|
CDs by Gil-Scott Heron
From
South Africa To South Carolina (1976)
Winter
In America (1974) /
Pieces
Of A Man (1971) /
The First Minute Of A New Day
The Mind Of Gil Scott-Heron
/
Moving Target
* * * *
*
Books by Gil-Scott Heron
The Vulture and The Nigger Factory
/
Small Talk At 125th And Lenox /
So Far. So Good /
Now and Then
* * * *
*
Gil
Scott-Heron, Spoken-Word Musician, Dies at 62—By The
Associated Press—May 27, 2011—Musician Gil Scott-Heron, who
helped lay the groundwork for rap by fusing minimalistic
percussion, political expression and spoken-word poetry on songs
such as "The
Revolution Will Not Be Televised," died Friday at age 62. A
friend, Doris C. Nolan, who answered the telephone listed for
his Manhattan recording company, said he died in the afternoon
at St. Luke's Hospital after becoming sick upon returning from a
European trip. "We're all sort of shattered," she said.
Scott-Heron's influence on rap was such that he sometimes was
referred to as the Godfather of Rap, a title he rejected.
"If there was any
individual initiative that I was responsible for it might have
been that there was music in certain poems of mine, with
complete progression and repeating 'hooks,' which made them more
like songs than just recitations with percussion," he wrote in
the introduction to his 1990 collection of poems, "Now and
Then." He referred to his signature mix of percussion, politics
and performed poetry as bluesology or Third World music. But
then he said it was simply "black music or black American
music." "Because Black Americans are now a tremendously diverse
essence of all the places we've come from and the music and
rhythms we brought with us," he wrote. . . .
Scott-Heron recorded the
song that would make him famous, "The
Revolution Will Not Be Televised," which critiqued mass
media, for the album
125th and Lenox in Harlem in the 1970s. He followed up
that recording with more than a dozen albums, initially
collaborating with musician Brian Jackson. His most recent album
was "I'm New Here," which he began recording in 2007 and was
released in 2010. Throughout his musical career, he took on
political issues of his time, including apartheid in South
Africa and nuclear arms. He had been shaped by the politics of
the 1960s and the black literature, especially of the Harlem
Renaissance.
Scott-Heron was born in
Chicago on April 1, 1949. He was raised in Jackson, Tenn., and
in New York before attending college at Lincoln University in
Pennsylvania. Before turning to music, he was a novelist, at age
19, with the publication of
The Vulture, a murder mystery.He
also was the author of
The Nigger Factory, a social
satire.—NYTimes
* * * *
*
Gil Scott-Heron was the bridge between The Black Arts Movement
and Hip Hop. Surely we are from Allah and to Him we return.—Marvin X
* * * *
*
Gil Scott-Heron dies aged 62—Poet and songwriter was hailed as
'Godfather of Rap' after penning "The
Revolution Will Not Be Televised"—David
Sharrock
* * * *
*
Gil
Scott's Role in an Untelevised Revolution
By
Howard Rambsy
With the passing of
Gil
Scott-Heron [1949-2011], we're certain to hear about his
wonderful career as a poet and musician over the coming days,
weeks . . . years. As we should. But there's another story
that relates to "Scotty," as his childhood friends in Jackson,
Tennessee, where he was raised, used to call him. On
January 25, 1962, Gil Scott-Heron and two other students were
sent by their guardians to Tigrett Junior High School,
effectively desegregating the school, and later by extension the
school system. I know what you're asking. Hadn't the
Supreme Court declared in that 1954
Brown vs. Board of Education that it was
unconstitutional to segregate public schools? Yep, but listen:
some of these Southern towns don't care about your fancy laws
and equality and constitution.
I heard about Scotty as one of those three students who helped
desegregate the schools before I became aware of his talents and
many contributions as a poet and musician. Well, in a way, I
heard about his very early years as a musician because he took
piano lessons with my aunt when adolescent growing up in
Jackson. The schools in Jackson, where I was raised, did not
officially become desegregated until the early 1990s. I was just
starting high school at the time. It was in the 1962, after Gil
Scott-Heron and others went to Tigrett, that got black folks
unofficially attending more than just the black schools.
When the older folks who really helped change the system
reflected on things at the time of official desegregation in the
early 1990s, they'd mention this guy Scotty, along with his
classmates such as Brenda Moses and Madeline Walker who were the
first black students to go to the white schools. I've been
switching back and forth saying Gil Scott-Heron and Scotty, as I
spoke with my aunt early today about him. She, like all his
other friends in Jackson, only knew him as Scotty. In
1963, Lille Scott, his grandmother died, and so Scotty left
Jackson and moved to New York City with his mother. Scotty was
then on the road to becoming "the" Gil Scott-Heron.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Source:
SIUEB
* * * *
*
Gil Scott-Heron "Blue Collar"
Breath
of Life Music
Commentary by Mtume ya Salaam
& Kalamu ya
Salaam
I’m a Teamster and
proud of it. Before I became one though, I can’t say I
knew for sure what that meant. What it means is, I
belong to one of the largest labor unions in
America—specifically, the one that includes truck
drivers and dock workers. Originally, ‘teamsters’ were
mule-cart drivers or something like that, so that’s the
where the name came from.
