Black Music Month at 30: A cultural retrospective

"Music soothes the savage beast."

And so it did the souls of the earliest Africans in this land, who were savagely exploited in the beastly institution of American chattel enslavement.

In a continuation of the African oral tradition, the enslaved Africans would belt out syncopated field hollers and work songs, as well as moan melodically--and methodically--as they toiled from can't-see-in-the-morning until can't-see-at-night.

As the late Black musicologist and Harvard educator Eileen Southern pointed out in The Music of Black Americans, "the single most important element of slave music" was the singing style which derived from their African homeland.

Constantly improvising, their African voices became musical instruments--and their bodies, the drums that were banned by their enslavers.

After "freedom broke," in the face of Jim Crow and systemic racial discrimination, the formerly enslaved Africans continued to pour the very fiber of their being into the music, aptly called, what else, Soul music.

It is worth nothing that this music, with its emotive and cathartic elements, also flows like a river through the African American literary landscape, particularly in--but not limited to--the works of the great writers Toni Morrison, Ralph Ellison, Langston Hughes, Gloria Naylor, James Baldwin, Amiri Baraka, and Richard Wright.

Indeed, as a way of coping with the monstrosity of a daily existence that would have broken a lesser people, the so-called American Negro, captive in a hostile, far-flung land, created America's most enduring and recognizable art forms: the Blues, Jazz, Negro Spirituals, American Gospel, Rhythm & Blues, and Hip-Hop.

And Rock and Roll.

Out of this tradition came, among countless others, Muddy Waters, Anthony Hamilton, The Fisk Jubilee Singers, Louie Armstrong, Odetta, Common, Dinah Washington, Aretha Franklin, Sam Cooke, The Blind Boys of Alabama, Fertile Ground, Bessie Smith, Cassandra Wilson, Mahalia Jackson, Public Enemy, John Coltrane, Curtis Mayfield and the Impressions, The Mighty Clouds of Joy, Lauryn Hill, B.B. King, Donnie Hathaway, Charlie Pride, James Brown, The Temptations, Joe Tex, Howlin' Wolf, Marvin Gaye, Ray Charles, Abby Lincoln, Sweet Honey in the Rock, The Jackson Five, Ella Fitzgerald, India.Arie, Bobby "Blue" Bland, The Sounds of Blackness, Nina Simone, Stevie Wonder, and the recently departed Queen of the Chicago Blues, Koko Taylor.

As well, Afrika Bambaataa.

Then there was Black Music royalty like Duke Ellington, Count Basie, and Billie "Lady Day" Holiday. And don't forget Prince.

This same African Oral Tradition is on display throughout the African Diaspora, as in the works of Bob Marley, Estelle, Peter Tosh, King Yellowman, Mutabaruka, Mariam Makeba, Jonathan Butler, Fela Kuti, The Wailers, Rita Marley, Maxi Priest, and Sister Carol.

Moreover, often overlooked is its influence on Elvis Presley, Diane Schuur, Eric Clapton, Pete Escovedo, Janis Joplin, The Rolling Stones, Carlos Santana, Elton John, Bonnie Raitt, Bobby Caldwell, Michael Franks, and countless other non-Black musicians around the world.

Such is the cultural legacy that musical icon and visionary Kenny Gamble hoped to celebrate and preserve when he first urged President Jimmy Carter to proclaim June Black Music Month (BMM). Gamble--half of the famed Gamble and Huff duo that revolutionized Black music in the 1970's, with Philadelphia International Records and its Sounds of Philadelphia (TSOP)--led a delegation including the likes of Dizzy Gillespie and Max Roach to the White House in 1979 for the very first observance of BMM.

Which explains why she was stunned to learn from the Clinton administration that President Carter never actually signed a proclamation, and thus, in the eyes of the American government, there was no Black Music Month--not officially, anyway.

