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Posts tagged as ““Lift Every Voice And Sing””

“Lift Every Voice And Sing”: James Weldon Johnson and John Rosamond Johnson’s Anthem to Freedom (LISTEN)

by Lori Lakin Hutcherson (@lakinhutcherson)

James Weldon Johnson,  an NAACP field secretary, civil rights activist, Broadway composer and professor who investigated and spoke out about lynchings in the first decades of the 20th century, also wrote the classic novel The Autobiography of an Ex-Colored Man, first published in 1912.

But perhaps the publication Weldon is best known for was that of a song he wrote with his brother John Rosamond Johnson. In 1900, in honor of Tuskegee Institute founder Booker T. Washington as part of a tribute to Abraham Lincoln‘s birthday, they crafted a poem that was read by 500 schoolchildren entitled “Lift Every Voice and Sing.”

The poem celebrated freedom as it recognized a brutal past never to be repeated. “Lift Every Voice and Sing” was so well received that the brothers set it to music and by 1919 the NAACP dubbed it “the Negro national anthem.” It has functioned in that capacity ever since.

The Johnson brothers pictured on the cover of this 1973 version of the sheet music

Sung for decades at countless meetings, events, and ceremonies, a 1990 version of the song performed by Melba Moore (which can be heard here on GBN’s “Black Americana” playlist ) was entered into the Congressional Record and, in 2016, into the National Recording Registry.

Singing this song today makes as much sense as any other American anthem, as it is a song of independence from tyranny, inhumanity and injustice. It is sung in honor of Americans who died building this country by progeny who seek to embrace the liberty, hope and prosperity freedom promises.

Enjoy Aretha Franklin, whose voice literally was designated an American natural resource, singing the song we might all lift our voices to sing. Full lyrics published below.

“Black Americana”: Traditional and Modern Takes on Patriotic Songs by African American Artists (LISTEN)

[Photos: Jimi Hendrix at Woodstock; Marian Anderson at Lincoln Memorial; Whitney Houston at Super Bowl XXV]

by Lori Lakin Hutcherson (@lakinhutcherson)

Yesterday was a good day. As Joe Biden and Kamala Harris became President-Elect and Vice President-Elect of the United States of America, in several cities across the nation literal dancing broke out in the streets. So many people from all stripes of life — Black, Brown, white, Asian, Indigenous — were together exhibiting their joy at the victory.

The massive turnout — in the middle of a surging pandemic, no less — to celebrate the repudiation of the path towards division and exclusion in favor of the path towards inclusivity and diversity was the most patriotic thing I’ve witnessed on a national level in a long time. And so many were carrying and waving American flags.

It’s being acknowledged in the media – as well as in President Elect Biden’s speech – how vital the African American community was in saving this nation’s democracy.  The visuals and the fireworks brought home for me just how much at heart Black people are patriots.

Even though from jump we have been treated unjustly, cruelly, unfairly — we have worked tirelessly to fight for the ideals America is supposed to stand for. Justice. Freedom. Equality. Perhaps we believe in democracy the most because we have always been the most vulnerable when it doesn’t exist.

Hearing Vice President-Elect Harris strut out to Mary J. Blige‘s “Work That” and President Elect Biden sprint out to Bruce Springsteen‘s “We Take Care of Our Own” before their respective speeches, then enjoy the crowd and fireworks to some Jackie Wilson, Coldplay, Hall & Oates and Tina Turner, made me think about some of my favorite takes on patriotic American songs by African American artists that could have been cool to play as well. (My most recent favorite from the past few years? Jon Batiste‘s inventive, unexpectedly moving version of “The Battle Hymn of the Republic.”)

When my sister Lesa texted me a song she’d been listening to all day — “This Land Is Our Land” by Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings — my thoughts turned to action and I started making the playlist below I call “Black Americana” for inspiration now and in the months to come:

[spotifyplaybutton play=”spotify:playlist:5X7NWDviuh5ITT9e22wD2a”/]

Review: Beyoncé is Bigger Than Coachella | New York Times

(photo via instagram.com)

by Jon Caramanica via nytimes.com

INDIO, Calif. — Let’s just cut to the chase: There’s not likely to be a more meaningful, absorbing, forceful and radical performance by an American musician this year, or any year soon, than Beyoncé’s headlining set at the Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival Saturday night.

It was rich with history, potently political and visually grand. By turns uproarious, rowdy, and lush. A gobsmacking marvel of choreography and musical direction.

And not unimportantly, it obliterated the ideology of the relaxed festival, the idea that musicians exist to perform in service of a greater vibe. That is one of the more tragic side effects of the spread of festival culture over the last two decades. Beyoncé was having none of it. The Coachella main stage, on the grounds of the Empire Polo Club here, was her platform, yes, but her show was in countless ways a rebuke.

It started with the horns: trumpets, trombones, sousaphones. For most of the night, the 36-year-old star was backed by an ecstatic marching band, in the manner of historically black college football halftime shows. The choice instantly reoriented her music, sidelining its connections to pop and framing it squarely in a lineage of Southern black musical traditions from New Orleans second line marches to Houston’s chopped-and-screwed hip-hop.

Her arrangements were alive with shifts between styles and oodles of small details, quick musical quotations of songs (Pastor Troy’s “No Mo’ Play in G.A.,” anyone?) that favored alertness and engagement. As always, one of the key thrills of a Beyoncé performance is her willingness to dismantle and rearrange her most familiar hits. “Drunk in Love” began as bass-thick molasses, then erupted into trumpet confetti. “Bow Down” reverberated with nervy techno. “Formation,” already a rapturous march, was a savage low-end stomp here. And during a brief trip through the Caribbean part of her catalog, she remade “Baby Boy” as startling Jamaican big band jazz.

She does macro, too — she was joined onstage by approximately 100 dancers, singers and musicians, a stunning tableau that included fraternity pledges and drumlines and rows of female violinists in addition to the usual crackerjack backup dancers (which here included bone breakers and also dancers performing elaborate routines with cymbals).

GBN Quote Of The Day

 
“You are young, gifted, and black. We must begin to tell our young, there’s a world waiting for you, yours is the quest that’s just begun.”
— James Weldon Johnson, poet, civil rights activist and co-writer of “Lift Every Voice And Sing” (the Negro National Anthem)