Post Trauma Blues? John Coltrane vs. Lil Wayne

from CRITICAL NOIR @ Vibe.com

A Love Supreme? John Coltrane, Lil Wayne and the Post-Trauma Blues
by Mark Anthony Neal

In his recent essay "Jazz and Male Blackness", scholar and musician Joao H. Costa Vargas describes the jam sessions held at The World Stage, a storefront workshop and performance space held at Leimart Park in South Central Los Angeles. The workshop was founded in the early 1990s by the late legendary jazz drummer Billy Higgins and spoken word poet Kamau Daaood. In the essay Costa Vargas examines the myriad ways that concepts of black masculinity are rendered, maintained, protected and re-imagined, all in the context of the artistic culture that the workshop facilitates. If there is a model of black masculine aesthetics that is more often than not recalled at the World Stage, it is that of John Coltrane. According to Costa Vargas, "Many of the Stage's musicians attempt to evoke the mood produced by John Coltrane's later performances...Fundamentally, most musicians try to perform Coltrane's spiritual intensity and musical seriousness through their personal renditions of tunes."

That John Coltrane would serve as a centerpiece at the World Stage and like-minded artistic collectives is not surprising, as Coltrane has been lionized by Black Arts communities as few others have been. Recalling Gil Scott Heron's "Lady Day and John Coltrane" ("until our hero rides in, rides in, on his saxophone") or Chuck D's assertion that critics treat him like "Coltrane/insane" the saxophonist has, in some sectors, been elevated to superhero status alongside male contemporaries like El Hajj Malik El Shabazz (Malcolm X) and Huey Newton.

Yet the high regard that Coltrane is held is somewhat ironic, given that few, except die-hard fans, know much about the saxophonist's personal life. Whereas figures like Malcolm X, Huey Newton and even jazz peers like Miles Davis, Louis Armstrong and Duke Ellington were highly visible and celebrities in their own right, Coltrane's existed on a much lower public register. Coltrane's transcendent stature instead has much to do with many of the iconic photographs taken of him in later years (Coltrane was only 40 when he died in 1967), where his image became a literal metaphor for artistic and spiritual integrity. And then of course there was the music, especially signature mid-1960s recordings like "Alabama" and A Love Supreme in which Coltrane seemed to draw directly from the traumatic realities of Black America.

Read the Full Essay @

Dreams of Obama in Ghana

special to NewBlackMan

Racializing Obama while Creating Diaspora in Ghana
by Lee D. Baker

A warm humid breeze blew as the burnt orange sun set quickly in the tony neighborhood of East Legon, one of the ever-expanding “suburbs” of Ghana’s capital city of Accra. In this neighborhood, multi-million-dollar mansions belonging to radio executives and professional soccer players tower over street-corner abodes refashioned out of steel cargo ship containers that do double-duty as shops in the morning and sleeping quarters in the evening. This evening, I was dining alone at a busy open-air café. Next to me was a group of lovely, loquacious ladies whose audible volume increased as the liquid volume in their carafes decreased. It was obviously girls’ night out and these middle-aged, middle-class women were paying me no mind as I ate my grilled Tilapia and banku. Suddenly, out of nowhere, I heard a gunshot. Most in the restaurant whooped and some patrons let out half-hearted “screams,” but no one looked too concerned. I ducked under the table.

Within seconds, the skies opened up and tropical, torrential rain bucketed from the now black sky. The forceful rain created random columns of water that pierced through the otherwise sturdy thatched roof. No one was concerned. Waitresses deftly donned plastic bags over their hair, and customers quickly arranged tables and chairs in an odd but orderly pattern that enabled everyone to keep eating without getting soaked. Elbows touched, strangers’ hips were flush, and sticky backs pressed up against each other.

In Ghana, personal space is a luxury that is willingly sacrificed to accommodate more people, and surrendering it is de rigueur when it comes to taking public transportation; everyday millions of Ghanaians cram as many people as physically possible into vans that have been refashioned from European delivery trucks. They call the vans tro-tros; I call them crowded.

Just as I was getting a little uncomfortable trying to eat without elbowing my neighbor, a catchy one-drop reggae tune came bounding over the speakers. Just as the hook let loose, people started bobbing their heads, moving their shoulders, humming, and looking at me. I was stunned when the backup vocals pulsated the words: Barack, Barack, Obama, Barack, Barack, Obama. I just grinned with utter approval. At once, I became very comfortable as I enjoyed the music, the warmth, and the rain. Halfway through the song, the power went out. It was pitch dark and still pouring. Immediately, people took out cell phones and the entire restaurant was aglow with the liquid crystal diodes of a dozen or so cell phones that looked like fireflies dancing and darting around.

Despite getting clipped by a power outage, that experience was one of those rare and tender moments when people from different parts of the diaspora reach out, embrace, and bond with their brothers and sisters in cultural and political solidarity. In Ghana, these moments are very, very rare; despite the fact that thousands of African American tourists visit Ghana every year to ostensibly “go home,” connect, bond, and inhabit mother Africa.

I often like to say that Ghana is the only place in the world where I can be a rich white man, but that is changing as the dollar tanks, Ghana’s economy improves, and the light-skinned Barack Obama becomes the international standard bearer for the African in African American. In general, most Ghanaians have a fairly narrow understanding of modern blackness. If you are not from Nigeria, Liberia, Mali or another sub-Saharan African country, you are simply Obruni, or translated: a white person.

