Guest Blogger: Laina Dawes on Black History Month and Black Rock
Yvette and I are happy to welcome today’s 32 Days of Black History blogathon guest blogger Laina Dawes. Laina is a writer and music critic from Toronto, Canada. Yvette first “cyber met” Laina when she began reading her columns in the Race, Ethnicity & Culture section (which she heads) for Blogher.com. Laina’s writings appear in various print and online publications in both Canada and the US. She also has on her own blog, Writing is Fighting. [Love the title!] Take it away, Laina…
I’m listening to the jukebox I created for this post, and I’m feeling pretty damned pleased with myself. The program I used isn’t even all that hot as I couldn’t find a lot of music that I was really looking for, but this mix will suffice. See, it really doesn’t matter what is posted on here because the crux of it is, you either dig aggressive music – the heavy, punishing beats, screeching guitar riffs and howling, sometimes not-so melodic vocals – or you don’t. And that’s okay, really it is.As I previously wrote about Black History Month on my blog, in previous years I have a written a scathing diatribe about why I dislike this month. It’s has always seemed to me as though ‘we’ have one month to learn how to like each other, get along and then for the rest of the year, it is business as usual. In hindsight, I think that the real reason for my dissatisfaction is that even though it is a time where I can socialize with Black writing and creative colleagues that I only seem to see during this month, I realize that while we have our professional ambitions in common, on a personal level, I really do not have anything in common with them. Therefore, the month has meant a time that reinforces my social isolation.
I do not have a rich Black cultural heritage; a rich family legacy to fall back on. I do not have Black parents nor siblings that I have learned how to be ‘Black’ from. Who I am is what I have learned to be – partly because of the natural instinct for humans to survive in this screwed-up world and partly because of my own personal preferences that have developed from my (somewhat turbulent) childhood. A large part of my preferences are surrounded around my passion for metal music and its rich and challenging culture.I thrive off its aggression, its power and its pain. Honestly, it is the metal scene that has gotten me through my most difficult times and even at 30+ it still challenges me and drives me to succeed. For several years, I have written about how I firmly believe that metal music (okay, perhaps not some of its cultural aspects) is a safe and healthy (I can hear you laughing at me now) way for Black folks, specifically Black women, to vent their frustrations out. But as I have two passions – one being the music and the other is writing about race and social justice issues – sometimes the two clash. It is my mission to make them mesh. In order to have the two habituate in a functional way, for the past few years I have been looking at the general reluctance of the black community to embrace the genre of music that they created: Rock n’ Roll.It’s not just about liking or disliking rock and its bastardized brothers – punk, metal, etc. – it’s about recognizing them as genres of music that while they might burn your throat and ruin your palate, some folks like them…yes, even folks who look like you. While a number of people have chided the black community for figuratively abandoning and totally ignoring our place in rock and roll history, even questioning the racial allegiance of Jimi (but was he even considered a brotha?) and while some of us got down with Living Color for a hot minute, if it wasn’t for young white guys, the incredibly hot quartet, along with punk legends…..yeah I said punk – Bad Brains, would have faded into obscurity.The term Black Rock is a funny, schizophrenic thing. What is it? Does it just mean Negroes playing guitars loudly and shrieking with wild abandon? According to Boldaslove’s Rob Fields, it is more than noting the representation of black men and women musicians and it certainly does not mean that just because they are black that we are obligated to all run out and buy their albums, or that they are even good, for that matter – it is about reclaiming and celebrating a genre that has largely been ignored by us in the African Diaspora:
…..Black rock is a term I’ll continue to employ not only in this dialogue that attempts to re-connect African Americans to music they created, but also as a means of mounting an ongoing and worthwhile effort to overcome ridiculous limitations imposed from within and without. In my estimation, the former must come first.
