’t seem the same.
