The star of the 22nd installment of Adrian Younge and Ali Shaheed Muhammad’s Jazz Is Dead series, Ghanaian artist Ebo Taylor is pushing 90 years old and wearing it with pride. A prominent highlife performer since the 1950s and an early Afrobeat collaborator, Taylor’s artistic legacy has long been secure. Accordingly, Ebo Taylor JID022 (which he recorded at the age of 88) doesn’t come across as an attempt at revival or an after-the-fact tribute. Instead, it’s a celebration of Taylor, a genuinely appreciative team reveling in everything he’s done in the past six decades and lifting him up as he does just a little more.
Ebo Taylor could hardly have asked for a better production team in 2025 than Younge and Muhammad. The pair’s reverence for analog techniques and insistence on perfection sets an immaculate sonic stage for the guests that grace the Jazz Is Dead concert and album series.
JID022′s musical foundation is warm and full. Horns, guitars, keys, and layers of rhythms immediately recall the energetic sounds of 1970s West Africa. There are also nods to 1960s highlife, blended with swirls of psychedelic jazz. It’s a smooth mix, held together by a bright chorus of supporting vocalists eager to respond to Taylor’s calls.
Into this funk paradise steps Ebo Taylor. Always tough, his voice is now well-worn, every line vibrating with the experience that has come along with his age. With the help of a little bit of reverb, he leads the bright, retro grooves of each piece. Moving equally toward joy and justice, every line he offers has Taylor’s full enthusiasm, which spreads quickly. “Get up and do your thing,” backing singers belt across the organ-drenched opening track “Get Up”, and Taylor does, his tremulous voice nimbly rising and soaring. Between verbal refrains, trumpet, sax, and flute all hand off solos in a frenzied dance while plugged-in ostinati pop up from guitars and keys.
As the record continues, Taylor’s voice gets even more time in the spotlight. He holds long, invigorating notes on quick-moving “Obra Akyedzi”. For simmering “Kusi Na Sibo”, he grounds himself with a little more grit. Though the horn cascades that open “Obi Do Woa (If Someone Loves You)” are dramatic, there’s a sweetness, almost mellow, that tints Taylor’s verses.
Rippling layers of the vocal lines on “Nsa A W’oanye Edwuma, Ondzidzi” give the otherwise understated song a trippy overlay. The light two-step of “Beye Bu, Beye Ba” stands out as the most charming of the lot, emulating the plucky Ghanaian highlife that started Taylor’s career.
The final track, “Feeling”, makes for a gentle and hopeful ending to JID022. “Just look around you / And tell me what you see,” sings Taylor repeatedly, taking his voice as far as possible. Lilting keys, shimmering percussion, and soothing winds make the closer a blissful one, and the lack of effects or adornments appended to Taylor’s weathered words makes his entreaty more intimate. Ebo Taylor has seen, heard, and played it all, or something like it. As his Jazz Is Dead recording draws to a close, it’s an honor to listen to him within his element.