Soul Sessions Vol. 11

IT’S TIME FOR A NEW PARTY 

There are pros and cons to living in any generation.  For example, the Baby Boomers (1946-’64) proudly watched the passage of the Civil Rights Movement. Then, shortly after the new freedom rang, they were softly tapping their hearts when the face of the Movement was assassinated in a bloody act of the Master’s plan.  The Generation Xer’s (1965-’80) rode the explosive wave of the personal computer, then [nearly] burned down an entire city after witnessing the brutal beating of Rodney King.  The Millennials' (1981-'96) PR department worked overtime capturing some of their pendulum-shifting events like: gay marriage, Hurricane Katrina and the debut of MTV’s Real World—which arguably launched the game-changing reality television epidemic.  No one alive on October 3, 1995, will ever forget the O.J. Simpson Trial.  All eyes in the western hemisphere were glued to that contentious courtroom circus, which by all accounts turned the idiot box into Pandora’s.   

When the Simpson verdict tore the racial fabric of America further apart, it was hard to image that things could’ve gotten much worse—yet, here we are.  The infamous railroad tracks that historically separated black and white neighbors finally landed a hall of fame face to stir the racial tension that is now thicker than a Serena Williams seat cushion.  This intense divide blazed for a decade and a half, then in January 2009, the unthinkable happened.  On one seasonably brisk winter afternoon in D.C., the collective climate warmed when the United States of America welcomed the very first Black President, Barack Obama.  

There aren’t many pre-Millennials that would have ever thought they’d live long enough to see that day—even though there are many feeling a tinge of survivor’s remorse.   

Despite all of those extraordinary moments, something was still notably absent in the fabric of the close-knitted black community.  I believe what every post-Baby Boomer's generation is missing is far more subtle.  

The energy, emotion and the ethical make up that is missing from what every black community household should have is a partner to dance with.  

Let's turn the clock back a few decades for a moment.  I remember experiencing this really low-key vibe at this 1984 blue-lit basement party.  The mundane event got a jolt when the DJ dropped the needle on Cheryl Lynn’s 12-inch smash single, “Got To Be Real."  It felt as though everyone at the party did a black quarterback scramble looking for a partner to waltz with.  Many of the shaggy-haired, pinky-fingered ringed, notepad carrying dudes at the party, threw in a breath mint, checked their gold time piece, then poked the top of their bic pen…, were ready to capture the soon-to-be dance partner’s 7-digit (landline) number.  

The blue light party playbook repeated when a rapping New Jersey trio, called the Sugar Hill Gang, dropped “A Rapper’s Delight.” That song's 11-year radio run watched everyone from 18 to 80, take turns butchering their favorite lines, while rapping in the dancing eyes of their smiling partner.  And who alive during that time will ever forget when this obscure U.K. band, Soul II Soul ignited the States with their classic, summertime anthem, “Back to Life?” There wasn’t a person in the room that checked their beepers, because the only person in the world that mattered at that moment was dancing right in front of them. 

In the summer of 1979, the Nile Rogers foundered band, Chic, captured all of those amazing “Good Times” with their 8-minute, culturally-changing R&B single, that became the soundtrack to this fairly new phenomenon called Hip Hop.  All of this joyful music led to the explosive night club scene in America.  Many of those night spots were a safe house to asking a young lady & (a few cougars) to dance.  If someone would have written a manual, it would look like this: 

Step 1: The not-so-impromptu strategy session unfolded between songs.  Believe it or not, most men pegged their dance partner from the time she enter the room— sometimes in the parking lot.  Unbeknownst to her, he made sure she checked off all of his predetermined boxes.  a) No wedding ring (check);  b) Sexy, subtle, stroll (check); c) Real hair (ehhh…);  d) Black back-to-the-Motherland curvatures (check, check, check); e) Semi-interested facial expression when her favorite song played (check).    

Step 2: Waiting for the DJ to spin his signature, sure-fire party starter..., and every DJ had one.  For some disc-jockeys, Frankie Beverly’s “Before I Let Go” was the secret weapon.  Other DJ’s flooded the floor with a Kool & the Gang crowd favorite.  For decades it was Michael Jackson that kept the sweat-pouring bodies off the wall. 