The other day on the radio, I heard an economist assert
in an op-ed that the reason unions are losing power and
membership in America is because they are no longer
needed. The middle class in America is strong, he said,
standards of living have never been higher, and
therefore, unions have become redundant. Unions exist so
that blue-collar individuals can earn a good living
wage, health care and a pension. Since all of those
things are already being taken care of by the free
market system, he asked, why do we still need unions at
all? To hear him tell it, the squeeze on unions is a
problem providing its own solution. Union enrollment is
down because the problem unions are supposed to correct
is no longer much of a problem.
On the surface level, the argument sounds good. But dig
a little deeper and it reveals itself to be specious at
best. Using the same line of reasoning, I guess we can
conclude that the nationwide nursing shortage is because
there aren’t enough sick people and the decline in
enrollment at police academies across the country is
because there just isn’t enough crime to go around. It
makes about as much sense.
I don’t know what fantasy land the op-ed guy resides in,
but in the real world where I live, health care costs
for the average worker are going through the roof,
virtually no one has a pension to look forward to and
wages are getting stretched thinner and thinner. I need
to look no further than non-union trucking companies to
see this reality. At my last trucking job – which was
non-unionized – health care cost me $90 per week (vs. $0
per week now), my only option for retirement was a
partially-funded 401k (as opposed to a fully-funded
pension) and I got paid almost eight dollars per hour
less than I get paid now. And that was actually a pretty
good company. The job I had before that one was such a
fucked up experience I don’t even want to describe it
now for fear of waking up. I might still be stuck in
that hellhole and only dreaming that I’m typing this.
The point is, without the union, my working life would
suck.
In arguing against unions, the op-ed guy reported that
Americans, as a whole, have never been wealthier. He
also reported that household income among middle-class
Americans is higher now than it has ever been, even
adjusted for inflation. All of that is true. What he
didn’t say was that nearly all middle-class families
earn that extra money by having both Mom and Dad working
full-time. What he forgot to mention was in the last
forty years the top 20% in America have seen a nearly
100% gain in their annual income while the rest of us
have seen about a 20% or so gain…and that’s with both
parents working! If you’re older than thirty, ask
yourself, did your Mom work outside of the house? Maybe
she did, maybe she didn’t. Now ask, did your grandmother
work outside of the house? I’ll bet the majority didn’t.
Now ask yourself
this question. If you’re a woman – do you work
full-time? If you’re a man – does your girlfriend or
wife work full-time? I’ll bet they do. If you factor in
the additional worker in most households, I’d argue that
middle-class and working-class incomes have gone DOWN in
the last forty years. Not up at all. Meanwhile, I
deliver imported Italian tile and bamboo flooring and
flat-screen televisions to the top 20% all day everyday
and I can report with confidence that not many of the
Moms in La Jolla or Del Mar or Rancho Santa Fe are out
working 40+ hours per week unless they’re doing so by
choice. And good for them. I wish every mother could
make that choice if she wanted to.
Now, on to the music, shall we? Gil Scott-Heron is known
as a Black revolutionary, a poet who fought fiercely for
the rights of Black people in America and around the
world. What few know about Gil is he also consistently
fought for the working class of all races. Over and
over, Gil sang about and talked about the plight of the
ordinary working man and woman. When he did, race would
scarcely, if ever, be mentioned. Part of Gil’s
brilliance was he recognized a long, long time ago that
race was just one part of the system of oppression in
America. Here, in America, class warfare is the real
deal. If racism is a symptom, classism is the illness
itself.
Gil Scott-Heron may have started out in 1971 as an angry
young revolutionary, spouting racially-charged polemics,
but my man was also twenty-two years old at the time.
Ten year later, when Gil cut “Blue Collar” (from the
Moving Target
LP), he was older, wiser and in tone
at least, quieter. He realized that the battle for
equality wasn’t just in the urban centers where most of
the black and Latino folk are, but also “between the
cities and the towns,” where you’ll find mostly
working-class white folk, many of whom are dealing with
the same or similar economic pressures as working class
black people deal with in Chicago or L.A. or NYC. “You
can’t name where I ain’t been down,” Gil sings, “’Cause
there ain’t nowhere I ain’t been done.”