Many of the students that I bring to Ghana come to explicitly find their African roots, and instead they find the impacts of colonialism and structural adjustment. As one can imagine, these students are horrified when a market person affectionately hails one of them: “white man, please come.”

Ghanaian perceptions of diasporic blacks have been slowly changing in the wake of closer economic ties to Caribbean countries, globalization, mass media, and the international appeal of hip-hop. In recent months, however, the processes have quickened their pace, thanks in large part to Barack Obama’s presidential campaign and his self-appointed and definitely unofficial director of field operations in Ghana: Blakk Rasta. He is the man who wrote and performed both the dancehall and crunk version of this seriously funky tune: Barack Obama. Besides being one of Ghana’s most widely recognized and acclaimed reggae musicians, Blakk Rasta hosts a widely popular, albeit controversial, talk-radio show where he holds sway on many topics– first and foremost of late- Barack Obama.

Between the single, the video, and his radio show, Blakk Rasta has done more than anyone to raise the awareness of Barack Obama’s candidacy in Ghana, and by extension, a broader understanding of blackness, the diaspora, and “One Love for One Africa.” Although it’s a far cry from Kwame Nkrumah’s call for pan-African liberation, Blakk Rasta articulates a sincere call for a unified diaspora that loves and respects each other.

The son of devout Muslims, he was born Abubakar Ahmed in 1974 in the northern city of Tamale. Growing up poor in Moshie-Zongo, he was a high achieving student who excelled in the arts and sciences. As he completed his bachelor’s degree in land economy from Kwame Nkrumah University, he turned to the reggae scene, embraced Rastafari, and pursued writing, producing, and performing music with a decidedly political edge, which also frames his unique approach to talk radio.

Equal parts preacher, teacher, and pundit, his show often consists of playing music, turning the volume down, pontificating for awhile, and turning the music back up, only to randomly turn it back down to take a call or two, and then turning the music back up, then he turns it back down to inform the public about some important upcoming event or plug a product, then he turns up the music one more time. His show is quite entertaining, but he does push everyone’s buttons when he speaks “the truth,” which of course is the truth according to Blakk Rasta. Although I find his views on women unacceptable, everyone finds something to like and dislike in his philosophy. And, I have to assume, that is the point: to push and pull, educate and liberate. Like any good teacher, he wants you to question your assumptions. Even among his loyal fans, no one agrees with everything he says, but even his staunchest critics learn something new. Employing his well-rehearsed locally-acquired foreign accent, his Jamaican patois is fast, his mind is nimble, and his perspectives range from really out there to spot on.

I had the privilege of interviewing Blakk Rasta after one of his radio shows. In the lobby of Joy FM, in the heart of Accra’s computer and information district, I sat down for a free-ranging and very enlightening conversation. The pretext, of course, was how Obama was racialized in Africa, but the conversations covered issues of strong women, the family, race, racism, the African diaspora, black on black violence, colonialism, and the exploitation of house help in Ghana. He is very, very smart. Although he had his phone on vibrate, I could tell it was ringing non-stop. As we continued our conversation, a bevy of young men respectfully formed around us. Some were trying to ply him with their own reggae tunes, others were adoring fans, while another was a radio personality from Toronto, Canada who was there to compare notes about the international reggae scene.

I asked him how he approached his popular radio show:

Blakk Rasta: There are some who go on the radio and just play reggae music and shout ‘Jah, Jah, Rastafari’ and go away-- that is not right. My conscience would not set me free when my brothers are fighting in Sudan. . . If I were to come on the radio and be a preacher, no one would listen to me, but through reggae music I play it, entertain them, and weave these things in and it is catching on with the people. It has never happened in this country. That is why I get death threats, a whole lot of death threats. Lee, I don’t really mind if my life is taken away and Africa unites- that is fine. If I am supposed to be a sacrificial lamb for the unity of Africa, so be it. I would smile wherever I am. If taking me away makes Africa worse, I will not go and will work in my own small way to unite Africa. People are saying I am getting political, but I don’t vote and I am not political. If party A does something wrong, I let them know it’s wrong, but the way I teach, people don’t like it because it is very militant and very raw. I speak the truth and do not believe in euphemisms. If the man is dead, he is dead; he hasn’t kicked any bucket. . .

The message is going on and on, and now I have a whole lot of sponsors on my show and people are saying that this guy is the modern-day Marcus Garvey. These accolades are just too big for me, but it makes me appreciate the fact that the people are in for the truth. I try to tell people that I am just an insignificant person occupying a small space, but the message is going out loud and clear. Maybe that is why I was brought here, because all of my schoolmates are sitting in air conditioned offices taking money from the government. That is not my thing; my thing is to talk my people.

Trying to hone in on how Barack Obama is racialized in West Africa, I asked Blakk Rasta how people perceived their lighter-skinned African Brother:

BR: We consider him African, but he is black because the whole world considers him black. So, we consider him black, but also African. So many people didn’t even know who Barack was, until I came up with that song, Barack Obama, and people started realizing, oh, who is this? And even still, people just like the music and don’t know exactly what the music is talking about. Some people see a picture of Obama, and say to me that he is not even black, and I have to tell them that he is a black man like you and me.

On this one point, Blakk Rasta has stayed remarkably on message, and he has hammered that point home, in the video, on the single, throughout his radio broadcast, and at just about any opportunity he gets. Although the song itself belies the message will.i.am advanced in his viral internet smash hit “Yes, We Can,” you sure can dance to it! Blakk Rasta takes a decidedly more macabre perspective with his wicked rhymes: Too long they disrespect blacks and Africans combine. And black people flesh and blood the Ku Klux Klan love to dine. Watch out Barack Obama and intensify your power turbine. Or else brethren Obama, your dark days will never sublime.

