Despite their storied place in the hip-hop pantheon, it’s been a long time since Public Enemy has been relevant. While it’s true that Chuck D has been on the grind since 2004 helping to unite the hip-hop nation that effectively elected this country’s first black president, the music has been somewhat lacking. It doesn’t help that in recent years PE’s resident hype-man Flavor Flav has been detrimentally clowning on reality television via VH1, lowering the bar for folk of color on all levels. On their latest effort, Most of My Heroes Still Don’t Appear On No Stamp, Public Enemy reaches back to 1989 for refrains that still fight the power, but when Flav name-checks Angela Davis, Huey P. Newton, H. Rap Brown, and Marcus Garvey on the album’s title cut, it somehow seems empty. Backed by gritty Bomb-Squad-evoking production, Chuck D once again rises above the fray, thus saving the day. On scorching tracks including “Get Up Stand Up” featuring Brother Ali, “Catch the Thrown” with Large Professor, and “Get It In” featuring Bumpy Knuckles, Chuck D sharply reminds us of the relevance of conscious rap.
Although Afro-futurism doesn't have one clear-cut definition, for the purpose of this article we'll go with the one that defines it as a study of science-fiction themes with particular emphasis on the way advances in technology will affect the Black - that is African diasporic - experience. Afro-futurism is a response to any imagined future that excludes Black people, perspectives from Black culture, as well as African history, artists and writers, and those invested in Afro-futurism are attempting to include and represent Black people in the future as they imagine it.
The first person to use the term was apparently Mark Dery, who defined Afro-futurism as“speculative fiction that treats African-American themes and addresses African-American concerns in the context of 20th century technoculture – and more generally, African-American signification that appropriates images of technology and a prosthetically enhanced – might, for want of a better term, be called 'Afro-futurism'." Afro-futuristic fashion, literature and music boomed especially in the 70s and 80s, envisioning a brighter future for oppressed people.
Nonetheless, Afro-futurism is still an emerging genre, so there isn't that much information about the subject out there, and what there is is scattered all over the place. Most of the discussions on the subject posit Afro-futurism as solely relating to the African-American experience. However, with the growing interest in the place of science fiction in Africa, and in the way Africans imagine themselves in the future, Afro-futurism is slowly being looked at from the African perspective as well.
Spoek Mathambo @ Lincoln Hall, Chicago 7/18/12 (Photo credit: Victoria Holt)
Afro-futuristic sounds and the African connection The legendary Sun Ra, whose album Space is the Place (1973) ranks number 18 in this compilation of 100 albums every science fiction and fantasy fan should listen to, was a jazz composer as well as a pioneer of Afro-futurism. He presented himself as being part of the Angel Race that came from Saturn, and he incorporated themes of space travel into his music, which was geared as much towards entertainment as it was to the spiritually uplifting African-Americans and connecting them to African history.
South African sonic explorer Spoek Mathambo cites Sun Ra as one of his greatest influences. Sun Ra created a whole universe and thus started an alternative narrative, and Spoek is one of the few African musicians to have openly claimed the term Afro-futurism. In this interview with Afripop Mag, he describes Afro-futurism as a “cultural lineage” with writers on one end and musicians on the other.
One of Afro-futurism's main concerns is history, the history of African peoples as well as their cultures. By creating alternate histories, Afro-futurists challenge colonial narratives of African histories and cultures and seek to awaken the pride and self-confidence of African peoples. It should thus come as no surprise that African musicians who dabble with Afro-futurist themes incorporate commentary on culture and society, and the African future and history, which makes their efforts run deeper than just copying themes from a Western music video.
What do African musicians see when they imagine the future using 20th century technologies as their context?
Simphiwe Dana
“Connecting to the God entity” My initial introduction to Afro-futurist themes as tackled by African musicians was through another South African singer, Simphiwe Dana, through her music video for Ndiredi, which I saw for the first time five or six years ago.
I still don't know the meaning of the Xhosa words Simphiwe croons on this track, but I have my personal understanding of Ndiredi. I see the song, through the video, as being about connecting. Connecting not only with the cosmos - as the alignment of the stars is mentioned in the video - but also with the past, which is represented by the three elegantly dressed women sitting around the well. In this interview, Simphiwe Dana talks about connecting to the God entity, and I feel this very much in Ndiredi. However, don't take my word for it; apparently, Ndiredi shows “a sketch of a future Africa in which the West never had a hand...looking at utopian ideas based on African philosophy” and “African futurism based on traditional African principles”.
The video itself is visually stunning. Starting in a metropolis, Ndiredi reveals an African future with the usual Western tropes: flying cars, isolation, doors that open by palm scan, television screens and videos reminiscent of Big Brother. However, the African archetype remains. As the video progresses we see an abundance of nature, first in the verdant forest and then in the ochre desert. A thread of spirituality runs through Simphiwe Dana's albums, in particular Zandisile and The One Love Movement on Bantu Biko Street, both of which also possess incredibly soothing sounds. Afro-futurist themes pervade these albums, even though Simphiwe Dana has yet to release a video on the same level as Ndiredi.