A couple years earlier, Gil cut a track named “Three
Miles Down” (from the out-of-print LP Secrets) in which
he focused on coal miners, not exactly the first
profession that comes to mind when one thinks of black
people. Gil likens working in a coal mine to “working in
a graveyard.” Except in this case, you’re actually
working in the graveyard because “there ain’t no
sunshine underground.” Since 1978 when Gil first
recorded “Three Miles Down,” the song has become one of
his most-performed live numbers. We’ll include both the
original (which is more affecting) and the live version
(which is a lot longer and, as unlikely as it may seem,
very funny. BTW, the live version is from a set named
Tales Of Gil Scott-Heron. It’s out-of-print as well.)
We’ve got something of a blues theme going, so let’s go
to a spoken-word piece in which Gil breaks down the
meaning of the blues. The poem “H20 Gate Blues” is an
example of Gil’s always-brilliant political commentary
(it’s available on
The Mind Of Gil Scott-Heron).
I remember hearing this piece back when I was 10 or 11
years old. I used to play it over and over, having not
even the slightest idea what Gil was talking about but
being totally captivated by the sound of his voice. His
confidence, his dexterity, his timing – it’s a beautiful
thing even if you can’t understand the words. And again,
you’ll hear how Gil uses his breakdown of the aftermath
of the Vietnam War and the Watergate scandal to talk
about the class system in America and around the world.
Let’s go back to
1971.
Pieces Of A Man was Gil’s first foray into
full-out song-writing and singing. (He’d previously
released Small Talk At 125th & Lenox which was a
collection of poetry set to drumming, Last Poets style.)
The cut I want to mention from this album is “Save The
Children.” There’s one couplet in particular that stands
out:
My little Tommy he said he wants to be a
fireman
And little Mary she said she got to teach
school |
Little Tommy and little Mary want to be a fireman and a
school teacher? What a cliché, right? Yes, and I think
intentionally so. Even in 1971, even right on top of the
Black Power era, I believe Gil was already singing about
class inequality. When he said “we’ve got to do
something to save the children,” I don’t think he meant
we have to save them from death or prison or anything of
the sort. I think he meant we need to save them from
things like shrinking wages, virtually non-existent
health care and empty pension accounts. He meant,
ordinary people deserve good lives too. That’s the
reason, I think, that he chose “typical American” names
like Tommy and Mary and that’s the reason he chose such
obvious middle-class jobs as fireman and school teacher.
He was saying, we have to save the ordinary dreams of
ordinary people because we are the ordinary people. As I
look around at the outsourcing of American jobs, the
ever-increasing number of workers without health care
and the almost-daily news of corporate buy outs, mergers
and lay-offs, I’m not so sure that we’ve followed Gil’s
advice.—Mtume ya Salaam
* * *
* *
The Great Goodness of Gil’s
Music
Gil represents the best of conscious black artists. And,
ironically, the worst. His work is sterling. Being a
junkie is shit. His will to create must be off the
charts. How else could he produce even as he is a dope
fiend, i.e. someone for whom there are but two dominant
realities: 1. Being high and 2. Getting high.
But beyond working through his problems of substance
abuse, and beyond the general high quality of his
artistic work there is an important element that
separates Gil from other conscious songwriters,
performers and spoken word artists. Gil Scott has a
sharply defined and brilliantly articulated working
class consciousness. He knows the real basis of the
differences and problems within contemporary American
society is rooted in class warfare. Gil is clear about
that war and is unstinting in boldly and cogently
addressing class struggle, a struggle which most of us
don’t think about, not to mention include as a focal
point of our artwork.
Beyond the great goodness of the music and the beauty of
his delivery, I am convinced that people around the
world respond to Gil addressing the concerns of people
whom society forces to work (and work hard) just to eek
out a meager living. Throwing the spotlight on class
struggle not only appeals to the majority of people in
today’s world, a working class focus also appeals across
generational lines.
I’m adding “Alien” and “This Is A Prayer For Everybody”
to the jukebox and I’m also including a live version of
“Save The Children.” “Alien” is an old song first
recorded in 1979 and released on the now-out-of-print
album called 1980. Dig, over thirty years ago Gil
Scott-Heron was addressing the plight of Hispanic
aliens. How’s that for social insight and prophesy in
terms of what issues were going to increase in
relevancy?
The first version is the original 1980 version and the
second is a 1994 live recording featuring Ron Holloway
on saxophone and Gil introducing the song in Spanish.
“This Is A Prayer For Everybody” is one of my favorite
recordings. The movement of the chord choices give off
an aura of optimism. The rolling rhythm puts the
listener in a relaxed mood. The tenor solo at the end is
lyrical and simultaneously jazzy. I used to play this
song to end my three hour Sunday morning radio programs.
In terms of the lyrics, this is one of the most positive
songs ever written but it is a clear-eyed positivity
that recognizes there is a lot of wrong but emphatically
states that together we can overcome. Or, as Gil says:
“We must be strong and not become bitter.”