Although it is difficult to ferret out the cause from the effect, the way Blakk Rasta has racialized Barack here in Ghana has had a meaningful impact on the way many Ghanaians perceive blackness and their connection to the diaspora. Or, it just could have felt that way as I looked around me in the din of a torrential down pour. Either way, it was still a meaningful moment.

***

Lee D. Baker is Dean of Academic Affairs, Trinity College of Arts and Sciences, Duke University.

A Dark Knight for Dark Days

special to NewBlackMan

Dark Knight’ : A Movie for the Times
By Stephane Dunn

I exercise my deepest hero longings by escaping into the fantasy ones on the big screen. Unsurprisingly then, I am especially drawn to Marvel’s unlimited vault of superheroes whose mission is to save the world or at least their city from hopelessness or the bad guys. So I braved the crowded parking lots and lines and dragged along a reluctant, anti-Batman lover to see Dark Knight. It would be too easy to get sidetracked by the tragic aura surrounding this newest Batman flick. Heath Leger’s tragic death at twenty-six has naturally stirred up more hype than Marvel’s big budget superhero flicks usually already do. Before his death, word was already circulating around Hollywood that Ledger had turned in a stunningly brilliant turn as ‘the Joker’ a role imbued with more of the dark psychotic edge of the original comic strip’s character. The hype about that performance is true so much so that the fact of his death adds pathos amid the bleak, edgy undertones of the character but does not overshadow the fact that Ledger makes the Joker alone stand out. Yet, there’s more to appreciate about Dark Knight beyond, even, the record breaking $166 million plus that it took in at the box office during this first weekend out. The action sequences, character complexity and fine performances all around from Christian Bale (Batman), Michael Caine, Morgan Freeman, Aaron Eckhart (Harvey Dent) and of course Ledger’s movie stealing Joker performance are but a few more reasons why this latest Batman film is a stand out. Sitting at the movie last Saturday night, I alternately cringed, laughed, and became just plain enthralled by the sophisticated treatment of that almost clichéd good vs. evil staple that defines superhero comics and films.

In these scary economic and cultural times and this very historic but volatile political year, the inspiration that the Obama ‘Change’ and unifying ‘yes, we can’ spirit stirred finds an unlikely but perfect parallel in Gotham city’s need for a hero who will stand strong against corruption and evil and prove worthy of the people’s hope. Dark Knight is more than a literal reference to the Batman; the film turns on the shadowy darkness that frames batman, the best scenes, and the creepy Joker, utterly freakish in the distorted white clown paint masking his face. The title also signifies on the dark times as Gotham is overrun by murder, mayhem, fear, and inhumanity-the Joker’s areas of specialization.

In this second film, director and co-screen writer Christopher Nolan, offers a powerful meditation on the responsibility of superhero, political leaders, and somebody else-the people themselves-to stand firm in the good they yearn for and actively participate in challenging evil and corruption. While the film’s good political guy-Harvey Dent-is transformed by the Joker’s evil machinations into the bitter, two faced man at film’s end, one scene dramatically emphasizes two very compelling ideas: no hero can truly bear the weight of fighting for the good and carrying the people’s hope all the time and in the end, the people too must prove worthy of the sacrifices the good guys and the hero make. The Joker’s whole demonic project revolves around corrupting what he firmly believes is that rare courageous goodness, which political newcomer, DA Harvey Dent and of course Batman represent. Two questions hovers over the film, the first even for Batman early on: Is good guy Harvey Dent for real and will he and Batman hold to their integrity and courage under the Joker’s onslaught and the people’s growing fear? The same questions were asked about Obama and continue to be both in numerous political analyses in the media and in private. Not a few folk, and I admit now me too-have pondered these questions while hoping that Obama will indeed prove a hero worthy of the hope and the hype. The film could’ve left it at those questions but instead it dramatizes how we hope-mongers must also embody the hopefulness we want our heroes to live up to. Thus, the people of Gotham are tested as well.

The ever creative Joker gets on a role having turned the good Harvey Dent into a vengeful murderer. Two groups of people-one a boat full of inmates –and another, a crowded boat of Gotham’s citizens must decide to pull the key out of the detonator and doom the other boat in just the few minutes left before midnight. The camera cuts back and forth between the two boats of people arguing over whether to do it or not. The loudmouths among the ‘civilized’ people argue that the others are “thieves and murders” and thus their lives are not as important as Gotham’s ‘good’ citizens. The inmates on their boat are held back only by the guard’s guns. The camera repeatedly closes in on the silent figure of one inmate in particular, a huge, menacing looking bald headed black man (Tommy ‘Tiny’ Lister in usual form) who does what the director knows he’ll do: make us very sure that he’s gonna start throwing folk around and be the one turn the key. Before too long he steps to the puny looking administrative guy and coolly suggests that he give him the detonator so he can do what must be done. He picks up the ticking device. At the same time, on the other boat, an obnoxious middle aged white man, one of the loudmouths, declares that he’ll do what no one has the guts to do: turn that key. Hi picks it up and holds it in his hand as the other passengers stare at him, still afraid that the other folk might still blown them all to, well, hell, in the minute left until midnight. If you’re like Batman, ultimately a believer in folks’ enduring humanity you know what happens. If you’re the Machiavellian Joker, well, your conclusion has a fifty-fifty possibility too.