Just A Band
“I'll sit on my piano and play something spacey” The super talented, super nerdy, Nairobi based group Just A Band - they are artists, musicians, producers, filmmakers, DJs - has had consistent Afro-futurist themes in their lyrics and music videos. The video for Usinibore shows a dystopian African police state where a group of dancers with painted faces and young people face off against the police, while the lyrics state fiercely “don't tell me what I can or can't do, I can change the world” and “just because I am an African with Black skin, it doesn't mean that I won't win if I try”. Lyrics like these, which aim to instil pride and confidence, are part and parcel of Afro-futurism.
Meanwhile, in Huff + Puff they sing about having been to the moon and back. The video features one of their members wearing a kaftan and mask reminiscent of ancient Egypt, itself a leitmotif of Afro-futurism. While watching the video with a friend, he pointed out the steampunk aesthetics also incorporated in Huff + Puff: the goggles, overalls, bow ties and top hats.
Looking at another Just A Band video, Kichwateli, an “Afro sci-fi music-mentary” written by Bobb Muchiri and performed by the band, it seems the group is on the same page as Jonathan Doste, who says that “Africa is science fiction...Africa is cyberpunk”. By drawing on the landmarks and themes of today, they create something entirely new and very thought-provoking.
I hope more Africans play with Afro-futurism in the future. I would love to see more videos and listen to more music that takes on 20th century technologies and ideas from the West, while continuing in the path of African traditions that speak of aliens and space travel.
Coal Feminist Review is currently seeking submissions for an upcoming experimental anthology of writing by Women and Men of Colour around the world with feminist / leftist / womanist / wombist / wave feminist leaning. LGBTQ is more than welcomed, but must be aimed at issues facing women, girls and children.
THE THEME OF THE ANTHOLOGY: Modes of Transportation
How people move from one place to another using traditional and non-traditional modes of transportation. This is Philosophical, Political, major life changing events, and the predictable. Be as creative and as free as your imagingation will take you!
For those submitting investigative reporting or scholarly research, information on refugee women, asylum seekers, incarcerated women, women on death row, women in gangs, honour killings, muslim feminists, witch camps, FGM, other issues affecting women and transportation, etc., would be suitable for publication within this anthology.
PUBLICATION FORMAT: E-publication in February 2013, Print Publication in March 2013
WHAT TO SUBMIT: A well crafted piece of work in poetry, prose, fiction, cross-genre, and non-fiction. Genre specific submission instructions under "How to Submit" below. Experimental works more than welcome.
SUBMISSION:
First attachment including: Name, Email, Country of Origin, Nationality, Inspiration (no more than 200 words). Optional: Personal Bio (no more than 200 words), telephone number, address, jpeg photograph (the attachment of the photograph will mean your email submission will have 3 attachments).
Second attachment including: Your submission following the criteria in "How to Submit". In the footer of each submission please include your name and page numbers. If submitting multiple genres, please limit to one submission per each genre to not exceed 3 submissions (and please, include in the Header the type of genre your work represents).
Email your attachments in doc, docx, or rtf to queries@coalfeministreview.com with "Modes of Transportation" in the subject line.
Please ensure all content is your original work.
HOW TO SUBMIT:
All submissions are to be double spaced (except for plays), 11 font, Arial or Calibri, Standard 2.54cm margins and in doc, docx, or rtf format. All work must be unpublished (this includes work published on blogs and social networking sites).
Poetry: Prose, micro-poetry, Lyrical, Narrative: No more than 5 submissions. No more than 50 lines each poem.
Fiction: No more than 2 submissions. Cross-genre no more than 6 pages. Short Stories no more than 7 pages. Letters: (no more than 2 pages). Plays: no more than 15 pages, single spaced.
Non-Fiction: Investigative reporting, scholarly research, Biography, Autobiography, Essay - No more than 2 submissions of no more than 3,500 words. This must be socially current, unpublished, original investigation and research.
What is 52 years after? 52 YEARS AFTER is an international poetry competition for Nigerians of all ethnic groups, all ages and educational strata. It is a competition to determine the best of Nigerian poetry and the general attitude of the common Nigerian towards his home, birthplace and country. It is a platform to express certain latent, pent and powerful emotions about our fatherland in the form of poetry.
PLATFORM: This concept is to be achieved by creating an anthology from the best 52 entries in the competition as selected by a team of reputable judges. The book containing the best 52 poems will be titled 52 YEARS AFTER: How Far Gone? to be published in October 2012.
Send your poem to our e-mail: 52yearsafter@Gmail.com. Name, age, city & phone no must be included. You could also add brief comments on your pieces if you wish.
Tell others about it, by adding them to our facebook page, by mentioning us on twitter and by talking about it with your friends.