Step 3: At this point the only thing left to execute was “The Perfect Positioning.” Every man had to make sure that he was in the right striking distance, anticipating the exact time the DJ’s hypnotic fingers would drop the magical single.  After all, there is nothing worse than having to walk back across an entire dance floor after a failed attempt to secure your Brown Sugar’s permission to show off the newest moves.  If the guy wasn’t careful his plan would implode, and he'd be left watching his would-be dance partner smiling with some Howard Hewiett-lookin’cat who rehearsed the same playbook.  If you were a step slow and missed the DJ’s que, your plan had to have a contingency.  This aborted mission involved “an exit strategy” that mapped a clear pathway to maneuver and avoid the walk of shame back to the dimly-lit bathroom area.

Every Friday and Saturday for decades was filled with this fun-loving adaption of love.  Some people saved their bi-weekly paychecks in hopes of finding the perfect outfit.  Many women slept standing up on Thursday night, just to keep their hair fresh for that Gap Band single that will drop a bomb in the club and ignite a flame that will burn in their lives forever.  Meanwhile, their male counterparts got the game-plan together by fine-tuning their Thursday nights at the local car wash.  The brothers seeking love would spit-shine their rides, then conclude the plan by cracking the plastic seal on the new pine car fragrance that was shaped like a Christmas tree.  The only motivation behind these silly roleplaying rituals was to hope that the weekend parties would change their romantic lives forever.  Watching this cultural phenomenon play out every weekend is what led to the watercooler huddles on Mondays. 

Sadly, because todays generation doesn’t dance anymore, many young men and women will never experience how to court.  Many of the above-mentioned antics may have seemed silly, but they led to so much more, in-person “getting-to-know you” events.  Those treasured moments led to everything from men opening the car doors or covering women from the late-night rain.  Today's generation will never know what it’s like to feel the heartbeat of a stranger, twirling on the dance floor, being tightly hugged to a Luther Vandross or Tina Marie or James Ingram single.  These real life soundtracks are treasured moments that started families—possibly your family that is reading this now. 

There is one Generation X-er that dedicates his life to keeping this starry-eyed party alive.  Eric Roberson, born September 27, 1976, is one of life’s most prolific, romantic, rendezvous-writing poets ever.  The Rahway, New Jersey rhymester has a catalog of treats that is reminiscent of the golden era of courting.  

The Howard University grad is the ghost-writing, vocal virtuoso behind some of the more noted artists like: Jill Scott, Carl Thomas, Dwele, and Musiq Soulchild just to name a few. Some of E-Ro’s signature songs are just bursting with amorousness.  It would be impossible for me to pick my favorite Eric Roberson LP – although Music Fan First or The Vault Vol. 1 are mainstays and the perfect antidote to mending the torn fabric of this society.  Instead of dissecting one of those treasured treats, I’m going to (instead) build a streaming playlist for Generation Z and beyond.  My only request is to please find yourself a special someone to listen to the playlist with.  Who knows, you might even move some furniture around….  

1. “Can I Borrow You” (Music Fan First August, 2009): This song is the epitome of flirtation.  Right from the start E-Ro ignites a flame between a guy in the club and a woman that checks all his boxes.  The caveat is the impossible-to-ignore dangling carrot on her ring finger -- the night unfolds from there. 

2. “Shake Her Hand” (Mister Nice Guy November, 2011): On this single the feverish flirtation is reversed.  This time the man has a beautiful woman at home, but meets Mrs. Right Now in the club. The young lady senses his apprehension, despite the obvious mutual attraction.  On this song in particular, if Eric wasn’t such a brilliant song writer, he could have clearly wrote the treatments for the “hit” TV show Cheaters. 

3. “Couldn’t Hear Me” (The Vault Vol. 1 July, 2003): This is hands-down my favorite Eric Roberson LP & this single jumps starts an 11-track project of pure flames.  E-Ro’s signature love triangle takes a back seat to a man who is more in love with his craft than his woman—who tries everything in her power to remain supportive.  Her true feelings couldn’t be masked, nor can the incredible groove from this single.

