Today is the tenth day of Black History Month. Over the course of the month, I’ll spend some time paying tribute to Black artists across a wide and diverse array of genres and styles. My hope is that these posts should serve as an important reminder that the Black experience is the American experience, that Black culture is American culture — and importantly, Black lives and Black art matter. You can’t love Black art and Black artists without giving a shit about Black people.
This month won’t be a comprehensive study of Black music. It’ll be more idiosyncratic because — well, JOVM after all. Now, if you’ve been following this site, you may recall that so far I’ve paid tribute to:
- Chaka Khan
- Reverend Al Green
- The Whispers
- Rick James
- Aretha Franklin
- Sylvester
- Sister Rosetta Tharpe
- Chuck Berry
- Donna Summer
- Janet Jackson
- Prince
- The Isley Brothers
- James Brown
- Whitney Houston
- Bob Marley whose birthday was also on February 6
- Syl Johnson, who we lost earlier this week
- Louis Armstrong
- Ella Fitzgerald
- Roy Ayers
- Queen Latifah
- Mary J. Blige
- B.B. King
- Earth, Wind & Fire
I have to return back to the blues and pay tribute to one of my favorite bluesmen, the legendary John Lee Hooker. His blues is just different: Muddy Water could be hilarious and filthy; B.B. King could be sweet and tender; John Lee Hooker’s work was seeing that tough person in your life, who you thought never cried, crying because life has just finally broken them. Don’t believe me? Listen to “Never Get Out of These Blues Alive” or “Hittin’ the Bottle Again” or “T.B. Sheets” and tell me those are the most devastating songs you’ve ever heard in your life.
