The third installment of Roberts' Coin Coin series, which, although too early in her career to be called a defining moment with absolute certainly, very much feels like one, is also the most personal. She flies solo here, dispensing with the band and augmenting her saxophone and voice with several analogue Korg synthesizers and ‘an early 1900s Archambault upright piano’. If there is a pre-computer age authenticity created by the use of that instrument as part of the deep conceptual bedrock of this work – an exploration of African-American slave history, culture and politics (Malcolm X and beyond) – then it is vividly enhanced by reprises of the 20th century American popular song staples of Stephen Foster and James Weldon Johnson, and counter-pointed by samples of the homeless in modern day Mississippi as well as ‘a very chaotic New York City 21st century’. The result is a mantralike, entrancing ambient suite in which Roberts' sung choruses and spoken word swim gracefully in the same creative stream. Roberts' great artistic triumph here is the enormous coherence with which the disparate elements – her stories and the lived experiences of others; modern and ancestral sounds – flow into one entity. Deep pain, poignancy, resilience and rapture permeate a work of ambition and enormous attention to detail. Very possibly career-defining.

Jazzwise spoke to Matana Roberts about the album Is this the most personal chapter of the Coin Coin series?

Maybe… in terms of the autobiographical information yes. For instance the Malcolm X quote is there because my first summer job as a kid was a pseudo library assistant to his widow Betty Shabazz, who was friends with my parents. Mrs Shabazz was so kind to me and it just added to this lifelong fascination with trying to understand ideas of political ‘legacy’, the legacy of those left behind, and this beautiful historical aura that they carry. Mrs Shabazz had that historical aura.

How did it feel not having other musicians involved this time?

A tad liberating and a tad sad. I love making music with other breathing beings. It's a true privilege. I learn so much every time but I am also a bit worn out from band leading. I love creating conceptual pieces for large groups of musicians, but I'm not sure I want to lead bands anymore. It's so much work that it is not worth the stress. But I also appreciated the challenge of putting this together. It was very, very difficult. I had a clear vision for what I was after but I was unsure I could pull it off and I didn't want to buy a lot of slick gear to make it happen. I'm just not into that. I wanted to see what I could do with the most basic of what I owned/collected over the years. I wanted to keep a specific lo-fi non-digital element intact. Radwan Moumneh, the sound engineer, really listened and honoured my ideas with much love and care.

Tell me about the choice of instruments – vintage equipment such as the Korg monotron and the 1900s Archambault upright piano?

Again that's sort of my ‘fuck you’ to digital. I mean I love it to a point for the access it can create, but I feel it's gotten out of hand in the music industry, it's destroying the humanness of sound ritual and communication. I'm in love with ephemera, traces of old traditions and ideas. I buy almost everything second hand. I am that person digging through unwanted dusty items at various Brooklyn junk shops.

Having said that, old is juxtaposed with new – sound samples come from ‘a very chaotic New York city 21st century’. Is the wide time frame a key part of Coin Coin?

Yeah, I'm really trying to cover a wide swathe for the listener's consideration. We are living in a very exciting time period, but I also feel paying attention to history is so important for progression and kindness.