Which, coming back to Gil’s personal travails with drug
addiction, Gil exemplifies. Regardless of the depth of
his problems, he continues to push forward and has not
become bitter. The absence of bitterness is beautiful.
Absolutely beautiful.
Gil Scott-Heron is an amazing man—a brilliant songwriter
yes but also an amazing individual who continues strong
in the struggle despite his obvious personal
contradictions. Viva la revolucion! Viva Gil
Scott-Heron!—Kalamu ya Salaam
* * * * *
Father of hip-hop, Gil
Scott-Heron is a survivor—Jonathan
Takiff Philadelphia Daily News—In the late 1960s and
'70s, there were none hipper or signifying more on the conscious
black arts scene than Gil Scott-Heron. The Lincoln University-
and Johns Hopkins-educated poet, author and English professor
also discovered his voice as a dramatically throaty, impassioned
jazz- and blues-tinged singer. Though he has just released the
long-overdue album
I'm New Here, he was nurturing a modern neo-soul sound
long before the style had a name. And if you ask any of the
world's most relevant rappers — from Chuck D to Common — who
inspired them, odds are good they'll cite this guy.
In fact, Scott-Heron is
still living down his rep as “the father of hip-hop,” cited for
predicting (first to a bongo beat and later with a jazz combo)
that "The
Revolution Will Not Be Televised." He also put a harsh
spotlight on South African apartheid in the bluesy holler
"What's the Word? Johannesburg," pondered the social cost of
putting "Whitey on the Moon" and characterized the presidency of
former actor Ronald Reagan as just another B Movie. So what does
Scott-Heron think of all he's wrought? “My kids like hip-hop,
and I like my kids,” he said diplomatically. “That's who they're
ready for. I'm not supposed to like it. They're not doing it for
me.”
HoustonChronicle
* * * * *
Gil
Scott-Heron is back—and as challenging as ever—By Patrick Neate—When I suggest to Scott-Heron that his work has been a
victim of his convictions, he responds with enthusiasm: “Did we
make people feel uncomfortable? Maybe we did, but that’s for
them to judge. Like I say, we’ve been heard of more than we been
heard. So, if they felt uncomfortable, at least that would mean
they heard it. . . .
“As far as I’m concerned,
what we were doing was necessary. When we released Johannesburg,
people didn’t want to talk about South Africa; so we were taking
a chance. I felt somebody’s got to bring it up, but I didn’t
necessarily intend it to be me. I would have rather it was
congressmen or those intended to talk about these things, but
they wouldn’t. But if my children were to ask me what I’d said,
I wanted to have an answer. Nowadays, there are more artists
prepared to address these issues and that makes it harder to
control. But then they could control it simply by removing my
stuff from the shelves. And they did. Now they’d have to take
out half the f***ing store.” He laughs heartily.
TimesOnline
* * * * *
New York Is Killing Me
Excerpts by
Alec Wilkinson
9 August
2010
Scott-Heron’s parents
separated when he was two years old, and while his mother went
to Puerto Rico to teach English he lived with his grandmother in
Jackson. “My grandmother was dead serious,” he said one day,
sitting on his couch. “Her sense of humor was a secret. She
started me playing the piano. There was a funeral parlor next
door to our house, and they had this old piano that they used
for wakes and funerals, and they were getting ready to take it
to the junk yard. She wanted me to play hymns for the ladies’
sewing circle that met every Thursday, and she bought the piano
for six dollars, and she paid a lady up the street five or ten
cents a lesson to teach me to play four hymns, ‘What a Friend We
Have in Jesus,’ ‘Rock of Ages,’ ‘The Old Rugged Cross,’ and I
can’t think of the other one. I was eight years old, and I had
started to listen to WDIA in Memphis, and they would play the
blues. When I was practicing, I would have to mix them, because
my grandmother was not big on the blues. When she was out in the
yard, I can play what I want, but if she’s in the house I got to
mix John Lee Hooker with ‘Rock of Ages.’ ”
The phone rang, but he
ignored it. “I found my grandmother dead,” he went on. “It shook
me up. I got up to make her breakfast, and I knew it was strange
that she wasn’t stirring. I went in to wake her, and she was
laying in rigor mortis”—he leaned back and held his legs and
arms stiff—“and I’m done. I called next door, and the kid picked
up the phone, and I was so wild, he dropped it. I went outside
and saw the woman from the house going to work, and she came and
took over. I was twelve.”
With his mother and her
brother, Scott-Heron moved to an apartment in the Bronx, and his
mother went to work for the city housing authority. Before long,
his uncle moved out, and his mother couldn’t afford the rent, so
she put her name on a list for an apartment in a project in
Chelsea, in Manhattan. “Black people didn’t want to live in
Chelsea, but we just wanted to go somewhere,” Scott-Heron said.