What does this fantasy movie have to do with a real possible ‘dark knight’ –no pun intended- and a much hyped real life political year? The catch words are eerily similar-positive change, hope, dream-we are like the people of Gotham. We know there’s no Batman but we desperately want a Harvey Dent-an attractive, skilled, courageous, noble, smart, smooth talker who can stare corruption down and make us believe that positive change is possible. The movie ends in about two and half hours but we can take the message out of the theatre. It’s not enough to want heroes or heroic figures cause as much as we are inspired by them, we also must inspire and support them. That’s the only way their noble intentions actually have a chance to stand strong when the nay saying, ‘agents of chaos’ as the Joker calls himself, come up against them.

***

Stephane Dunn is a writer and author of "Baad Bitches & Sassy Supermamas: Black Power Action Films" (August 2008). She is also an assistant professor at Morehouse College.

ATL Reflections

from The Washington Post

The New South's Capital Likes to Contradict Itself

By William Jelani Cobb
Sunday, July 13, 2008; B01

ATLANTA

This past January, Sen. Barack Obama delivered a speech on Martin Luther King Day at Ebenezer Baptist Church here. The symbolism was obvious. Appearing in King's home church just a few weeks after winning the Iowa caucuses, Obama was a visible embodiment of the boldest aspirations of the civil rights movement. When he returned to the Atlanta metro area last week to speak and raise money for his campaign, the moment was less symbolic but possibly even more significant: The first African American with a reasonable chance of becoming president is fighting for the "New South." And he could win it.

It's no coincidence that Obama has visited Atlanta at least three times in the past year. The capital of the New South, Atlanta is a small town trapped inside a big city, a place firmly committed to putting the past behind it and a place where history shows through like paint under primer. To understand how -- and whether -- the Illinois senator's "Southern strategy" might have a chance, take a look at this Bible Belt city where the visibility and political clout of gays rivals that of New York or San Francisco. This is the place where King's vision has been most fully realized. In these early days of the 21st century, Atlanta has become a microcosm of black America.

And we have the contradictions to prove it.

You enter the city via Hartsfield-Jackson, the busiest airport in the country. It's named after two mayors -- one white, one black -- tethered together by a hyphen, a history and a commitment to progress. In fact, if there's any single obsession that binds the city to its past, it's this idea of "progress."

More than a century ago, W.E.B. Du Bois lamented that the passion for progress was ruining Atlanta, replacing charm with ambition and faith with lucre. Atlanta's symbol is the phoenix, and almost since the city's 1847 founding, change has been a constant. (It had three names in the first 20 years of its existence.) In its most recent incarnation, the city has been reborn as "ATL," a locale that is to blacks of this era what Harlem was in the 1920s: the destination for a critical mass of highly educated and talented blacks in search of a better life.

Though I was born and raised in New York, my family history in Georgia dates back to the days of slavery. Frustrated by the lack of educational and employment opportunity for blacks in the state, my father left for Harlem at 17, just before World War II. Six years ago, I moved to Atlanta to take a job as a history professor at Spelman College, a highly regarded historically black college for women.

That's progress: A generation later, Georgia lured me for the precise reasons my father left it.

Read the Full Essay

***

William Jelani Cobb is an associate professor of history at Spelman College and the author of "The Devil & Dave Chappelle and Other Essays."

Book Review:

From the Los Angeles Times

BOOK REVIEW

In Search of the Black Fantastic by Richard Iton

For black entertainers, popular culture has always been political, the author argues.

By Steve Ryfle
Special to The Times

July 10, 2008

When Paul Robeson declared, at the height of Cold War tensions, that black Americans would never fight for a nation that had "oppressed us for generations" in a war against the Soviet Union, the actor and civil rights advocate ignited a firestorm that damaged his career and opened a debate about the role black entertainers should play in politics.

America's list of artists-turned-activists runs the gamut from John Wayne to Hanoi Jane, from Ronald Reagan as conservative standard-bearer to Sean Penn as professional Bush-basher. White celebrities, though, be they right-wing or left-, revered or reviled, aren't forced to consider racial identity when spouting their political views. For African American icons, politics and race are inseparable.

This theme runs through "In Search of the Black Fantastic," a fascinating history and analysis of the nexus of black popular culture and activism from the Jazz Age to the hip-hop era written by Richard Iton, an associate professor of African American studies and political science at Northwestern University. Thanks to Jim Crow laws and other racist policies, African Americans remained locked out of the American political process for decades, and as late as the 1940s and '50s there were just a handful of black members of Congress. Without elected officials to represent it, Iton notes, the black community instead found political leaders in intellectuals, civic
activists, clergy and, often, performing artists.

Not all were as volatile as Robeson, whose militant views on racism led more moderate reformers (including NAACP leaders and other prominent African Americans) to distance themselves and whose support of the Stalin regime made him a Red Scare scapegoat. Unable to work overseas during the 1950s (his passport was revoked by the U.S. government), Robeson spent his later years eking out a living and distanced from the civil rights movement he had
helped pioneer.

Iton dissects how the next generation of African American figures responded to the challenges of the civil rights era, with some risking livelihood to participate in political activities and others taking a more cautious path. Harry Belafonte was a confidant of Martin Luther King Jr. and helped support the Freedom Rides and the march on Washington. Nat King Cole, who was
labeled an "Uncle Tom" by civil rights activist Thurgood Marshall, believed it was "idiotic" that black entertainers should get involved in politics. "I am a singer of songs. I am not a public speaker," Cole said. Sidney Poitier took a middle-ground approach, selecting only film roles that, in his view, portrayed black men with dignity. As racial politics grew more heated, Poitier's nobler-than-thou characters became obsolete and the actor's popularity plummeted.

