Aquakultre’s 1783 might be the most ambitious entry on this year’s Polaris Prize shortlist. A concept album that delves into the overlooked history of Afro-Nova Scotians, the latest project from songwriter Lance Sampson combines deep research with personal storytelling, and seeks to answer difficult questions surrounding identity and belonging.
The sprawling, 17-track album is also Sampson’s most sonically adventurous project, moving seamlessly between R&B, gospel and folk music; between soulful vocals and smooth-as-butter rapping.
“City don’t give a goddamn ’bout a Black boy like me,” he sings, call-and-response style, on the bluesy and powerful “Gallows,” which tells the story of Sampson’s great-great grandfather, who was executed by hanging in Halifax in 1935, after he was wrongfully arrested and convicted by an all-white jury.
“1783 is an optimistic plea for us as Black Nova Scotians to look within and understand that we are connected by multiple experiences — by faith, community, blood, sweat and tears,” Sampson tells The Grind. “Every song has a purpose, and (challenges) listeners to dig deeper.”
(Note: The following interview has been edited for length and clarity. Richie Assaly is one of the 200+ music experts who make up the Polaris Prize Jury.)
Congrats on your nomination! This is just the third time that a Nova Scotian artist has made the Polaris Prize short list (the others were Joel Plaskett and Radio Radio). How does it feel to be recognized by this jury?
I’m sure I’m not the only one who probably feels pretty darn good about the nomination. This is something I have hoped for over the years, and it feels amazing to be representing Nova Scotia in this way. Not only to be representing myself, and the province, but representing history. I can’t thank the jury enough for pushing 1783 through this far.
How would you describe 1783 to someone who hasn’t heard the album?
1783 was the year when so-called Black Loyalists made their way to Shelburne, Nova Scotia from New York [following the American War of Independence], and that’s also how far back I can trace some of my own roots. My family tree includes ancestors from the Black Loyalist, Jamaican Maroon, and Black refugee migrations. The songs on this album pull from the vast historical record of Blacks in this province, diving into themes of identity, motherhood, fatherhood, loss and the oral histories we all share as Black Nova Scotians.
You’ve said this album was inspired by Jeremy Dutcher’s Polaris Prize-winning Wolastoqiyik Lintuwakonawa. That album, which reimagined the music of Dutcher’s Wolastoq ancestors, also came out of deep historical and anthropological research. Can you tell me a bit about the genesis of this record, and how it came together?
My mother survived raising three children on her own, and she did it with style and grace. But I didn’t have much of a father around, and as we grew into teenagers, I didn’t understand why I felt so out of place around people who looked like me. Boys and men from other Black neighborhoods in the city despised each other for no reason, even though, if we go back far enough into our family trees, we might even be related. Nova Scotia is a small province and has a long history of Black folks living in it, but there was a lot of hate brewing in the hearts of Black boys and men of my generation — my own heart included.
When my wife and I had our daughter, I came to realise that I didn’t have a true example of what fatherhood looked like. What a partnership looked like. What community really means. I am still learning as I go. I realized that if our daughter were to ask me who her family was, I could only give her a fraction of what I now know to be true. I barely knew who my family was. I barely knew who I was.
I received a research grant to go visit Black communities that I knew I had a connection to. I talked with elders about history, community, faith, family, raising kids, traditional and core values. Through this research I came across the work of Dr. David Woods, Dr. David States, Sylvia D. Hamilton, the work of The Black United Front, the African United Baptist Association, and even the work of my Aunt Paula, who had already started working on my grandmother’s family tree. I came across music, recordings, art, inspiration, understanding and the stories of Black women and men who have made a difference in Nova Scotia. The connections I made through traveling the province inspired 1783.
I deeply care about the rich history of the historic Black settlements and communities of Nova Scotia. I deeply care for my Brothers and Sisters living in Nova Scotia and Scotians abroad. I believe this project has the power to elevate my generation of Black Nova Scotians to do good for their families and communities, and change our relationship to the streets. I believe that Scotians are the most inspiring people in the country.
What do you hope to achieve by sharing some of these stories, and by complicating the narrative about Black Canadians, through your music?
I think what I’d like for folks to understand, especially if this album takes you down the rabbit hole of history, is that Afro-Nova Scotian’s have been here. Black people have been here. Not as long as our Indigenous kin, but we have faced storms, too. This album isn’t giving you a full historic picture, but it’s giving you a year to consider, experiences to relate to, and stories and names to connect with. It’s contributing to the curiosities, and opening up more conversations around the needs of not only a few Black communities, but all Black communities.
Was there anything unexpected or extraordinary that you learned as you recorded this?
I learned the power of taking your time, working with a producer, and trusting the process. All of my albums, although very collaborative, have not taken the same approach as we took with 1783. What was unexpected for me was realizing that I truly needed to let go of my expectations of what I had envisioned for some of these recordings.
Recording this project with the musicians and Erin Costelo has forever changed how I hear myself on record. What I thought may have been imperfections were actually what made things unique. I wasn’t expecting to come out of this recording with a better understanding of what it means to be present, and what it truly means to produce.
Why do you think 1783 is connecting with listeners?
Honestly, I’m not entirely sure why people are connecting with it. 1783 was created with the intent of shifting our relationship to certain things within our African Nova Scotian communities. It was created as an optimistic plea for us as Black people in this province to re-ignite our understanding of how we are all connected to each other. Whether that be through blood, experiences, history, through marriages, even through trauma. It was the only way I knew how to engage the next generation in digging deeper into that connection, before the street culture gets a hold of them.
Do you have a favourite track from this album, and why?
Every song has its purpose for giving people the historical nudge necessary to dig deeper. I’ve grown to understand after listening to this project over and over, that this record is an album. You have to listen to it, front to back. I don’t have a favorite song, but I do hold onto that “Gallows” is an important song.
If you were on the Polaris Prize jury, what album would you highlight as the best Canadian project of the last year?
If I was a Polaris Prize juror, the only record I would consider to be the best Canadian project of the last year is 1783. Next contenders [from recent years] are Shad’s Start Anew and Super Duty Tough Work’s Paradigm Shift.