4. “Rain on my Parade” (The Vault Vo. 1):  Anytime I am quizzed on my preference (or lack thereof) for gospel music (which happens often), this is the first song that pops into my head.  The 1970-like, melodic pace and deliberate lyrics will simply curl your soul.  The beach front feeling has a bridge that will have you searching for a sea of escapism.  If you ever get the chance to see Eric in concert and he does not perform this song, you need to ask for a refund.      

5. “Too Soon” (Left March 2007): Eric’s early production days are magnified on this analog-sounding masterpiece. “Too Soon” is the textbook definition of open communication.  I don’t know many people that will be THIS forthright, this early in their relationship, but it certainly worked well for the headphones.

6. “Picture Perfect” (Miser Nice Guy November, 2011):  A woman’s heart will melt at the poetic portrayal from this heavenly description.  Oddly, one of the most prolific and vastly underrated emcees, Phonte Coleman (Little Brother) wasn’t necessary on this single.  And you probably won’t live long enough to ever hear me say that about Phonte again. 

7. “Dealing” feat. Lalah Hathaway (Music Fan First August 2009):  One of the fair criticisms that I've heard detractors say about Eric Roberson is that they aren’t a fan of his voice. While I vehemently disagree, I do understand that music can be a lot like food and every taste bud differs. Well, Eric more than addressed that when he tapped the heavenly Lalah Hathaway for this one.  It’s unimanageable to love R&B music and not add this single to the rotation.., but hey, there are black people that love Chinese food & hate Jamaican food.      

8. "I'm Not Trying To Keep Score No More" (The Box July 2014): In addition to E-Ro’s implausible songwriting ability, one cannot underscore the videos that underline his dry-witted sense of humor.  I think this playful ingredient is the spice to most successful relationships and this video will underscore that fact.  

9. “God In You” (Wind 2017):  It’s impossible to miss the overt appeal of this rather simple selection.  I will say this…, you can spend your entire life searching for someone to sleep with, but real joy begins when you find the person you cannot sleep without.

10. “Summertime Anthem” feat. Chubb Rock (Mister Nice Guy November 2011): There is something electrifying about the summertime in urban cities.  The schools are out, as are the shoulders and hips of the (mostly) female teachers building the minds that shape our future.  The vacations are plentiful and the weekends seem more meaningful.  Eric Roberson has dedicated his life to harvesting the relationships between men and women and nowhere is this more evident than on this Will Smith remix & the Spike Lee iconic summertime movie classic, Do The Right Thing. 

In less than 72 hours the election scoreboard will sadly reveal the “winner” of one of the most quarrelsome, combative and hopeless political races any generation has ever seen.  And for the first time in my life, I will probably go to bed early, because the only thing I’ve learned over the years is…, "when the elephants and donkeys fight, it’s always the grass that suffers." 

If we are ever going to change the trajectory of life in the black community (specifically) and mankind (generally)…, we are going to have to find the perfect partner, wrap that person tightly in our arms and find a better party to attend. 

1❤

Ray Lewis

SOUL SESSIONS Vol. 10

BEHIND THE MUSIC

For centuries black newborns have  made up roughly 15.7% of all births in the U.S.  It is astonishing how a joyous delivery can be fueled with such merciful mourning.  The ugly truth is, its nearly impossible to separate the birth day bliss of a black child, without weeping at the historical horror that awaits them.  There is a deep subconscious feeling that cutting a black child’s umbilical cord is simultaneously igniting a fuse tied to an explosive.  Naturally the newborn isn’t aware of when, why or how this explosive got attached to their innocent, infant frame.  But, like clockwork, one day the child will be [acutely] aware that it’s there.  And the only thing worse than not knowing how a bomb got there, is not knowing when it will detonate.  The only constant with black American babies is: “the talk” that every black household should have about walking gingerly through the U.S. streets.  After all, you’ll never know what will provoke the deranged assembler. 

On June 5, 1993, in Grand Rapids, Michigan, a beautiful, chocolate baby girl named Breonna Taylor entered the world.  And just like that, a mere 312 months later, Breonna’s bomb exploded and the 26-year-old young lady was dead.  Her only crime was being born black in America.  

Breonna didn’t stand a chance because, from birth, her scripted fate was sealed.  Like so many others that resemble Breonna, this “random bomb” will eventually explode, and like clockwork the black survivors will take to the streets to protest the injustice. 

