"So many millions feel this strong/All these people can't be wrong..."
I suppose the problem with protest songs is that there is always something to protest.
Oh the heaviness I feel on my heart right now. Dear readers and listeners, by this time, I am certain that you have heard about the tragic death of 19 year old Tony Robinson, which occurred over two weeks ago. It was an incident where yet another unarmed Black man was gunned down by a White police officer, but this time the tragedy happened in my adopted city of Madison, WI. and upon a thoroughfare that I travel each and every single day. The investigation remains underway, national media has quickly descended and exited the city just as rapidly as Madison, unlike other locations like the besieged Ferguson, MO, did not erupt into the violent flames of riots. That is not to say that there has been no outpouring of anger fueled protest.
On the Saturday morning after the shooting, I ventured to downtown Madison to pick up some coffee and breakfast when I was surprised by the rhythmic chants and marching feet of a Black Lives Matter protest march as organized and led by Madison's Young, Gifted And Black Coalition. What surprised me other than the suddenness of their physical presence to myself, was the sight officers from the Madison Police Department surrounding the group as they marched--but not in contention. No, the police had flanked the protesters within, I would suppose would be a protective shield, an area in which the protest could exist safely. And I do have to say that the sight of police officers allowing and not interfering with the vitriolic chants of "WHO CAN YOU TRUST? NOT THE POLICE!!" or "THE WHOLE DAMN SYSTEM IS GUILTY AS HELL!" or even "FUCK THE POLICE!!" was just the sort of event where one would be prompted to say to themselves, "Only in Madison."
"So many millions feel this strong/All these people can't wrong..."
"So many millions feel this strong/All these people can't be wrong..."
I needed an outlet for my cauldron of emotions which ran the gamut from outrage to sorrow at the status of the city, the country and my place within society as a Black man, which is unquestionably the most precarious it has been within my lifetime. I needed music to help me to process. I needed music to help me channel my rage. I needed music to help me to grieve, to worry, to hope and to heal.
I needed protest music.
CHUCK D.
Released August 1, 2014
If I could wave my magic wand, the voice of Chuck D. would be the sonic boom heard throughout the country from every conceivable sound system as his specialized brand of fury against social injustice is needed more than ever. But if only the masses would be inclined to hear the words he is so passionately compelled to say--as inclined as they were 25 years ago.
It does amaze me how the music and messages of Public Enemy have become so marginalized over the years. Even though the band has continuously released one body slam of an album after another, they have all been relegated to a certain underground status ensuring that the messages that are most needed to be heard on as large of a stage as possible will most likely go unheard completely. It is as if Public Enemy and therefore the voice, lyrics and power of Chuck D. himself are viewed as relics, representative of a long dormant age in hip-hop and perhaps social activism itself.
"The Black In Man," Chuck D.'s latest solo project, and released upon his 54th birthday, only continues this trend as the album was delivered solely in a digital format ad believe me, I cannot even seem to find album information, liner notes or even many of the albums's lyrics on-line anywhere. Yet, as far as I am concerned, his age and his longevity has only increased in sharpness and voluminous power and Chuck D.'s overall messages of self-reliance and Black empowerment combined with his iconic voice have lost none of its ferocious authority and command.
Eschewing the sonic collage aspect of earlier Public Enemy releases, "The Black In Man" contains a sonic palate that combines blasts of hip-hop beats with the sound of classic soul and blues ("PIC I Hate Every Inch Of You"), deep funk ("Leave With Your Own Mind"), hard rock ("ICan"), heavy metal ("Grudge"), and even a cover of the JAMES BROWN Black pride classic "Say It Loud (I'm Black And I'm Proud)." Without question, for me, the album's highlights are the organ drenched "Give We The Pride," a rallying cry for the resurgence of Black pride and self-respect which is augmented by the powerhouse vocals of Mavis Staples. And the second half of this album's one-two punch is the baseball metaphor fueled call to arms of "Get It Right Or Be Gone."
Let me be the first to announce, and vehemently so, that Chuck D. is not a relic and should never be treated as such. He is as up to the minute as the events that occur just outside of our windows but simultaneously sidesteps all manner of attention-starved trends in favor of the strictest adherence to the content of the message, something that is really striving for attention. I urge you to head to YouTube or I-Tunes of whatever streaming services you happen to frequent as take a listen to what Chuck D. has to say, and I believe that he is one of the rarest figures to have transcended his particular genre of rap and hip-hop to truly existing as one of the greatest orators we happen to have walking among us.
FISHBONE
FISHBONE:
John Bigham: Guitars, Keyboards
Chris Dowd: Vocals, Keyboards, Trombone
John Norwood Fisher: Bass Guitar, Vocals
Phillip "Fish" Fisher: Drums and Percussion
Kendall Jones: Vocals, Lead Guitar
Walter A. Kibby II: Vocals, Trumpet
Angelo Moore: Vocals, Saxophone
Produced by Fishbone
Released April 23, 1991
Now this is a powder keg!
Dear readers and listeners, the longer the years pass from this particular album's original release, I grow even more mystified by the profound lack of a major impact it had across the landscape of alternative music. It truly all seemed to be so poised to break the band through to the next level, especially based upon the rising tide of fans and interest in the peerless and completely idiosyncratic music of Fishbone, an all African-American outfit whose amalgamation of punk rock, soul, gospel, jazz, funk, blues and heavy metal made the band defy all categorizations. Yet also, as we live in a narrow minded world, the band has historically been extremely difficult to market to both Black and White audiences.