With the passage of the Civil Rights Act in 1964 and the Voting Rights Act in 1965, the political playing field for African Americans was ostensibly leveled, which raised new questions. Iton wonders, "If politics in the pre-civil rights era was marked by a certain randomness in terms of what sorts of actors -- nationalists or integrationists, elected or protest, creative artists and/or others -- would lead the way . . . what logic, if any, would dictate the arrangement of black politics afterward?"

While African Americans continued to make headway in formal politics, some of the most controversial voices still emanated from the entertainment world. Iton singles out comedian Chris Rock and chronicles how his rise to popularity was largely based on a comic critique of life in low-income black communities, including a scathing attack on welfare dependency. Variations
on this routine led to Rock's gig as a Comedy Central commentator at the 1996 political conventions. Amazingly, Rock insists his work is apolitical. "It's just jokes man," but Iton points out that "one can indeed easily detect a certain consciousness -- an obvious politics -- at work."

The breadth of material Iton examines is both impressive and exhaustive; it seems no African American pop icon who helped shape black political consciousness and influence over the last century is left out. Iton's survey spans disciplines and decades: In comedy, he looks at the vaudeville of Bert Williams, the caricature of Stepin Fetchit and the stand-up of Richard
Pryor, Eddie Murphy, Rock and Dave Chappelle; in music, he ranges from Billie Holiday to Erykah Badu, from Miles Davis to Nas, from James Brown to De La Soul; and he casts equally wide nets over film and television.

Iton's theory is that "political intention adheres to every cultural production." To that end, he zeros in on the political content, explicit or implicit, in the artists' lives and works and weaves what might seem like a collection of random references into a cohesive pop-political narrative.

Yet although he has produced an illuminating work of pop history, Iton's ambitions are far more complex. The author may be a first-rate culture junkie, but he is first and foremost a political theorist, and his greater aim in assembling this timeline is to examine in detail the questions of
class, gender roles and sexuality raised by African American artists and their work. As such, the book frequently veers into extended analysis steeped in the jargon of academia, which may prove challenging and even off-putting to the casual reader and pop culture enthusiast.

But with Barack Obama on the verge of the Democratic presidential nomination, "In Search of the Black Fantastic" is a timely reminder of the significant influence African American artists and entertainers have had on the political front -- not necessarily in enacting laws, but in the symbolic impact of words and actions. "In choosing to say something," Iton writes, "black artists can seek both to influence outcomes and to redefine the terms of debate."

Steve Ryfle is writing a book about Hollywood during the civil rights era.

***

In Search of the Black Fantastic
Politics & Popular Culture in the Post-Civil Rights Era
by Richard Iton
Oxford University Press

The Root Reviews Nas

from The Root

Minus the racial slur, does Nas's latest album live up to the hype?

By Any Other Name
By Stephane Dunn | TheRoot.com

July 15, 2008--Nas' latest album, which is untitled, was still in its formative stages when the controversy erupted over it original title, Nigger, and the album shows the impact of that debate.

But just because the N-word is gone doesn't mean that its baggage disappeared; the tracks on the album, "N.I..G.G. E.R (The Slave and the Master)," "Y'all my Ni**as" and the pointed use of the word 'nigga' throughout the CD proves that point.

Whether the furor over the original title served to heighten the hype over Nas and the new music or not, it definitely sharpened Nas' lyrical fangs. Nas sinks his teeth into the media, this historic political moment, the music industry and the cultural backlash against hip-hop culture. In fact, Nas' new CD perfectly embodies the racial and political ambiguities of the last year in America. The collection features 15 tracks, including several that tap into the inspiration and hope that Barack Obama has stirred in many people—a hope that for black folk is tempered by the difficult realities of race that persist in America.

The cover offers a hint about the tenor of the album with an image of Nas' back superimposed with whip lashes. The image brings to mind the famous 1863 photo of the whip scars etched deep into the flesh of Gordon, a Louisiana runaway. In choosing this inflammatory imagery, Nas suggests that even things that can't be said, can still be real and can be depicted.

The New Yorker's latest "satirical" cover provides an almost too perfect footnote to Nas' visual and vocal meditations on the implications of Obama's potential presidency. On the last track, "BlackPresident," Nas captures the joyful yet cautious hope that many black folk felt about Obama's successful primary run. The song is bolstered by a refrain sampled from "Changes" in which the late Tupac Shakur raps: "Though it seems heaven sent, we ain't ready to see a black president."

Read the Full Review

***

Stephane Dunn is a writer and author of "Baad Bitches & Sassy Supermamas: Black Power Action Films" (August 2008). She is also an assistant professor at Morehouse College.

"Just Be Good to Me": R&B's Forgotten Era

LA Reid and Clarence Avant

from Critical Noir @ Vibe.com

"Just Be Good to Me": R&B's Forgotten Era (Part 1)
By Mark Anthony Neal

As a practice, R&B music--the more formal corporate product of the post-1970s era--has been given short shrift by the critical intelligentsia. The volume of writing on Soul, Jazz, Hip-Hop and the more traditional Rhythm & Blues has easily dwarfed any significant critical forays into contemporary R&B music, save the brilliant work done by scholars and critics such as Sasha Frere-Jones, Daphne Brooks and Jason King on the hybrid musical landscape that R&B's furtive relationship with hip-hop production has wrought. Even the smart work that Oliver Wang is doing on the retro pop-Soul artists like Amy Winehouse, Sharon Jones and Nicole Willis is really a nod to the throwback days of the late 1950s and 1960s.