Yeah, we will march up & down the bloody streets, dancing around the blue uniforms that triggered the protest.  On some special occasions, we may even burn some sh_t down.  The hope is that one day this 450-year-old exercise will change the hearts and the minds of the society that rewards the bomb’s designer.  

Breonna Taylor wasn’t unlike any other 26-year-old. She often shared her stream of consciousness on the millennial digest, Facebook. One of the many posts from the budding EMT worker was describing her love for helping others.

“Working in health care is so rewarding! It makes me so happy when I know I’ve made a difference in someone else’s life!”

-- Breonna Taylor

Had Breonna lived a bit longer, her youthful optimism would have been "greeted" by four centuries of systematic hate.  In fact, these tsunami of troubles are often pacified with a dangling carrot of illusive justice.  For example there is some delusional reason this historically disfranchised black community is pinning their (new) hopes on a 77-year-old pale, white Joe Biden..., and a half-black, Kamala Devi (feel free to add the missing L) Harris, as the ticket to salvation.  You can almost feel Breonna – who only lived long enough to vote in 2 primary elections—tumbling in her soiled soil. 

Like a season full of hurricanes, we are running out of names to describe this reign of terror that is devastating the black community: slavery, Jim Crow, redlining, discrimination, xenophobia, racial profiling, willful neglect, inequality, or just good 'ole fashioned hatred.   No matter how you slice this sea of sorrow, the only real way to achieve true salvation, will be to change the way you fight the powers that be.

Well, two decades before Breonna’s umbilical cord was cut, there was a 19-year-old budding artist that was two thousand miles west of Grand Rapids; fiddling with the cords of a new single called “So Blue”.  Growing frustrated with the artist’s “secret session,” a label executive summoned two oddball gophers to expedite the delivery of the long-waited recording.  Lenny Waronker and Russ Thyret packed their bags and headed west to finally hear the brilliant song.  Captivated by the song, the "enforcers" wanted the artist to add a bass line to the single.  The artist snapped back..., “There is no f-ing bass line, now get the F@!# out of my studio!”  It should be noted the record label that paid for Lenny and Russ to check on the artist’s progress, was also paying for the (now) not-so-sercet studio session. 

On April 7, 1978, “So Blue” became the 8th single on a 9-song debut LP.  The freshman album was called For You, on Warner Bros. Records, by a 20-year-old named, Prince Rogers Nelson.

Despite not being of legal voting age, Prince fully understood the sinister history of the music business that he just started a brawl with.  Prince also knew that in order to define his success, he would have to fight very differently — no matter how mighty the opposition.  

There is a statue waiting to be sculpted for a man like Prince; who fought to his death to change the way black newborns navigated through life in AmeriKKKa.  There is absolutely no way to sum up Prince’s contribution to how much Black Lives actually Matter-ed to him.   In fact, most of his contributions were behind his music.  There are people right now in Oakland (as we speak), that are living under solar-paneled roofs that Prince quietly paid for.  Ready for more of Prince's Purple Heart? 

After getting diagnosed with cancer, the legendary JB’s drummer, Clyde Stubblefield racked up $90,000 worth of hospital bills.  Prince somehow found out about Clyde's illness, called the hospital room that Clyde was in, and sent his wife a check for $80,000.  The Stubblefield family didn’t even know that Prince was aware of the hospital stay. And when Lauryn Hill went to jail Prince wrote a check 

to take care of all her kids until Hill was released.  Initially, no one knew that Prince was the financial backer for #YesWeCode, an organization that educates urban youth about technology.  Oh, and by the way, Prince was also iTunes, before the rotten Apple platform.  In the midst of a 3-decade battle with Warner Bros., Prince was fighting for his independence..., punching in patterns the industry couldn’t fathom.  

One of his brilliant moves was when he asked Warner Bros. to send him the names and email addresses of all his fans that corresponded the “old fashioned”way.  Warner Bros. considered the minor concession a major win.  What they didn’t anticipate was The Artist Formerly Known as Prince NEVER performing any of the songs that the label kept the rights to.   Prince used the database to send sample files of his new music and upcoming concert dates directly to the consumer.  Prince essentially used the Warner Bros. information to circumvent the enslaved structure that artists have been fighting against before Prince was born and long before Breonna’s death.  

