If righteous rage is the order of the day, Brittany Davis’ latest release is the Kansas City album of the year. Black Thunder, largely improvised in a Seattle studio with bassist Evan Flory-Barnes and drummer D’Vonne Lewis, is a document of discontent interspersed with bursts of radiant optimism.
Davis, a vocalist, pianist and bandleader, was raised in Kansas City before she moved to the Pacific Northwest. She’s cast off conventional Midwest niceties. The vitriol of Black Thunder is in the vein of fiery agitators including Nina Simone, Abbey Lincoln, Moor Mother and Angel Bat Dawid.
Decrying institutional racism and societal oppression while confessing interpersonal discord and body image issues with lithe musicality, Davis reflects the tenor of the times with the acuity of an indignant folk singer and the ruthlessness of a battle rapper.
She decries duplicity and laments the inequity of fate on the seething “All You Get” and excoriates the inhumanity of slavery on “Sarah’s Song.” Eight interludes titled “Ancestors” avoid jarring transitions into less furious tracks.
Davis addresses her blindness on the cosmological “Amid the Blackout of the Night” and celebrates life on the Ayers-esque "Sun and Moon". Exquisite pianism, a facet of Davis’ artistry that may easily be overlooked amid the album’s storminess, is among the elements making Black Thunder a polarizing triumph.