Once Williams recovered from this devastating shock, she shifted into high gear and worked tirelessly for several years, along with Congressman Chaka Fattah, D-PA, and Don Cornelius, of Soul Train fame, to spearhead the effort which culminated with the 1998 passage of Fattah's House Concurrent Resolution 27, the African-American Music Resolution.

At long last, in 2000, President Clinton invited Williams into the Oval Office in recognition of the African American Music Bill--along with the Isley Brothers (Ronald and Ernie), Angela Winbush, Hiram Hicks, then president of Island Records and IAAAM co-founder, Shelia Eldridge.

Indeed, every Democratic president since Carter has had a recognition ceremony in the White House. President George W. Bush hosted three such gatherings, with the Sr. Bush in attendance during at least one of them.

President Obama quietly issued a proclamation recognizing "African American Music Appreciation Month" on June 2, although few outside the White House know of its existence. This is like the tree that falls in the forest with no one there to hear it. That is, without the optics of a White House event, the proclamation is a non-story.

Even Williams, my fellow Temple University alum, affectionately known as the "Ambassador of African American Music," was shocked when I told her of the proclamation during a recent interview--yesterday.

As it were, she expressed that, as a Democrat and Obama supporter, she was "profoundly disappointed and saddened" to receive a White House correspondence indicating their plans to do a series of summer concerts with no reference to BMM. Still, she "hopes to continue to try to work with them regarding recognizing Black music in the future."

Apparently she, as well as Kenny Gamble's people, has been trying unsuccessfully to convince the Obama administration to host a reception celebrating the major milestone of Black Music Month's 30th anniversary, and recognizing Black music for what it is--a multibillion dollar industry and one of America's leading exports. Mind you, this is no small thing at a time when American exports--besides munitions--are few and far between.

And people are talking...

I first became aware of this situation while researching this subject, specifically when I read "Open Letter to President Barack Hussein Obama: What About We People Who are Darker than Blue?"

Even the Hip Hop Republicans want to know what's up with the Obama administration's silence on Black Music Month, especially after all the love and support that the industry continues to shower on the First Family. Not to mention the myriad industry endorsements during the presidential campaign, recently compiled in "Black Music Month: Top 10 Hip-Hop Obama Endorsements."

Seeking some clarification on the matter, I spoke to Cory Ealons, White House Director of African American Media and Coordinator of Special Projects. It was he who directed me to the proclamation on the White House website, after which he informed me that, at this time, there are no plans for a White House observance of BMM.

He instead pointed to all the wonderful musical events the Obama White House has hosted, including this week's Jazz Workshop, where members of the great New Orleans Marsalis family provided a master class for school children from across the country--during which, there was no mention of Black Music Month, I pointed out to Ealons.

Further, in the trademark Obama "a rising tide lifts all boats" tradition, Ealons stresses that the Obama administration subscribes to the "365 day" approach to music appreciation--all music. As well they should.

As I explained to the White House representative, I think it is nothing short of beautiful that Black music has been on constant display in the White House. And it did me proud to see the faces of all the beautiful children during the jazz event.

Look, I even think it's mad-cool that the First Dog, Bo Obama, is the namesake of Blues legend Bo Diddley (who inspired Michelle's father's nickname).

I get all that.

But as Williams observes, these are all totally separate issues from that of President Obama continuing the presidential tradition of personally honoring Black Music Month and "the great legacy of those who established the foundation of America's indigenous music, as well as the present generation of gifted music makers."

But hey, the month is not over yet, right? As I told Mr. Ealons in parting, on this matter of paramount symbolic and cultural value, I am going to keep hope alive.

Meanwhile, I think I'm going to put on some Jill Scott or Dianne Reeves, and further reflect on the value of the gift of Black music to me, as an individual.

But what about you?  What does Black music mean to you? Which songs comprise the soundtrack of your life?

Better still, just try to imagine your life without Black music, and its derivatives...

Isn't that a nightmarish scenario?