So…, if you ever want Black Lives to really Matter…, we need to cut this noose that is masked as an umbilical cord and pay attention to the Sign of the Times.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q9LGjn-bovI&t=236s

1 ❤

Ray Lewis

SOUL SESSIONS Vol. 9

THE ELEMENTS OF SALVATION

Each month it gets tougher to find the mental strength to suggest an LP that every black household should have when…, every month, another black household shrinks at the murderous hands of the local police. All American black families are forced to have this generational “chat” about..., what to do when pulled over on the very roads their ancestors paved.  

Fathers Know Best

These oxymoronic, eulogy rehearsals are supposed to somehow teach innocent kids how to behave when, in the inevitable event, they are confronted by a hate-filled, guilt-driven, public servant that their parents are paying to protect them.  It’s almost like we are unwittingly scripting our children’s trauma.  

The essence of these talks would be the equivalent to ironing your child’s clothing, then sending them into an institution, wearing the very clothing that you know the child molesting leader wanted to see them in. This country's stained black & blue fabric is tearing the community to shreds, and it has got to stop.  However, in order for it to stop, you first have understood how it got started.  

The United States' policing began in the early 1600’s as an informal communal night watchman-like crew.  Translation: a bunch of dumb, drunk-ass white males agreeing to do some communal “duties” (mainly) to avoid military services.  This informal mob of misfits, masked as community servants, continued these so-called "duties" for over 100 years, or just after the American Revolution. 

Trump's School of Policing

Now, fast-forward to the early 1800’s, when the U.S. started a more formalized department of “crime fighters” in a few major cities like: Boston, New York and Chicago.  Naturally, in the good o'le southern states, the American policing had a much clearer and sinister agenda.  Their mission was to capture slaves and return them to the slave owners’s plantations. Their (cough-cough) "post slavery" mission morphed into controlling the so-called freed slaves, who had the audacity to seek equality in the (now) Jim Crow labored south. 

So here we are in 2020…. we are getting dressed every Sunday morning, inhaling the beliefs of the oppressor’s “gospel,” praying that one day the molesting leadership will stop raping our kids.  And if they don’t, we are going to (get this) call the police on them.  This insanely sad cycle feels like a spoiler alert from an upcoming Tyler Perry plot.  

Yet, through this exhausting American navigation, we got a jolt of joy from the Civil Rights Act of 1964. This pacifying gesture from the government did give American minorities a (bent) olive branch of hope.  Yeah, you’re welcome, Becky.  For most black people the Civil Rights Act was considered a major win..., that is unless you are one of those minorities that continue to ask: “Why would any human, viewed as an equal, ever need civil rights?"  Nevertheless, the 60’s was one of the more pivotal points in Black American History, because it ushered in an inspirational alternative to the traditional salvation that black people were seeking on earth.  

The 60’s actually ignited a spirit of love and an unspeakable energy of optimism.  Indeed, this act of civility blew a welcomed breath of fresh air into a completely exacerbated community.  The 60’s ignited a fire in the foundation of this treasured black culture.  And, you don’t have to be my big brother to see where this is going.  Man, I know people are struggling, trying to find the right words to inspire the next generation.  I understand that it's really tough trying to adapt to this new normal.  I know you are saddened by the startling deaths of Chadwick Boseman, and unfortunate passing of hoop citizens, John Thompson and Cliff Robinson.  

And if you stop to mix-in a deadly pandemic, with an orange-haired, red state-loving, blue-eyed devil, sitting in an off-White House, suggesting that a masked country drown their illness in bleach... you just cannot help but wonder -- when will the credits roll on this 2020 horror movie?  However, if you are reading this blog, that means you are still here.  And while I don't ever give advice, if I were to do so, I'd say.... let's flip the script and for once, let's do God a favor. 

Simply find a cozy corner in your sanctuary, plug in your absolute best listening device and pull out one of the world's greatest musical treasures.  Please put your headphones together for the magnificent, majestic, masterminds of melody:       

Earth Wind & Fire. 

I wanted to pause here and thank The Creator..., we really needed these elements for our salvation.  

It’s nearly impossible to love music and not have a very large corner of your soul dedicated to the contributions of this illustrious collection of musicians.  It is difficult to summarize the impact that Earth Wind & Fire has had on this world's harmony.  While the group’s founder and lead singer, Maurice White began his career as a jazz drummer in 1969, the band's well-traveled footprint demonstrates a much deeper and richer history.  