“We started in ’65. It was eighty-five per cent Puerto Rican,
fifteen per cent white, and me.” . . .
Scott-Heron was one of five
black students among a class of a hundred, and in his second
year he got in trouble for playing the piano. “They had a
beautiful Steinway they used for the choir and the chorus, but I
got caught using it to play the Temptations,” he said. “A guy
came in and screamed at me to stop, and they put a sign up
saying ‘Do Not Play.’ A few days later, he came in, and I’m
sitting under the sign playing the piano. So they told me they
were going to call my mother, and I laughed—not because I was
being disrespectful, although he took it that way—but because I
thought, You really don’t want to get my mother into this.
But they called her and
told her to come to a disciplinary meeting, and the evening
before she asked me what had happened, and I told her. And she
said, ‘Well, did you hit the man?,’ and I said, ‘No, I was
playing the piano.’ I tried to explain that there had been no
rule against it until I did it. A lot of kids had been going up
there to play ‘Chopsticks,’ I said, and she asked me again, did
I hit him. She had reached the conclusion that I had done
something so awful that I didn’t want to describe it, because
she couldn’t imagine that they had called her up there to tell
her I had been playing the piano.”
The meeting took place
around a horseshoe-shaped table. “My mother listened to them,
and when they were finished she said, ‘You all know where we
live, and the difficulties of our life, so I’m not going to talk
about that. We got burglaries, assaults, muggings—it’s not the
best place to raise a child—but whenever something happens down
there that might involve my son, I don’t call you. I figure
that’s my area, and this is yours. Now, I have read your
discipline handbook, and what I suggest you do is expel him,
because it’s this way or that, near as I can tell, so what I’m
going to do right now, since this is your area, I’m going to
leave and go to work, because if I don’t get there soon, they’re
going to take half my day’s wages from me, and when I get home
this evening he’ll tell me what you decided, but, if you’re
asking my opinion, you have to expel him. We have really enjoyed
it here, and it has added to my son’s life, and I think we’ve
added to your ethical-culture thing, but I’m going to go now,
and you’ll excuse my son because he’s got to walk me to the
subway. Thank you all very much.’ She got up and put on her
coat, and I took a hard look at the man who had started all
this, to say, ‘See, I told you you didn’t want to get my mama
involved.’
“She walked to the subway
in a stone silence. All she said was ‘I want you to leave these
people’s piano alone. You’re not here to play the piano.’ I
said, ‘What if they expel me?’ ‘Then you won’t have to worry
about it; you’ll be someplace else. You leave these people’s
stuff alone, and when you tell me something from now on I’ll
believe you.’ ” Scott-Heron was made to stay after school
three Wednesdays in a row to wash out the brushes in the art
room. A classmate, Roderick Harrison, says that he remembers two
things about Scott-Heron. “He could hold a classroom or a
hallway in thrall” is one of them. The other recollection is of
his mother. “She was,” he told me, “imposing.” —NewYorker
* *
* * *
|
The
Revolution Will Not Be Televised
Lyrics by Gil Scott-Heron
You will not be able to stay home, brother.
You will not be able to plug in, turn on and cop
out.
. . .You will not be able to lose yourself on skag
and skip,
Skip out for beer during commercials,
Because the revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be brought to you by Xerox
In 4 parts without commercial interruptions.
The revolution will not show you pictures of Nixon
blowing a bugle and leading a charge by John
Mitchell, General Abrams and Spiro Agnew to eat
hog maws confiscated from a Harlem sanctuary.
The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be brought to you by the
Schaefer Award Theatre and will not star Natalie
Woods and Steve McQueen or Bullwinkle and Julia.
The revolution will not give your mouth sex appeal.
The revolution will not get rid of the nubs.
The revolution will not make you look five pounds
thinner, because the revolution will not be
televised, Brother.
There will be no pictures of you and Willie May
pushing that shopping cart down the block on the
dead run,
or trying to slide that color television into a
stolen ambulance.
NBC will not be able predict the winner at 8:32
or report from 29 districts.
The revolution will not be televised.
There will be no pictures of pigs shooting down
brothers in the instant replay.
There will be no pictures of pigs shooting down
brothers in the instant replay.
There will be no pictures of Whitney Young being
run out of Harlem on a rail with a brand new
process.
There will be no slow motion or still life of Roy
Wilkens strolling through Watts in a Red, Black and
Green liberation jumpsuit that he had been saving
For just the proper occasion.
Green Acres, The Beverly Hillbillies, and
Hooterville
Junction will no longer be so damned relevant, and
women will not care if Dick finally gets down with
Jane on Search for Tomorrow because Black people
will be in the street looking for a brighter day.
The revolution will not be televised.
