Like a rainbow

by Jamie Winpenny

It’s a fine Honolulu Sunday, and Shawn Mosely is conjuring Franz Liszt on a hundred-year-old upright grand piano, filling a quiet Pauoa neighborhood with sophistication and tinkling sonic smiles. His current musical cohort Steve Inglis is nearby, recalling war stories of being on the road. When asked how the two of them came to be working together, Steve guffaws, “Crack cocaine!” He is, of course, joking.

Steve and Shawn share an uncommon camaraderie, a rapport that translates seamlessly from personal to professional. They also share a pathological reverence for the Hawaiian slack key music they make. Mosely is a classically trained pianist and a graduate of the Berklee School of Music. Steve is a guitar prodigy in full flower. They have teamed for Na Po Makole (The Night Rainbows), an album that combines Steve’s keen understanding of the limitless nuances of slack key guitar and Mosely’s mastery of the ivories. The material was created specifically for the record.

‘Aumakua Records is the label that has released the album, and the business is Mosely’s effort to foster the growth of Hawai’i musical artists. “I want to help artists sustain a living making music,” he says. He’s quick to point out that his label is not a “Hawaiian Music” label, but rather a label for Hawaiian artists. Mosely’s pedigree as an engineer and producer is inscrutable. He’s worked with names that loom large in popular music at The Plant in Sausalito, California. He lists modestly names like Santana, Dave Matthews and Metallica. He’s also run his own Witch Doctor studios in Boston and Brooklyn. Inglis is cheeky when he apes, “Bob Rock ate my lunch!”

The duo is fresh off of a brief tour that saw them wow crowds in the Pacific Northwest, gigs graced by gifted singer-strummer Cindy Combs. The music is enriched by the combined canon of knowledge the artists possess. While musing on the changes that the practically categorical shift to digital recording has brought the music industry, Mosely opines, “People just don’t have the ears they used to.” Na Po Makole was recorded with particular attention to the artists involved, an essentially live recording that captures the musical soul of the players involved. There was little tinkering, and that’s the point. Most of the work went into months of preproduction and writing.

While the music Mosely and Inglis make is faithful to the slack key heritage it is entrenched in, it also reflects the brilliance with which each performer is endowed. Both are direct but reflective when asked about how two haole boys can have such a deep connection to the Hawaiian music they make. Inglis grew up in Palolo, the son of parents who were part of the Hale Mohalu community, a group of political and cultural activists in the ’70s that looked after the interests of native Hawaiian Hansen’s Disease patients. He was a regular at Moe Keale’s table in his hanabata days.

Mosely’s family history sees him similarly born with close connections to Hawaiian culture. He offers an apt rejoinder that reflects his considerable experience in the music industry. “You don’t have to be from The Delta to play the blues.”

Mosely has taken under his wing an assembly of Hawai’i artists who range from blues to hip hop to slack key guitar. As an engineer and producer, he has seen great bands languish on record company shelves only because they sounded too much like a cash cow already on the charts. That’s why he is dedicated to helping musicians with developing their own particular musical voice. As most veterans of the industry are, Mosely is sardonic when distilling his mission. “We’re just trying to help musicians not get ripped off.”

It’s easy to forget that he is an enormously gifted musician when speaking to Mosely about the business, but he is as committed to making music as he is producing it. And there is a distinct difference between Mosely and Inglis when it comes to the realities of being a professional musician. Mosely would rather work a day job than get paid to play covers. Inglis, who works as hard as anyone in the industry with the Waikiki bar rock stalwart Piranha Brothers, belly laughs “Hell no!” when asked if he encounters conflict between being a studied, solo artist and a guy with a guitar playing Creedence Clearwater Revival at nine gigs a week. “I’ll never get tired of playing Dylan’s ‘Like a Rolling Stone.’”

Mosely and Inglis are blessed with a connection that is unlikely but obvious, and both are determined to accomplish the same feat, which is to open opportunities for themselves and others to grow personally, musically and professionally. Reaching for the keys on the relic piano, Mosely crystallizes the work ‘Aumakua Records does. “Basically,” he says, smiling, “I just want to be able to enjoy the record.”