Lady Saw’s “Sycamore Tree” and Tanya Stephens’ “You Nuh Ready For Dis Yet” were the staples on my father’s Joy Ride Riddim cassette tape. He would play it in our 1996 Mazda MPV while my siblings and I helped him wash the car. I considered her the Lil Kim of Dancehall because her lyrics were vulgar, raunchy and direct (but it’s worth mentioning that she has since been baptized and now goes by Minister Marion Hall if you want to look her up).
It’s been 23 years since Andre 3000 stepped to the microphone at the Source Awards and let the world know that “the South got something to say”, and the pop-up party series #ANDWINGZ is sending a reminder that the South ain’t done speaking yet.
If you don't like Brazilian music, it's probably because you haven't heard it before. Just like the culture, it's vibrant, it's creative, it's Black AF.
I haven’t been able to listen to the opening line of my favorite Prince song the same way since he passed on. I guess I should’ve known, by the way you parked your car sideways, that it wouldn’t last . . .
Whether your introduction to Black music was Andre Crouch on the way to church on Sundays, your grandmother’s Etta James record collection, or learning to play the bassline of Mr. Pookie’s Crook for Life on the piano of your elementary school music room, celebrate #BlackMusicMonth with us. For the Culture.
A league that has gained its popularity and prosperity at the expense of so many minority men and women decided that a piece of dyed and stitched cloth was worth more than my right to desire justice.
Fat Kid Deals has given me vinyls and one cent Tropicana orange juice and i’m not going back to the strip club, Steebie.
We’re mourning the loss of you and you’re still in the land of the living. We’re mourning what you meant to us and who you were to us, and wondering if we ever really knew you in the first place. We should have never put you on that pedestal. People are never prepared to handle it well when our icons fall off of them.
The SOULcase isn’t just another showcase. It’s an intimate listening session that doesn’t put on any airs or pretend to be anything except a good time, with good drinks, and good people. It’s a space for the urban sophisticate whose musical palette is sultry enough to pair musical vibes with something brown and on the rocks. The easy-going music connoisseur moved more by quality sounds and ambiance than they are by smoke and mirrors.
It’s a chance for music lovers to connect to artists in ways that have yet to be seen in Dallas.
Black people use different terms to describe death. We say “God called them home”, or that they’ve “Gone on to Glory”. We say they’ve “transitioned”. Words that normalize death and make it easier to process. It sounds gentle, like a soul saying farewell to its earthly form and moving on. But when I think of all the people we’ve lost, I don’t see a transition. I see souls ripped violently from their earthly homes, and rushing past us, screeching, groaning, writhing until they reach that place we think of as “on”.
If the soul of an unarmed Black person leaves this place violently, does it at least get to land in the afterlife softly?
Or is its transition painful as the death?
During the month of March, and the rest of your natural-born life, really, open your eyes to the black women around you and those in our history history as well. Take an interest in who she is, how she feels, what makes her operate and what she has overcome, and maybe you can be a part of the greatness that she is and the greatness that is waiting on her.