Written by Patrick Washington

The back cover of Crank Shaped Notes features a blurb with chunky phrases like “planetary consciousness” & “precarious premonitions rolling into indigenous otherness” 

It almost threw me off. “Ioneen” like my poetry to be that heady. 

But I've known Thomas Sayers Ellis as being part of my It's Your Mug family since the 90's, so I had to give it a chance. It's Your Mug was DC's proving ground for us writers & he was one of the young lions who made noise early alongside poets like DJ Renegade, Ta-Nehisi Coates & Kwame Alexander, all of whom helped shaped me. 

Many of us already knew Thomas Sayers Ellis as one of the most talented photographers around – and not just because he documented the GoGo. He was known for scouring the city, capturing moments in the lives of the largely ignored & marginalized – reminding the world that what we think of their existence doesn't matter.  When Ellis snaps, they become ambered in black & white, their lives looped within his shutter. His poems work in much the same way. 

Crank Shaped Notes is a collection of 250 "snapshots" - some are bite-sized parcels of poems, others are observations, pleas, rants & recollections - pulling back the veil to reveal the story of a largely forgotten city. 

You know how in the movies, there's a detective with a wall full of scrawled notes, scattered photographs & descriptions attempting to tie a narrative together? TSE creates a sort of flowchart of life in DC as he reveals familiar ties, political chess games being played & their effects on the people, life & death in the streets, and through it all – shows where the music was in all of this. Many times as you read this book, "the groove" seems like a person, and "the pocket" becomes an actual place of refuge. 

Every so often, he'll shift gears in the book to  drop in what he calls a, "Stick Bag Perspective", and I found these to be the most compelling – The first reminded me of how Organized Konfusion rhymed on, "stray bullet" or Nas animated a handgun on,  "I gave you power". He brought to life a drummers sticks.

Not even in my wildest imagination could I see the drummer's sticks feeling the effects of gentrification on this community - THEIR community would be the stretched-out skins before them...but here I am anyway in TSE's world, and it’s connecting. 

One thing about this world - You can feel the love in the fierceness in which he protects how we discuss it. He sets you straight on certain things about the culture:

- His disdain for the term DMV

- As well as daring to place a hyphen between the word GoGo

-  He introduces us to the 3 branches of GoGo ...  Groove (which I’d say represents the time period from the 60’s to the 80’s), Crank (from the 80’s to 2000) and Bounce (from 2000’s onward) 

Lyrically, TSE's forensic break down of certain words right down to their syllables open up new meanings - when he says:

"Scribes describe to de-scribe their own blurry scribble "

...you're getting part testimony part op-ed & part history lesson.

Crank Shaped Notes explores personal & interpersonal relationships thru various eyes, & while most readers might be expecting human reporters, TSE never stays in that box, instead giving voice to everyone & everything within reach like some gritty Disney fantasy. 

Ellis serves as a guide for both the indigenous and the tourist – keeping the culture alive by calling on the ancestors. Rory. Tino. Ivan Goff. Little Benny, and of course The Godfather (or “Pops” as those close to Chuck called him) get plenty of spotlight, but the one shoutout that touched my heart was the poem, “The Anatomy of Syke Dyke”, which was dedicated to my personal friend & mentor, Robert Michael Reed – keyboardist for Trouble Funk.  Time & time again throughout “Crank…”, TSE resurrects limbs bringing the band back on stage, one by one – talkers, congos, bass & toms.  Gotta have roto-toms.

Halfway through the book, a tale is told in black & white - both words and photos. A black man is lying face up in the National Mall’s Reflecting Pool. A white cop kneels over him, his right arm is extended downward, seemingly pressing the man’s torso deeper into the water. Ellis has just happened upon this scene, and depending on how you read his words or the angle of his pictures, we are witnessing either, a drowning, a sick man being offered assistance, or a baptism. I’ll let you read The Saga of Lee Webster & decide for yourself.

…and there’s a lot of that happening here. The book is loaded with oddly chopped stanzas that at first seem like typos - but once you stand back from the piece - perhaps squint your right eye & tilt your head to the left - and re-read it, you will gain a new perspective.  I'll admit that a couple of outstanding stanzas left me sitting alone looking around the room at nobody in open-mouthed awe like the Wee-Bay Meme. 

Bruh is either a genius or he's crazy. Prolly both. 

Crank is so densely packed with OG slang & references to incidents familiar to only locals, one might think a glossary or an index is needed. The only thing really necessary is time. Time to sit & reflect on the pieces. To read aloud & feel the rhythm in which they were written. 

This joint is more than a love letter & more than a memoir - It is an earnest prayer made through gritted teeth. It’s the congo player changing his sweaty t shirt mid-set without losing the pocket - Still Smackin’. Crank Shaped Notes is a living document of a culture that continues to seep into mainstream consciousness to this day, and a reminder to myself to never stop taking those snapshots.