There will be no highlights on the eleven o'clock
news and no pictures of hairy armed women
liberationists and Jackie Onassis blowing her nose.
The theme song will not be written by Jim Webb,
Francis Scott Key, nor sung by Glen Campbell, Tom
Jones, Johnny Cash, Englebert Humperdink, or the
Rare Earth.
The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be right back after a
message
about a white tornado, white lightning, or white
people.
You will not have to worry about a dove in your
bedroom, a tiger in your tank, or the giant in your
toilet bowl.
The revolution will not go better with Coke.
The revolution will not fight the germs that may
cause bad breath.
The revolution will put you in the driver's seat.
The revolution will not be televised, will not be
televised,
will not be televised, will not be televised.
The revolution will be no re-run brothers;
The revolution will be live.
|
* * * * *
 |
The Vulture and The Nigger Factory
is an omnibus edition of the two highly successful
novels from the early 1970s by one of America's most
outspoken and important postwar commentators on
race, politics, and culture
Scott-Heron's
highly successful two novels are now packaged
together for the first time.
The Vulture—first published in
1970 and digging the rhythms of the street, where
the biggest deal life has to offer is getting high,
The Vulture is a hip and
fast-moving thriller. It relates the strange story
of the murder of a teenage boy called John
Lee—telling it in the words of four men who knew him
when he was just another kid working after school,
hanging out, waiting for something to happen. Just
who did kill John Lee and why?
‘Here lies a
man with a kind heart and a good will.’ . . . All
the nice comments that were whispered about you . .
. were as worthless as the air that transported them
from mouth to ear. |
The Vulture relates the strange story of
John Lee’s murder—telling it in the words of four men who knew
him when he was just another kid working after school, hanging
out, waiting for something to happen. Just who did kill John Lee
and why? A hip and fast-moving thriller.
The Nigger Factory
is a biting satire set on the campus of Sutton University,
Virginia. The failure of Sutton to embrace the changing
attitudes of the sixties has necessitated has caused
disaffection among the black students and revolution is nigh.
* * * * *
Gil Scott-Heron on You-Tube
Me And The Devil /
Winter in
America /
We Beg Your
Pardon /
Message to
the Messengers /
Johannesburg
/
The Bottle /
Is That
Jazz? /
Ain't No
Such Thing As A Superman
I'm New Here
/
Me and the Devil /
New York Is Killing Me /
I'll Take
Care of You /
The
Revolution Will Not Be Televised /
Jose Campos
Torres
Gil Scott Heron Godfather of Rap 1 of 6 /
Gil Scott Heron Godfather of Rap 2 of 6
/
Gil Scott Heron Godfather of Rap 3 of 6
Gil
Scott Heron Godfather of Rap 4 of 6 /
Gil
Scott Heron Godfather of Rap 5 of 6 /
Gil Scott Heron Godfather of Rap 6 of 6
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[Gil
Scott-Heron] was a great poet, a giant of the
spoken word, and Gil Scott Heron spoke about
politics as it was. He challenged the corrupt
nature of the Nixon Administration, and the fact
that Ford had pardoned Nixon. When I was a young
man growin' up in South Carolina, Gil Scott Heron
sang about nuclear weapons that were being built in
South Carolina, nuclear radiological waste that was
being stored in South Carolina. He sang about the
connection between South Carolina and South Africa.
Gil Scott Heron spoke truth to power, and was
probably one of the last contemporary artists whose
words challenged the empire that is America. And
you don't have any writers or any poets or any
musicians that can parallel his work on the
contemporary scene. To say he's the father of modern
hip hop, of modern rap is to say that they have
words in common with him, but surely the message
doesn't even compare to his body of work and the
teaching, the radical progressivism that he
represented throughout his life, no one can match
that. . . .
His body of
work is just so large. I mean everyone remembers "The
Revolution Will Not Be Televised," but a lotta people don't
remember "H20GATE,
Watergate Blues," in which he sang about Richard
Nixon and Watergate, or, when Gerald Ford gave Nixon
a pardon, "We Beg Your
Pardon, America," or "Whitey on the Moon":
"Rat bit my sister today, but Whitey's on the moon."
That's an awesome song. His body of work is just
so huge that y'know one thing about his passing that
has been kind of a mixed blessing is that people
have gone back to listen to all the work that he
produced in his life.—Kevin
Alexander Gray /
AnnGarrison
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* * *
Gil Scott-Heron was more than the 'Godfather
of Rap'
Excerpts by Earl Ofari
Hutchinson
29 May
2011
The irony
is that Heron took great pains to distance
himself from many of the rap artists that
purportedly were influenced by him. He decried
their resort to shock, demeaning, and degrading
lyrics and words, and their lust for the bling
and opulence, at the expense of socially
grounded and edgy lyrics that blasted oppression
and injustice.