White was born December 19th, under the fire sign of Sagittarius. His astrological sign was the founding element to naming the group. That brilliant branding moniker was magically matched by tagging the vocal genius of Philip James Bailey.  The duo & brilliant band will probably never be duplicated in this lifetime. I wish we had enough lifetimes to list EWF’s stellar accomplishments which spans 5 decades & counting. Instead, I will attempt to summarize

their enormous existence. 

Earth Wind & Fire’s music was a comprehensive, collaborative combination of a variety of their world views.  It was Maurice White's spiritual metamorphosis that was the inspiration to most of the band’s album covers — a fact your typical Christian, steppin’ to September, probably wasn’t aware of.  In fact, most of the Egyptian symbols on EWF’s LP covers were that of the modern African Kemtic religion that White devoted his life to. The band credits their lyrical inspirations and, most certainly, their iconic artwork concepts to the Chakra, which is an ancient Hindu meditation practice.  One day someone will write a book on those picturesque covers.  I wish them luck, as it took me 8 1/2 months to just decide which of their stellar albums to drop in this space.   And after ducking many well-intended bribes and phone calls from the 718.... I reached for the masterpiece:

All ‘n All.

Earth Wind & Fire │ All 'n All │ Columbia Records │ November 1977 

Serpentine Fire
Written by the White brothas; Verdine and Maurice, the LP is set ablaze with this senior citizen-lovin’, wheelchair-hoppin’ anthem. Despite the fun-Lovin’ up-tempo groove, the song has a profoundly deep and very religious meaning that encourages living a positive & healthy lifestyle; one of yoga and prayer.  That said, all hell will break out at the high cotton, B-I-N-G-O night gala if the DJ were crazy enough to pick the needle up before the song break-down.  Young millennials, do me a favor, put your phone down and ask an elder to explain what EWF has meant to their life.  You may find out the role the band played in your arrival.   

Boogie's Wonderland

Fantasy
I remember sitting on the mailbox in the Bronx, impatiently waiting for my sister’s Boo to finish the install of my 3, 10-inch subwoofers in the back of my classic, ’85 cream-colored, Chevrolet Celebrity.  Giggle though you might, no one on the block slept for 16 hours once the installation was completed.  I imagine the only reason no one slapped the ignorance out of me was because the cassette was looping one of the EWF's greatest singles of all time. Besides, how you gonna smack a kid for playing Earth Wind & Fire too loud?    

Pimp My Ride

Credit the White brothas, once again.., as they penned the 'hood-disturbing Fantasy, -- yet another in their long line of deep, timeless hits.  The song was an ode to escapism from a world living in a cesspool of falsehoods. Sound familiar? 

This is one of those songs that will help you to understand the word, genius,and if you are still searching for a way to cope with the insanity that this year has unleashed.  If you just need a jolt, perhaps one of 4 minutes and 38 seconds... and if you want to exchange the madness for a little peace..., dim the lights, light a candle & let this one roll... on repeat... just like I did.     

Love’s Holiday
Did I say that Fantasy was my favorite EWF song?  Please don't take this time to start quoting me. If you young whipper-snappers want to remove the one-night stand from your repertoire, (trust me one day you will)..., just add this to your candlelight playlist.  You will be pleasantly surprised at the rousing reception from your mate.  The chorus at the 3-minute mark is unspeakably brilliant.    

Brazilian Rhyme aka Beijos
The 1am moonlight had just fallen on another park jam in the Forest Park section of the South Bronx.  As the block party ended, you could feel the intensity of the crowd searching for an encore.  Nevertheless, the crowd headed for the exit. Then, in a blink, the legendary, DJ Kool Herc, suprised them and let loose this classic EWF interlude. Heads swiveled, as this insane [mostly] a cappella beat jolted the cracked concrete. 

Hip Hop's Golden Era

Now I know it’s hard to imagine anyone calling a 53 second "intro" a classic.  BUT..., that was (probably) before DJ Herc spun the track for 8 straight minutes..., not missing a beat (so to speak).  