Regardless, the band's incendiary live performances combined with the hit album "Truth And Soul" (released September 13, 1988) and their iconic band logo kept Fishbone in the public's consciousness to the degree that a breakthrough seemed to be imminent. And yet, upon its release in the spring of 1991, my memory of my friend's reactions to the album were more than a bit muted, as metallic guitars played to the forefront rather than the band's rambunctious horn lines. Furthermore, Fishbone by this point were simply not that much "fun" anymore and the fullness of their social/racial/political agenda was emphasized in earnest making classic party anthems like "Party At Ground Zero," "Lyin' Ass Bitch" and "When Problems Arise" sound like they emerged from a completely different band altogether.
For me, "The Reality Of My Surroundings" was a brilliant, ballistic, body slammer. A rampaging double album on which the band confronted the ills of society and of Black America in particular with an unrepentant vengeance that showcased the full purpose of the band philosophically and politically as well as musically, and trust me, the band's musicianship is superior!
From the album's opening battle cry of "Fight The Youth" to the concluding apocalyptic scorched earth of "Sunless Saturday," Fishbone's "The Reality Of My Surroundings" takes an unapologetically and furiously grim ride. The band sheds much needed light on the day to day lives of inner city Black families in the bouncy "Housework" ("Pops is gone and Mom's working 5 or 6 days a week...Mama's tryin' but we got to survive so now I got to get a 9 to 5"), the futility of cookie-cutter and therefore racially biased education in the roaring "Behavior Control Technician" ("Train my brain to work the way you want me to/Don't question authority see/Be a little zombie that agrees with you/You are strapped with a double standard clip/In a battle you won't win"), endlessly mounting stress in the demented fun-house speed metal of "Pressure" ("PRESSURE when I sit down! PRESSURE when I git up! When I sleep at night, nightmares make me fight!") and the harrowing one-two punch contained within the avant garde "Junkie's Prayer" and the reggae tinged "Pray To The Junkiemaker." Even the brief instrumental "Asswhippin'," which only consists of percussion, the repetitive sounds of whip cracks and singer Angelo Moore's screams and wails conjures up images of both slavery and the corporal punishment administered in the homes (and even schools) of Black families (like my own as I was growing up) in the years and generations since our emancipation.
But if there is just one song from this album that has consistently burst to the forefront of my mind with every fatal injustice committed towards the Black community, it is indeed the pulverizing "So Many Millions," a portion of the chorus I have included at points throughout this posting. Opening with a flurry of Fish's drums that shuffle and skitter and brother John Norwood Fisher's Earth rumbling bass guitar, Fishbone launches into a dark groove that feels like a merging of Curtis Mayfield, Sly and the Family Stone and 1970's era Miles Davis as Angelo Moore releases one of his most impassioned vocals over some of the finest lyrics he has ever written or co-written.
"I cannot get over legitimately the reality of my surroundings do not point to the sky so why should I even try (when there's nuthin' out there to be)," Moore begins. "I cannot grow up to be the President, where only drug dealers own Mercedes Benz/If you tell me otherwise, it will only look like lies (when there's nuthin' out there for me)."
As the songs builds with the conflicting juxtapositions of rising brass yet moaning backing vocals, Moore continues with the following:
"Your education will do me no good in my neighborhood
All I see is scrapin' and scrounging in my neighborhood
If you can show me how to do good in my neighborhood
Maybe I discontinue my lounging in my neighborhood"
And the band marches even further into the fury with lyrics that could easily be utilized as protest sign messages...
"You may have had the chance to stop things before they start.
You may have had the chance.
But it's too late
They're falling apart"
And by the song's conclusion, where the voices have congealed into unionized screams and Fish's drums combined with Kendall Jones' lead guitars are slashing and blasting your speakers apart, the track has boiled over into a violent, riotous, fully unleashed rage that sit at the heart of a community perpetually discriminated against and abused by an indifferent and unfeeling system.
"You beat me, mistreat me and you beat me
Rip my heart out please
And then you get angry when I die
It's a pile of shit in your sugar shack
And I'm gonna step on in when I'm visiting
So I can drag it more all across your floor
It's a pile of shit in the White House
And I'm gonna step on in when I'm visiting
So I can drag it more all across your flag"
Even though this song appears very early within "The Reality Of My Surroundings," it feels as if the entire purpose of the album as a whole and all of the songs contained within have spiraled off from this one selection. In fact, it feels as if this track set the template for what was to follow on the band's then subsequent two albums "Give A Monkey A Brain And He'll Swear He's The Center of The Universe" (released May 23, 1993) and "Chim Chim's Badass Revenge" (released May 21, 1996), thus making the three albums work as an unofficial trilogy, and at its most incendiary.
Yes, there is some semblance of levity within the album through the "If I Were A..." interludes, the overtly and playfully sexual "Naz-tee May'en" and perhaps the Sly and the Family Stone influenced and gospel tinged rave-up "Everyday Sunshine" as they all provide a bit of a (slight) breather from the sound and fury.
But, the punishing power of "The Reality Of My Surroundings" has not only made it one of the very best albums released in the 1990's but I firmly believe that its relevance has only increased over the 24 years since its original release--which is great for the nature of the music and artistry itself but so depressingly sad that within our so-called "post-racial" era, the statements and messages contained on this album still fully describe and give voice to the reality of our surroundings.
Yes, the problem with protest songs is that there is always something, somewhere to protest against. But when the songs speak to the soul, the pain, the injustice, the rage, and finally, the moral arc of justice itself, protest songs are indispensable.
Like the protest music of Chuck D. and Fishbone.
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