Heron 's true
importance and legacy was that he was the textbook
liberated spirit, a musical social and political
griot who refused to compromise or tone down his
scathing political attacks on the establishment.
Heron didn't just hector, pick at and tweak the
establishment to protest racism and the struggles
against injustice. He was a thought provoking
musical educator. And nothing was off limits. He
railed at the pardon of Richard Nixon on "We Beg
Your Pardon." He lashed out at government lies,
deceit and corruption in the Watergate scandal on
""H2O Gate Blues."
He was outraged
at the murder of Jose Campos Torres, an army vet
murdered by two Houston police officers, on "Jose
Campos Torres." He took a shot at the spending on
space exploration with so many problems on Earth on
"Space Shuttle." He mocked America's bicentennial
hoopla in 1976 on "Bicentennial Blues." He lambasted
prison abuses following the Attica prison uprising
on "The Prisoner."
His landmark
album Winter in America was at both a grim, bitter,
look at racial and political oppression in America
and optimistic call for the forces of hope and
change to renew the struggle against it. His equally
signature From South Africa to South Carolina
forcefully and brilliantly linked the struggles of
African and African-Americans against
apartheid,racism, colonialism and neo-colonialism.
To Heron, the struggles were one and the same. The
oppressor was one and the same, and those struggling
against it shared a common bond.
The other mark
of Heron's genius was that he did not just wage a
bitter lyrical battle against the purveyors of
oppression. He did it with style, wit, and humor.
There was a sort of impishness in his satirizing and
poking fun at everyone from Nixon to the mainstream
civil rights leaders of the day.— TheGrio
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The Funk Era and Beyond
New Perspectives on Black Popular
Culture
Edited by Tony Bolden
Paying homage to the ancestors (Jean
Toomer, Zora Neale Hurston,
Professor Longhair), sitting at the
feet of the elders (George Clinton,
Sly Stone, James Brown) and
welcoming a brand new generation of
griots headed by funkmaster Aaron
McGruder,
The Funk Era and Beyond
fills the largest remaining gap in
the conversation on African-American
music. Bolden's collection is
theoretically sophisticated,
endlessly provocative and, best of
all, a joy to read.”—Craig
Werner, Professor and Chair,
Department of Afro-American Studies,
University of Wisconsin-Madison and
the author of
A Change Is Gonna Come: Music, Race
& the Soul of America
This engaging book takes the reader
on a journey across the
multi-layered and multidisciplinary
terrain of funk. This series of
essays on music and the visual and
literary arts reveal how ‘da funk’
represents innovation and aesthetic
principles rooted in the Black
vernacular, which defines the
uniqueness of Black creativity.
The Funk Era and Beyond
is a must-read to understand funk as
a philosophy, an attitude, a way of
life, and more broadly, a cultural
phenomena.—Portia
K. Maultsby, Indiana University and
editor of
African American Music: An
Introduction
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The Funk Era and Beyond
New Perspectives on Black Popular
Culture
Edited by Tony Bolden
Table of Contents
I. Prelude from the Funkmaster * Sly
Stone and the Sanctified Church--Mark
Anthony Neal *
II. Introduction * Theorizing the Funk:
An Introduction--Tony Bolden *
III. Inside the Funk Shop: Writings on
the Funk Band Era *A Philosophy of Funk:
The Politics and Pleasure of a
Parliafunkadelicment Thang!—Amy Nathan
Wright * James Brown: Icon of Black
Power—Rickey Vincent * "The Land of
Funk": Dayton, Ohio--Scot Brown * From
the Crib to the Coliseum: An Interview
with Bootsy Collins—Thomas Sayers Ellis
*
IV.Impressions: Funkativity and Visual
Art * Cane Fields, Blues Text-ure: An
Improvisational—Karen Ohnesorge * Good
Morning Blues—Maurice Bryan * Shine2.0:
Aaron McGruder's Huey Freeman as
Contemporary Folk Hero—Howard Rambsy II
*
V. Funkintelechy: (Re)cognizing Black
Writing *Alabama—Aldon Nielsen * Jazz
Aesthetics and the Revision of Myth in
Leon Forrest's There Is a Tree More
Ancient than Eden—Dana Williams * Living
the Funk: Lifestyle, Lyricism, and
Lessons in—Carmen Phelps * Modern and
Contemporary Art of Black Women *
Cultural Memory in Zora Neale Hurston's
Mules and Men Ondra Krouse-Dismukes*
VI. Imagine That: Fonky Blues Rockin and
Rollin * Funkin' with Bach: The Impact
of Professor Longhair on Rock'n'Roll—Cheryl
L. Keys * Blue/Funk as Political
Philosophy: The Poetry of
Gil Scott-Heron—Tony
Bolden
Tony Bolden is Associate Professor
of African American Literature and
Culture, University of Alabama and is
the author of Afro-Blue:Improvisations
in African American Poetry and Culture |
* * *
* *
* * * * *
 |
Salvage the Bones
A Novel by Jesmyn Ward