What I like about Rob’s assertion was that he articulated the mild annoyance I feel when people automatically assume that as a music journalist that I must only write about Hip-Hop, or that as a Jamaican (by blood, not by birth) I have an affinity for reggae (which for the most part, I loathe). There are limitations that are imposed not just by those who automatically think that because of your ethnicity you must be interested in only specific genres of music, but what is more troubling to me is when one bases their black ‘authenticity’ by the music – and by extension, culture – they favor. Our younger (or at least, mine) has eschewed the writings of Franz Fanon, James Baldwin, Toni Morrison and embraced the music of Soulja Boy, TI and other artists who extol consumerism over black empowerment. While admittedly I occasionally shake my expansive rear-end to their tunes, they do not exactly spend a lot of time extolling the virtues of modern black life and culture. And that’s okay….really. We all need to get our freak-on after a stressful day at work or school. Let’s just not get it twisted that these artists are a true representative of contemporary black culture and that we should refer to their artistic contributions as genuine reflections of us.
So back to the matter at hand. The reason why I am so psyched about seeing my brothers and sisters play the music that I have been passionate about since I was a kid, mesmerized by the makeup and over-the-top glam of KISS, is what it represents. The energy is not only addictive, momentarily sending me into an alternative universe where I can be free for a hot second, but also, because these are artists who are doing what they want to do, despite the social, political and monetary implications. There are artists who are either around my age and perhaps a bit older, whose musical influences were spawned by music that didn’t just flow from their neighbor’s front stoop but from what was playing on Top 40 radio. There are also those, who, perhaps looking for an alternative to what they are ‘told’ is ‘black music’ which not only they should adhere to out of allegiance to their race, but because it somehow marks their cultural authenticity. You can be proud to be black and still be of independent mind and being, can you can love all types of music and still be down with the cause.
The music that I selected for the jukebox is a great representation of black rock music. Some of the bands consist of entirely black musicians while other bands have one or more black members. Some bands, like Bad Brains, Soul Brains (an offshoot of BB), Living Colour, Fishbone and 24-7 Spyz infuse reggae, jazz and soul music with hard rock.
I’ve also added in my personal Shero, Skin, who fronted one of my favourite bands, Skunk Anansie. Another female musician in the mix is Sandra St. Victor – but please note, the tracks on this mix are from her solo album, which is actually more R&B-ish. Not being able to find any tracks from her band The Family Stand which is a legendary rock/funk/soul collective, I wanted to have her represented as one of the most important black female rock singers.
On the heavier side, there is Killswitch Engage’s frontman Howard Jones, whose soulful voice could probably be perfectly accompanied with any genre of music, but Killswitch (he is the only Black member) can be classified as hardcore metal. There is also the awesome God Forbid whom I am currently obsessed with, and of course Living Colour, whom no explanation is required. Also, Lajon from Sevendust has been ‘bringing it’ for a number of years, as well as Doug Pinnick from King’s X – which if you have a chance, should see them live. Awesome.
I recently interviewed Eugene S. Robinson from Oxbow and asked him how he describes his music. He said that as all of the members are artists he views the band ( which was conceived over 20 years ago) he refers to them as more as ‘performance art’ versus falling under any musical categorizations. I would suggest you check out their website! In the same vein, I suppose you could also look at Indie-hipster wunderkinds, TV on the Radio the same way, as their music ranges from 80’s pop to indie rock. There is also hardcore / experimental metal legends Candira which recently broke up but their music made a huge impact. Singer Carley Coma is probably one of the most underrated frontmen in history. Just my opinion, of course.
Obviously, there are a ton of other Black artists that are doing their own thing and doing it well. Most of them are not getting the exposure or support that they deserve, but the same could be said for thousands of artists, regardless of color or gender. If interested, the best way to search for these bands is Myspace – seriously. Start with a band that you know, and check out their “Friends” and I guarantee that you will be on an interesting journey.
We black folks are strong, resilient and throughout our history in North America, we have been forced to forgive the many sins that have fallen on us by people who do not share our ethnicity. Maybe it is because of that I have always had a hard time understanding why we are so quick to judge each other on our individual artistic preferences. I’m not saying that rock music will change the world, but perhaps embracing the art that our people conceived might give us a mechanism for not only social change, but as a way to vent our internal thoughts an emotions in a healthy way.
Enjoy your Black History Month.
