Carlos Niño & Friends

𝙎𝙝𝙖𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙘 𝙇𝘼 𝙡𝙮𝙣𝙘𝙝𝙥𝙞𝙣 𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙤𝙨 𝙉𝙞ñ𝙤, 𝙛𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙮 𝘼𝙣𝙙𝙧𝙚 𝟯𝟬𝟬𝟬, 𝙇𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙖𝙟𝙞, 𝙆𝙖𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙞 𝙒𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙩𝙤𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚, 𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙨 𝙡𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙖𝙜𝙚 𝙖𝙢𝙗𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙟𝙖𝙯𝙯 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙡 𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙤𝙣 𝙖 𝙨𝙥𝙧𝙖𝙬𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙇𝙋 𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙥𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙘 𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙡 𝙟𝙖𝙯𝙯, 𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝘼𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙧𝙝𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙢𝙨, 𝙛𝙡𝙤𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘿&𝘽 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙧𝙤, 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙮𝙣𝙩𝙝 𝙟𝙖𝙯𝙯 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙥𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙣 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙.

“Over the past few years, concert patrons have stopped the musician Carlos Niño after gigs to ask two simple questions: “Are you a shaman?” “I hear the medicine in your music, can I come to your next ceremony?” The queries are fair enough: Looking at Niño, a tall man with a wild beard and kind eyes, one would think he’s from some faraway time and could maybe cast spells. Once you get to know him, you find that he’s just an incredibly sweet guy with a laid-back demeanor, and that he isn’t some guru claiming to have an all-access pass to the otherworld.

So what does he say to those wondering if he’s a spiritual teacher? “I’m just chillin’, on fire,” he declares. “I'm not rolling with or out any kind of religious or traditional focus, rules or doctrine. I'm just presenting something that has a lot of energy, and is intended to be an opening for those of us who are journeying, creating musically, and for those who gather with us.” Indeed, there’s a communal essence to Niño’s self-described Energetic Space Music. As leader of Carlos Niño & Friends, he encourages his collaborators to improvise without preconceived ideas of what the sound is supposed to entail. His new album, (I’m just) Chillin’, on Fire, features more than a dozen musicians and includes a who’s who of sonic experimentation — everyone from guitarist Nate Mercereau and saxophonist Kamasi Washington, to New Age cornerstone Laraaji and hip-hop legend André 3000 playing his now trademark flute. On purpose, Niño lets the music drift and the unity ensue, making (I’m just) Chillin’, on Fire another highlight in a recent run of sublime work.

But where albums like 2020’s Chicago Waves (with multi-instrumentalist Miguel Atwood-Ferguson) and last year’s Extra Presence hovered in the speakers, (I’m just) Chillin’ forges ahead in certain spots through energetic drums equally indebted to jazz and electronic funk. It eschews genre, but the tenets of ‘70s underground jazz are present. Fifty years ago, acts like Brother Ah, the Ensemble Al-Salaam and Mtume Umoja Ensemble crafted music that scanned as Spiritual Jazz yet flared in many different directions. They leaned into the transcendence of the music overall, not artificial terms used to market it. (I’m just) Chillin’ emits the same emotion: On “Mighty Stillness,” when the experimental violinist V.C.R proclaims her “ancestral right” to rest, she evokes Black women like Jeanne Lee, Jayne Cortez and Beatrice Parker, innovative vocalists from indie scenes who embodied the same freedom. Then on “Love Dedication (for Annelise),” Niño uses subtle bass (from Michael Alvidrez) and a serene piano loop (from Surya Botofasina) to speak of endearment in broad terms. “Love is unconditional — everywhere, everything, flowing always,” he observes. “Totally alive, no upper limit.” Though he hesitates to embrace comparisons to the spacious arrangements heard on indie labels of the ‘70s like Strata, Strata-East and Tribe (only because of how much he respects their legacies, not wanting to claim any space in their fields), there’s no denying his stature as an anchor in the jazz, hip-hop and beat scenes in Los Angeles over the last nearly 30 years, and how his influences are alive in what he makes.”