On one level, Salvage the Bones is a simple story about a poor black family that’s about to be trashed by one of the most deadly hurricanes in U.S. history. What makes the novel so powerful, though, is the way Ward winds private passions with that menace gathering force out in the Gulf of Mexico. Without a hint of pretension, in the simple lives of these poor people living among chickens and abandoned cars, she evokes the tenacious love and desperation of classical tragedy. The force that pushes back against Katrina’s inexorable winds is the voice of Ward’s narrator, a 14-year-old girl named Esch, the only daughter among four siblings. Precocious, passionate and sensitive, she speaks almost entirely in phrases soaked in her family’s raw land. Everything here is gritty, loamy and alive, as though the very soil were animated. Her brother’s “blood smells like wet hot earth after summer rain. . . . His scalp looks like fresh turned dirt.” Her father’s hands “are like gravel,” while her own hand “slides through his grip like a wet fish,” and a handsome boy’s “muscles jabbered like chickens.” Admittedly, Ward can push so hard on this simile-obsessed style that her paragraphs risk sounding like a compost heap, but this isn’t usually just metaphor for metaphor’s sake. She conveys something fundamental about Esch’s fluid state of mind: her figurative sense of the world in which all things correspond and connect. She and her brothers live in a ramshackle house steeped in grief since their mother died giving birth to her last child. . . . What remains, what’s salvaged, is something indomitable in these tough siblings, the strength of their love, the permanence of their devotion.— WashingtonPost
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Sister Citizen: Shame, Stereotypes, and Black Women in
America
By Melissa V.
Harris-Perry
According to the
author, this society has historically exerted
considerable pressure on black females to fit into one
of a handful of stereotypes, primarily, the Mammy, the
Matriarch or the Jezebel. The selfless
Mammy’s behavior is marked by a slavish devotion to
white folks’ domestic concerns, often at the expense of
those of her own family’s needs. By contrast, the
relatively-hedonistic Jezebel is a sexually-insatiable
temptress. And the Matriarch is generally thought of as
an emasculating figure who denigrates black men, ala the
characters Sapphire and Aunt Esther on the television
shows Amos and Andy and Sanford and Son, respectively.
Professor Perry
points out how the propagation of these harmful myths
have served the mainstream culture well. For instance,
the Mammy suggests that it is almost second nature for
black females to feel a maternal instinct towards
Caucasian babies.
As for the source
of the Jezebel, black women had no control over their
own bodies during slavery given that they were being
auctioned off and bred to maximize profits. Nonetheless,
it was in the interest of plantation owners to propagate
the lie that sisters were sluts inclined to mate
indiscriminately.
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* * * *
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The Last Holiday: A Memoir
By Gil Scott Heron
Shortly after we republished The Vulture and The Nigger Factory, Gil started to tell me about The Last Holiday, an account he was writing of a multi-city tour that he ended up doing with Stevie Wonder in late 1980 and early 1981. Originally Bob Marley was meant to be playing the tour that Stevie Wonder had conceived as a way of trying to force legislation to make Martin Luther King's birthday a national holiday. At the time, Marley was dying of cancer, so Gil was asked to do the first six dates. He ended up doing all 41. And Dr King's birthday ended up becoming a national holiday ("The Last Holiday because America can't afford to have another national holiday"), but Gil always felt that Stevie never got the recognition he deserved and that his story needed to be told. The first chapters of this book were given to me in New York when Gil was living in the Chelsea Hotel. Among the pages was a chapter called Deadline that recounts the night they played Oakland, California, 8 December; it was also the night that John Lennon was murdered. Gil uses Lennon's violent end as a brilliant parallel to Dr King's assassination and as a biting commentary on the constraints that sometimes lead to newspapers getting things wrong. —Jamie Byng, Guardian / Gil_reads_"Deadline" (audio) / Gil Scott-Heron
& His Music Gil Scott
Heron Blue Collar
Remember Gil Scott- Heron |
* *
* * *
The White Masters of the
World
From
The World and Africa, 1965
By W. E. B. Du Bois
W. E. B. Du Bois’
Arraignment and Indictment of White Civilization
(Fletcher)
* *
* * *
Ancient African Nations
* * * * *
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Negro Digest /
Black World
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* * * * *
The Death of Emmett Till by Bob Dylan
/
The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll
/
Only a Pawn in Their Game
Rev. Jesse Lee Peterson Thanks America for
Slavery
* *
* * *
The Journal of Negro History issues at Project Gutenberg
The
Haitian Declaration of Independence 1804
/
January 1, 1804 -- The Founding of
Haiti
* * * * *
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update 3 February
2012
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