Welcome Friend!

BURNT SUGAR THE ARKESTRA CHAMBER is a ter­ri­tory band, a neo-tribal thang, a com­mu­nity hang, a soci­ety music guild aspir­ing to the con­di­tion of all that is molten, glacial, racial, spa­cial, oceanic, mythic, antiphonal and telepathic.

“A mul­tira­cial jam army that freestyles with cool telekine­sis between the lus­trous men­ace of Miles Davis’ On The Cor­ner, the slash-and-om of 1970s King Crim­son, and Jimi Hen­drix’ moon­walk across side three of Elec­tric Lady­land.”- David Fricke, Rolling Stone.

All our love to Chaka Khan, Nina Simone, George Clin­ton and the P-funk All Stars, Lady Day, Miles Davis, Eddy Hazel, A.R. Kane, Sun Ra, Jimi Hen­drix, Duke Elling­ton and Betty Davis for open­ing the gates of par­adise and push­ing us through.

Butch Morris’s Con­duc­tion Sys­tem for Orches­tral Impro­vi­sa­tion is the pre­ferred mode of chan­nel­ing for this Gotham based ensem­ble of pan-ethnic sound war­riors. Every­one of them is a bor­der cross­ing trans-national whether they’ll admit it or not.

Spon­ta­neous com­bus­tion being an occu­pa­tional haz­ard in Gotham, Burnt Sugar is how we keep it real, sur­real, arbo­real, aquatic, incen­di­ary. If only because we might be mis­taken for the world’s sec­ond fully impro­vi­sa­tional acid-funk band.

To quote Arthur Jafa, we don’t strive to be orig­i­nal, but Abo­rig­i­nal. Like the song­lines and the dream­ing, like Tracey Mof­fatt and The Last Wave, like Cubase and Cabrini Green. One foot in the pre­his­toric, the other in the post human. In this jour­ney, you’re the jour­nal and we’re the jour­nal­ists. Hous­ton, Hous­ton, do you read?

~Greg Tate