And if such a gap in critical assessment of R&B exist, nowhere is it more pronounced than in the music produced in the early to mid 1980s--a time when mainstream pop-top-40 radio (after its homophobic and racist retreat from Disco), in concert with MTV's then musical apartheid approach to programming pop music, effectively undermined the social experiment that was pop radio in 1970s. Ironically this was only a few years after many of the major labels had invested heavily in black acts with the hope of crossing those artists over to white mainstream audiences. Enter the recession of the late 1970s and early 1980s and what was left was a musical environment that was as segregated as it was when the "Hot Soul Singles" charts--soon called "Black Singles" charts--were still referred to as the "Race Music" charts.

In this context a generation of artists and producers emerged, with new technologies at their disposal, like the first generation of Roland TR-808 and Linn LM-1 programmable drum machines and very little pressure to make music for the mainstream (read: white folk). For producers like James Mtume, Reggie Lucas, The Calloway Brothers (Reggie and Vincent), and Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis, the period represented a chance to innovate, while reinvigorating the music in the aftermath of too much infusion of corporate cash. It was George Clinton who famously described the music as "rhythm and bullshit" in the late 1970s, as he called out for "One Nation Under a Groove." As many of these young producers cut their first rugs to Parliament Funkadelic they took heed: "Here's our chance to dance our way, out of our constrictions."

While mixed company in post-Civil Rights, multicultural America can all hum Motown, Atlantic-era Stax, Al Green, Aretha Franklin, and The Stylistics, check the silence when names like Midnight Starr ("Curious"; "Slow Jam"), Patrice Rushen ("Forget Me Nots"), The SOS Band ("Take Your Time"; "Weekend Girl"), Frankie Beverly and Maze ("We Are One"; "Before I Let Go"), Stephanie Mills ("Never Knew Love Like This"; "What Cha Gonna do with My Lovin'" ) Atlantic Starr (with Sharon Bryant on lead: "Silver Shadow"; "Send for Me"), The Deele ("Sweet November"; "Two Occasions"), Cheryl Lynn ("Encore"; "Got to Be Real"), Kashif ("Stone Love"; "Are You the Woman?"), Alexander O'Neal ("Fake"; "Criticize"), DeBarge ("Stay with Me"; "I Like It") and Loose Ends ("Slow Down") are rolled out.

There are of course exceptions. A cross-over figure like Chaka Khan managed to straddle the Funk world via her work with Rufus, while her solo career--"I'm Every Woman" era Chaka--pivots with the emergence of contemporary R&B. The same can be said for George Benson, who transitioned from elite jazz guitarist to a major purveyor of pop radio-friendly R&B, largely courtesy of his chart-topping ballad "This Masquerade" (1976) and his foot-tapping live remake of The Drifters' "On Broadway" (1977). As with so much so-called black music from the late 1970s and early 1980s, George Benson's success on both the Pop and R&B charts is often forgotten. Musically, Benson's sound was enhanced by his work with band-leader and producer Quincy Jones, who began the 1970s with string of funk-heavy jazz releases (of which Body Heat is most typical) and began to push for a more pop-ish sound (with a nod to Gamble and Huff, I'd say) with the release of Sounds...And Stuff Like That in 1978. Sounds... featured the vocals of goddaughter Patti Austin, Ashford and Simpson, Chaka Khan, Gwen Guthrie and a then unknown Luther Vandross.

For Jones, 1978 marked his first collaboration with Michael Jackson (on the soundtrack for The Wiz), which of course lead to their future accomplishments with Off the Wall (1979), Thriller (1982) and Bad (1987). Of the three albums Jones produced with Jackson, Off the Wall was likely the most influential in the R&B world (see Rod Temperton's song writing for the connection), as young R&B producers drew from the examples of Jones, Gamble and Huff, the aforementioned Clinton, Bernard Edwards and Nile Rodgers (Chic) and the adult Stevie Wonder to create sounds pitched for the post-Bakke, B-Movie era (with a nod to Gil Scott-Heron).

Read Part 2

Miss Venezuela : Dayana Mendoza Crowned Miss Universe 2008

Miss Venezuela : Dayana Mendoza Crowned Miss Universe 2008

Miss Venezuela Dayana Mendoza, has been crowned Miss Universe 2008.

She defeated 80 beauties from different countries to clinch the prestigious Miss Universe crown for 2008.

The pageant with 80 contenders vying for the title was held in the seaside town of Nha Trang, Vietnam.

The four other finalists were Miss Colombia Tailana Vargas, Miss Dominican Republic Marianne Cruz Gonzalez, Miss Mexico Elisa Najera, and Miss Russia Vera Krasova.

Dayana addresses a press conference after winning the crowned title.

The 22-year-old winner was crowned by Japan's Riyo Mori, Miss Universe 2007.

Tears of joy immediately rolled down from Dayana's eyes when her name was announced as the winner by the presenter, US talkshow host Jerny Springer.

Lift Every Voice and Sing? Some Thoughts on the "Black" National Anthem

Once upon a time, the black national anthem stood for something. These days, for many, it's out of tune and off key.

