Woman, Native, Other

In the spring, the bear returns to the forest, the glacier returns to its source, and the salmon returns to the fresh water where it was spawned. Drawing on the special relationship that the Native people of southeastern Alaska have always had with nature, Blonde Indian is a story about returning.

After decades of toiling in obscurity (including a low-profile stint on Chess), Barbara Carr finally began to make a name for herself in the late '90s as a brassy, often X-rated belter in the Southern soul-blues vein. A native of St. Louis, Carr was born Barbara Crosby on January 9, 1941, and began singing in church as a choir girl, eventually forming a family gospel group called the Crosby Sisters. She joined a singing/dancing troupe in grade school and went on to sing in the high school choir, around which time she also helped start a singing group called the Comets Combo that played popular material at local clubs. In 1963, she joined a locally popular group called the Petites, which opened for Smokey Robinson & the Miracles. She met St. Louis-based saxophonist/bandleader Oliver Sain through her brother-in-law (she adopted her husband's last name, Carr) and successfully auditioned to join Sain's band.

Whereas Native Harrow’s previous records have grown increasingly more expansive, both stylistically and in terms of the musical forces applied, “Divided Kind” counters this categorical unfurling with a lateral move towards the ground, with both feet firmly planted, in a folk-soul-rock sound that still explores their love of RnB, jazz, country, and farther-flung inspirations while simultaneously digging in, with more authority, to the musical world they have constructed. Or maybe they’re still searching, and “Divided Kind” is what’s next. Their refusal to be put in a box, and their relentless insistence on catering to the demands of each individual song suggests the latter is likely the truth at hand.

Navajo blankets, rugs, and tapestries are the best-known, most-admired, and most-collected textiles in North America. There are scores of books about Navajo weaving, but no other book like this one. For the first time, master Navajo weavers themselves share the deep, inside story of how these textiles are created, and how their creation resonates in Navajo culture. Want to weave a high-quality, Navajo-style rug?

Whereas Native Harrow’s previous records have grown increasingly more expansive, both stylistically and in terms of the musical forces applied, “Divided Kind” counters this categorical unfurling with a lateral move towards the ground, with both feet firmly planted, in a folk-soul-rock sound that still explores their love of RnB, jazz, country, and farther-flung inspirations while simultaneously digging in, with more authority, to the musical world they have constructed. Or maybe they’re still searching, and “Divided Kind” is what’s next. Their refusal to be put in a box, and their relentless insistence on catering to the demands of each individual song suggests the latter is likely the truth at hand.