Herc’s wizardry on the 1’s & 2’s made the attendees do a complete180 & re-pack the park from fence-to-fence.  Even the elders had to admit, this EWF sh-t is blazin'... and Kool Herc was absolutely killin' it.   The crowd of people were now dripping with sweat as Herc was soaking up all of this impromptu energy.  I swear if Herc looped that song for an hour, no one would have budged.

. 

Trump's Graduates

However, this night, like so many other block parties in the 80’s, ended with the squad cars from the 43rd Precinct pulling up, and bringing the night to an official end.  

At least this time the police had a legitimate reason for not capturing this life-changing moment on a body cam. 

 

1❤

Ray Lewis

 

SOUL SESSIONS Vol. 8

Seven's Heaven

It’s been slightly over 7,500 days since Y2K’s fabled false alarm.  Midway through 1999 many inside and outside of the tech world felt things would implode once the December 31, clock struck midnight.  The Y2K saga had many shook with myths ranging from computer glitches to world calamities.  Some estimated that the pending global destruction would be somewhere in the [nice] neighborhood of $300-$500 billion.  According to an excerpt in The Guardian, the panic reached epic proportions when a Scottish air traffic controller called an emergency room warning that their radar system failed.  Cooler heads prevailed when it was revealed that all flights in Europe were either cancelled or grounded, all due to the anticipated fear that the midnight millennium bug would cause utter chaos.

The PC panic actually started a few decades earlier, in 1956, when computer programmers attempted to save space by omitting the century “identifier” from most of their software set-up.  In short (insert geek news) the date January 1900 read 01/00 (in PC lingo). The programmer’s “short cut” made perfect sense when every event was scheduled in the same century.  But in 1997, a real life problem arose when a woman named Mary Bandar—who was born in July 1888—received a quizzical invitation from the school board.  The letter suggested that Mary should get ready for her first day of grammar school because her birth date (in PC lingo) read: 07/88…, thus making her 4-years-old in 1992.  Mary was actually 104-years-old or three centuries younger than police brutality—in BLM lingo.  

Spoiler alert: January 1, 2000, came and went without much of a brew ha-ha.  And, aside from the Mets/Yankees Subway Series, the official start of this new digital century was almost as uneventful as baseball itself. 

Things remained pretty humdrum until November 2000 rolled in…, That’s when a 29-year-old analog girl, from Dallas, Texas, plastic-wrapped a vinyl bomb that lit up the digital airwaves.   This record shook-up the music world so much that someone stupidly attempted to change the name of the genre (more on that in a second). 

Erica Abi Wright set the music world ablaze with her sophomore smash Mama’s Gun.  

Erykah Badu I Mama’s Gun I Motown-Puppy Love I November 2000

There are some that argue (…, o.k., I will argue…) that this 72-minute magnum opus is one of the best music pearls in the last 25 years, —perhaps longer.  You won’t get much of a quarrel from (then) Motown music mogul, Kedar Massenburg, who is credited with coining the corny phrase, Neo Soul.  

Kedar Massenburg & India Arie

Massenburg felt that Badu’s “new” vinyl direction needed its own launching pad.  He also felt that people needed a label to attach this refreshing brand of music.  You have my permission to underline the word brand. 

The term Neo Soul was (and still is) much more about marketing than the long-standing vibe that has been cemented in culture for centuries.  Nevertheless, history and a few pinned-striped suits will (probably) decide just how long or effective the term will be ignored.

Inside the famed Electric Lady Studio

In 1999, through the early 2000’s, Electric Lady Studios, which is located in Greenwich Village, N.Y., was the storage hub of this bubbling soul music ingredient.  The mythical music studio was the 3-year Incubator that housed the Bag Lady’s majestic masterpiece.  

Oddly enough, there were very loud whispers that, despite the enormous imprint of Mama's Gun, the LP wasn’t even the best dish cooked at the Electric Lady Studios.  As fate would have it, while Badu was rotating your favorite emcee(s); her soon-to-be-Boo, Common was penning one of Hip Hop's strokes of genius, Like Water For Chocolate. The 3-year studio sleepover also included D’Angelo’s sophomore pearl, Voodoo which dropped earlier in the year.  And, not to be undone, the Pre-Fallon Root’s crew completed the cypher, unleashing Things Fall Apart -- all under the same roof at the same time. 