Lift EVERY Voice?
By Mark Anthony Neal | TheRoot.com

July 14, 2008--Jazz singer Rene Marie recently courted controversy when she performed at the "State of the City" address by Denver Mayor John Hickenlooper. Expected to sing the "Star Spangled Banner," Marie instead broke out into a rendition of "Lift Every Voice and Sing." Some have complained, including Colorado congressman Tom Tancredo, that Marie needlessly made a political statement at an event that didn't warrant as much. But Marie's choice here also raises the question about whether the song, commonly known as the "Negro" or "black" national anthem still holds the political meanings it once did.

"Lift ev'ry voice and sing, 'till Earth and heaven ring/Ring with the harmony of liberty."

James Weldon Johnson, the writer of those lyrics, would probably be surprised that nearly a century after he wrote "Lift Every Voice and Sing" that many still feel compelled to sing it. I'm not sure though that Johnson, one of the founding members of the NAACP and an important literary figure during the Harlem Renaissance would be pleased. The political impulses that motivated Johnson to write the song in the first place seem long removed from the consciousness of those who treat its singing as little more than a compulsory act of racial unity. Clearly, Johnson envisioned much more. Still, the song's title is intriguing. What does it really mean for black communities to sing the same songs-to hear the same melodies, to dance to the same rhythms?

Read the Full Essay @

Hip-Hop for VP: Rosa Clemente Runs on the Green Party Ticket

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
JULY 9th, 2008

Today Rosa A. Clemente released the following statement:

"I am honored and excited to accept this invitation to run with Cynthia McKinney. Cynthia McKinney is a hero to me and many others across this country and around the world for her courage in standing up to George Bush while the Democratic Party establishment caved.

"This campaign is the opportunity the Hip-Hop generation has been working for. This is our time to address the issues affecting our communities – rising unemployment, the high cost of food and housing, a lack of quality public education and access to higher education, the prison-industrial complex, and unaccountable corporate media. These issues are not being addressed by either the Republican or Democratic nominee.

"I choose to do this, not for me, but for my generation, my community and my daughter. I don't see the Green Party as an alternative; I see it as an imperative. I trust that my Vice Presidential run will inspire all people, but especially young people of color, to recognize that we have more then two choices. Together, we can build the future we've been wanting."

Hip-hop artist M1 says, "I've never voted in the Presidential election; I've never felt strongly enough about a candidate to. Knowing that Rosa Clemente is down with Cynthia McKinney's run, I feel that now is the greatest opportunity for the Hip-Hop community to put our collective strength and power to the test and vote for someone who represents who we are and what we stand for."

For more info visit:

rosaclemente.com

runcynthiarun.org


To schedule an interview, call 202-584-1021 or email
press-secretary@runcynthiarun.org

To book Rosa A. Clemente for an event, call 347-534-2994.

NBM Book Notes: Ms. Magazine Reviews 'Black Male Outsider'

from Ms. Magazine

New Wave Man
Review by Layli Phillips

Black Male Outsider:
Teaching as a Pro-Feminist Man—A Memoir
By Gary L. Lemons
SUNY Press

WHEN I STOP TO THINK ABOUT the successes of feminism, one of the most under-recognized yet remarkable is its production of feminist men. Male feminists prove that the transformation of society is truly achievable and not simply some utopian pipe dream or theoretical abstract. Such men are still relatively few and far between, but as Lemons proves in Black Male Outsider, a groundswell is in the making. This growing wave of men who identify with feminism is, on the one hand, an artifact of a generation that has grown up with feminism. On the other hand, it is a demonstration of the life-changing power of feminist thought—in this case, black feminist thought—on not just women, but on human beings of any gender.

After the manner of bell hooks, whom Lemons names as the biggest influence on his feminist development, this memoir is a captivating mixture of “professional” and “confessional” approaches. This style allows Lemons to interweave theory and autobiography with the personal narratives of his students, mostly but not exclusively white and female, who have been transformed by their encounter with black feminist thought delivered through the unlikely voice of a self-styled “professor of feminism.” By confronting white students about white identity, students of color about “passing,” and all students about the intersections of racism and sexuality, Lemons stewards his classes through profound shifts in thinking and empathy. In the end, he emerges not only as one of the most influential black male feminists, but also as a “wounded healer” of no small magnitude.

Read the Full Book Review @

***

Gary L. Lemons is Visiting Professor of English at the University of South Florida.

Hansika Motwani Sizzles On The Sets Of 'Money Hai Toh Honey Hai'

Megan Fox - Newest Photo Shoot Stills

Megan Fox Profile

Name: Megan Fox

Birth Name: Megan Denise Fox

Height: 5' 6"

Sex: F

Nationality: American

Birth Date: May 16, 1986

Birth Place: Tennessee, USA

Profession: Actress, Model

Relationship: Brian Austin Green (actor; born on July 15, 1973; engaged in November 2006)

Claim to fame: For her performances in the film Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen and the TV program Hope & Faith

Megan Fox Biography

Megan Denise Fox (born May 16, 1986) is an American actress and model. Fox's career in modeling and acting began with her winning several awards at the 1999 American Modeling and Talent Convention in Hilton Head Island, South Carolina. She began her acting with the film Holiday in the Sun (2001), later appearing in the films Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen, Crimes of Fashion, and the TV series The Help (all 2004). She is well known for her roles on the television series Hope & Faith (2004) and in the 2007 live-action film Transformers.

Fox has Irish, French, and Native American ancestry. She was born in Oak Ridge, Tennessee, the daughter of Darlene Tonachio, former Roane County, Tennessee Tourism Director, and Frank Fox, and she grew up in nearby Rockwood, Tennessee. She grew up in a "very poor" household and has one older sister. She was offered her first job at elite pictures london where she was given her first opportunity to star in a movie. Fox began her training in drama and dance at the age of 5 in Kingston, Tennessee. She attended a dance class at the community center there, and was involved in Kingston Elementary School's chorus and the Kingston Clippers swim team. At age 10, after moving to Florida, she continued her training and finished her high school education.

