“No person who examines & reflects, can avoid seeing that there is but one race of people on earth, who differ from each other only according to the soil and climate in which they live.”
– John Gabriel Stedman
The year was 1981, and I was laying in bed, listening to Mr. Magic’s “Rap Attack” show. I was ready to hit record, as Mr. Magic was spinning the wee-hour sounds of some neighborhood locals—headlined by my neighbor, Melvin Glover. You may recognize Melvin and his crew as Grandmaster Flash & the Furious Five. I was not even five minutes into a deep sleep when the world’s tallest break-dancer, my 6’-7” brother, Dwayne, wakes me up to go to a club—on a school night. Arguing with Dwayne (about anything) was pointless, so I took my braids down, grabbed my green and white Puma suit, slipped on my Members Only jacket and we headed for the downtown 6 Train to Bleeker Street.
The club was called The Paradise Garage, which, not-so-coincidently, doubled as a parking garage during the Wall Street business day. You had to be a member to get through the doors which opened at Midnight. Dwayne and I got there an hour before the 2am show. Did I mention it was a school night? The line outside of the garage circled the block and the crowd seemed unfazed by the earthquake-like bass sound that was vibrating concrete, where D.J. Larry La Van mixed the best house music/up-tempo disco NYC has ever experienced. There was no bar in The Paradise Garage, because there is no age limit to get in and the bathrooms are marked only by the persons who are occupying it at the time. The only rule in the Garage was…. before you hailed the cab to take home that “special someone,” you’d better double check that the person you’re leaving with is of the “right” gender.
At 2pm, the lights came up and the show was about to start. On stage was this skinny, very, very light-skinned looking Valley Girl. Larry La Van started spinning this crazy beat and this slim chick started singing this cool hook, “Everybody / dance and sing, get up and do your thing / Everybody, dance and sing, get up and do your thing…..” Hey, in 1981, lyrics were a lot easier to digest. After 90-minutes of straight disco, this chick was pouring down sweat and so was the extremely energized and satisfied crowd. I had a ball. That summer that white chick dropped her debut album called… (you guessed it), Everybody. And, for Madonna the rest as they say is history.
Since 1981, Madonna, without apology, has always weaved her unique style into the fabric of popular culture. She has always played by her own rules. That night at The Garage, her band, which was really dope, featured this short, dark sista whose bass guitar towered over her shaved head. Back in 1981, I had never heard of Me’Shell N’deg’eOcello. Today, I own every CD that bass player has ever released.
I remember when Madonna sampled “Security of the First World” an instrumental joint from Public Enemy; which was the music for her pop single, “Justify My Love.” Imagine this lily-white girl, at the soon-to-be peak of her career, sampled a track from an all black, media- dubbed, militant rap group, with no air play, when she had so many other (safe) options. By the way, Jay-Z’s new single “Show Me What You Got,” is a sample from the same Public Enemy album, It Takes A Nation Of Millions To Hold Us Back.
You didn’t ask me, but it didn’t surprise me that Madonna adopted a dying black kid from Africa. What surprises me is how little African-Americans know about their own dying history.
1 love,
Ray Lewis