All of the Electric Lady competition didn’t eclipse Maria Mexico from becoming the face of the Neo Soul movement – even though she had plenty of artists worthy of her window seat.  The likes of: Jill Scott, Donnie, India Arie, Ledisi, Jon B., Maxwell, Somi, Jaguar Wright, Le Nubian, Beady Belle, Musiq Soulchild, Angie Stone, Meshell Ndegeocello, Lauryn Hill and Floetry were all smoking the streets as well.  Editor’s note: most of them hated the term Neo Soul – luckily for Kedar the check cleared long before that assessment became commonplace. 

No one detested the term more than Downtown Loretta Brown.  Badu often stated “there is nothing new about soul music.”  She continued: “that term is mainly embraced by lazy thinkers.”  You have my permission to hit subscribe with the "A-Men" button.  The fact of the matter is…, there are thousands of soul singers that built this platform that every black household should have. However, if you are new to this soul mixer, welcome abaard..., Mama’s Gun is the perfect taster.  And, right from the start the head wrapped musical, midwife feeds this starving new Amerykah:

“Penitentiary Philosophy”

Ahmir “QuestLove” Thompson pokes his funky drummer fingertips on the LP’s 6- minute live band opener.  Lyrically the single fits nicely but, the The Bar-Kays-like rhythm was probably best suited for Badu’s follow-up, Worldwide Underground.

“Didn't Cha Know?”

Like great cinema the plot just got thicker.  Didn’t Cha Know had many artists checking the exits, pondering..., would it make more sense to let the dust settle before dropping a project (now) when Mama's Gun still had the street corners smoking?  This bongo-rockin’, drop-your-draws-in-your-jeep vibe is nothing short of breath-taking. It almost seemed criminal that Badu handpicked the prolific producer, J. Dilla to run the point on this one.  And Dilla didn't disappoint—he rarely did.  Jay Dee turned up the soul temperature on this classic.  In fact it was so high that Dilla nearly burned down his freedom. The 4-minute flame was an unauthorized sample of Tarika Blue’s Dreamflower, who naturally sued.  So..., while the two Soulquarian were getting the Mama’s Gun party laoded, the legal party settled out of court.

Erykah Badu & Andre 3k

“My Life”

Badu and Dilla linked right back up, this time they sprinkled-in multi-instrumentalist, James Poyser to compliment this retro 90’s Hip Hop & soul dish. Dilla, apparently learned a valuable legal lesson, as he got his “licensed to ill”—sampling, the Beastie Boys’ joint, Paul Revere.  My Life later became a remix with Common—whom apparently sprung out of the friend zone.  You have my permission to underline sprung.

“Cleva”

The head-nodding party took a very jazzy turn when…, you guessed it…, Team Dilla, Badu, and Poyser summoned the majestic Roy Ayers.   Much of Badu’s work has been neatly wrapped in RAMP’s jazzy blueprinted soul.  RAMP (which is an acronym for “Roy Ayers Music Productions”) was formed by Roy Ayers in 1976 – further underscoring how old Neo Soul is.

“Orange Moon”

This song plays like a movie score.  The Heavenly track is a beautiful ode to Seven, Erykah's first born, with Atlanta’s rapper’s delight, Andre 3000. The metaphors are too numerous to unpack, but the most obvious is Badu, who plays the Moon while her son Seven plays the Sun.  It’s one of the most remarkable singles in Erykah’s catalog. 

Badu & reggae star, Stephen Marley

“In Love With You” feat. Stephen Marley

You may want to tighten the headboard for this one.  The hypnotic, Himalayan-built Badu, curls-up with one of Jamaica’s most noted sperm spreading families and unleashed the dopest duet in both culture’s recent memory.  Stephen’s effortless see-sawing footsie with Badu makes you feel like Andre MUST have been out of town.  This rock-skipping single sways like you are in a satin hammock.  You won’t need the liner notes for this one.  Nah…, this magical 5-minute guitar ride is hugged by a simple melody & an effervescent hook – (only) pausing long enough for you to wonder how long it took them to untangle their hair.  

The organic, analog beat is so spellbinding, you will all but forget when this Soul Session started, the world was about to end & the “new” soul was just getting started.   

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Ray Lewis