By age 13, Fox's talent for dance and modelesque beauty created new opportunities for her in the entertainment world. She began acting and modeling upon winning several awards at the 1999 American Modeling and Talent Convention in Hilton Head Island, South Carolina.

Fox made her film debut in the 2001 film Holiday in the Sun as the spoiled heiress Brianna Wallace and rival of Alex Stewart (Ashley Olsen). She then landed guest appearances on Ocean Ave., What I Like About You, Two and a Half Men and The Help from 2003 to 2004. In 2004, Fox starred in Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen alongside Lindsay Lohan. She was subsequently cast in her first recurring role in a television series on Hope & Faith, in which she portrayed Sydney Shanowski from 2004 until 2006.

Fox's big break arrived when she acquired the lead female role of Mikaela Banes in the highly-anticipated 2007 live-action film Transformers, based on the toy and cartoon saga of the same name. She played the love interest of Shia LaBeouf's character Sam Witwicky. In June 2007, Fox was cast in How to Lose Friends & Alienate People, starring alongside Jeff Bridges and Kirsten Dunst. Coincidentally, the character Fox will portray is that of a young Hollywood starlet getting her first taste of fame. The film will be released in late 2008. She is also signed on for two more Transformers sequels.

Kirsten Dunst - James White Photo Shoot Stills

Kirsten Dunst Profile

Birth Name: Kirsten Caroline Dunst

Born: April 30, 1982, Point Pleasant, New Jersey, USA

Height: 5' 7

Education: Notre Dame High School, a private Catholic high school, in Los Angeles (graduated in May 2000)

Nationality: American

Profession: Actress

Claim to fame: as Claudia in Interview with the Vampire: The Vampire Chronicles (1994)

Years active: 1989 - present

Kirsten Dunst Biography

Kirsten Caroline Dunst (born April 30, 1982) is an American actress, known for her roles in Interview with the Vampire (for which she received a Golden Globe nomination), The Virgin Suicides, Marie Antoinette, and Bring It On, as well as for her portrayal of Mary Jane Watson in the Spider-Man film series.

Dunst was born in Point Pleasant, New Jersey, to Inez and Klaus Dunst, who are separated. Her father, a German medical services executive from Hamburg, remained in New Jersey but now lives in Los Angeles, California. Her mother, a Swedish former art gallery owner, also moved to California. Dunst has a younger brother, Christian.

Dunst attended the Ranney School in New Jersey, and graduated in 2000 from Notre Dame High School, a private Catholic high school in the Sherman Oaks neighborhood of Los Angeles.

Katharine McPhee - Stewart Shining Photo Shoot

Katharine McPhee Profile

Name: Katharine McPhee

Birth Name: Katharine Hope McPhee

Height: 5' 8''

Sex: F

Nationality: American

Birth Date: March 25, 1984

Birth Place: Los Angeles, California, USA

Profession: Singer, Actress

Education: Notre Dame High School, Sherman Oaks, California
The Boston Conservatory (attended for 3 semester, majoring in musical
theater)

Husband/Wife: Nick Cokas (producer; married on February 2, 2008)

Father: Daniel McPhee

Mother: Peisha Burch McPhee (a vocal coach and accomplished cabaret singer)

Sister: Adrianna McPhee (older)

Claim to fame: Runner-up on the 5th season of American Idol

Katharine McPhee Biography

Katharine Hope McPhee (born March 25, 1984) is an American pop singer, actress and model who was the runner-up on the fifth season of American Idol in 2006.

Born in Los Angeles, California, McPhee moved with her parents and sister to the Sherman Oaks neighborhood at age 12. McPhee has been singing since the age of two. Her mother, Patricia Burch McPhee (stage name Peisha Arten), a vocal coach and accomplished cabaret singer, recognized a talent for music in her daughter and decided to train her. Her father, Daniel McPhee, is a television producer and her older sister, Adriana Burch McPhee (born June 30, 1982) is an aspiring producer as well.

McPhee graduated in 2002 from Notre Dame High School. At Notre Dame High School, McPhee was a swimmer and a thespian. She performed in school plays with her elder sister Adriana; both sisters were Homecoming Princess nominees in their senior year. Afterward, McPhee attended Boston Conservatory for three semesters, majoring in musical theater. McPhee left the college due to her manager's suggestion that she try out for television pilots in Los Angeles. In a People news article, it was reported that she was rejected in "only 195 out of 200 auditions." She was eventually cast as "Paramount Girl" in the 2006 musical film about the life of Hank Garland, Crazy. Other early acting endeavors included lead actress in local professional productions of Annie Get Your Gun and The Ghost and Mrs. Muir. She was nominated in 2005 for the Theatre L.A. Ovation Award for her lead role in Annie Get Your Gun. McPhee was also part of a failed mall-based MTV soap opera entitled You Are Here, playing the older sister of a more popular younger sister. In the soap opera, she was jealous of her popular younger sister.

On February 2, 2008, McPhee married 43-year-old boyfriend Nick Cokas in a Beverly Hills Presbyterian Church with a gospel choir. There were about 300 guests in attendance, including The House Bunny co-star Rumer Willis. Country music artist and fellow American Idol 5 contestant Kellie Pickler was a bridesmaid.