MAXIMUM NUMBER OF POEMS PER ENTRANT: 3 poems
JUDGING CRITERIA | The entries submitted will be judged base on the following criteria:
The Poetic Skill
Message
Depth of Meaning
Emotion
Appeal
BENEFITS OF THE PROJECT
$300 cash prize for the top entrant, $200 for the 1st runner up and $100 for the second runner up.
A prestigious chance to get your work published
A wonderful opportunity to appraise yourself and your writing skills.
An interesting outlet for you to express your feelings about your country Nigeria.
Networking opportunities for writers, publishers and other media people within the art industry.
Many African countries consider homosexuality immoral. In some, homosexuals are subjected to corporal punishment, imprisonment, or death, simply because of their sexual orientation. These hateful acts are further galvanized by such slogans as “to be homosexual is un-African.”
With this anthology, we reject this slogan and all acts of aggression against members of LGBT communities in Africa. “We maintain that to be homosexual is African.”
We are calling for poems by gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender individuals living in Africa and in the Diaspora. The poems may focus on loss, childhood, violence, food, discrimination, love, fruits, disease, migration, strife, etc. In other words, poems on any topic are welcome – and in any form. The only requirement is that each poem must be of high merit.
We prefer unpublished poems. Poems can be in any language; however, translations have to be provided in English. If original poems are accepted, they will be published alongside the translations. If a translator is used, the author should indicate how credit should be acknowledged. Please submit no more than five poems.
Send email submissions to Abayomi Animashaun (abayo.animashaun@gmail.com) by January 20, 2013. Please include “Poetry Submission” in the subject line.
CONTACT INFORMATION:
For queries/ submissions: Abayomi Animashaun (English Department, University of Wisconsin-Oshkosh) at abayo.animashaun@gmail.com
That, at least, is the story behind Reincarnation, the legendary West Coast rapper’s new album. Instead of a hip-hop record, Reincarnation is a reggae album with production work from Diplo and Switch’s Major Lazer project. But if you thought this merely marked a half-baked side-project from a stoned, rich and bored man in his forties, think again: Snoop Lion is, apparently, here to stay.
Speaking to press in New York this week, Snoop claimed that he hadn’t planned to go to Jamaica to make a reggae record, but “the spirit called me … And, you know, anytime the spirit calls you, you gotta know that its serious.”
Indeed. Continuing, Snoop explained that he doesn’t want Reincarnation to portray “Snoop Dogg in a reggae track”, instead, claiming that he “want[s] to bury Snoop Dogg and become Snoop Lion”, after a spiritual meeting with a high priest in Jamaica. “Rap is not a challenge to me. I had enough of that. It’s not appealing to me no more. I don’t have no challenges … I’m ‘Uncle Snoop’ in rap. When you get to be an uncle, you need to find a new profession so you can start over and be fresh again.”
Snoop Lion will also, it seems, be a more family-friendly rapper. “I’ve always wanted to perform for kids, my grand mother and people around the world that love me, can’t accept the music that I make. This reggae music is the music of love, happiness and struggle.” Wonder how long this’ll last, then. [via All Hip-Hop]
Yesterday, it was announced that Snoop Dogg – sorry, Lion – had been banned from Norway for two years. You can watch the official trailer for Reincarnated the film, a documentary on Snoop’s transformation made by Vice in partnership with Snoopadelic Films, below.
Sunday evening we attended an onstage conversation between poet Amiri Baraka and bassist Reggie Workman at Oakland's Eastside Arts Center. Actually it wasn't onstage but the esteemed gentlemen were part of the circle of artists, intellectuals and community people who turned out for the event.
Since I declined to speak at the event, I am posting my comments now. Since the age of fourteen or fifteen, I have listened to jazz. Of course I heard it growing up, especially my family moved from Fresno to Oakland's 7th Street, but was turned on to jazz by a heroin addict friend, Ronald Williams. In between shooting dope, Ronald and his friends used to listen to jazz and discuss Islam. What a potent mixture! I didn't indulge the dope, but I listened to the music and conversation. Sometimes we'd be a a little cafe on Whitesbridge and they would play Nina Simone's I Love You Porgy over and over.
Once in Oakland and living on 7th Street in the back of my parents Florist business, jazz filled my world, especially as a Cub Scout hustling Jet and Ebony magazines up and down 7th. Of course I recall the signs on the wall of Slim Jenkin's Club advertising such artists as Josephine Baker and Father Earl Hines. I'd heard my parents discussing Jo Baker many times. Not much jazz was played in our house, but I did hear the big band music of Count Basie and Duke Ellington.
Up and down 7th I could hear music blasting on the juke box, blues and jazz, especially that B-3 Hammond organ. The Hammond took my soul into another zone. Poet Avotcha has a poem and play called Oaktown Blues. It is a masterful piece but somehow she never mentions that organ music by Jimmy Smith and others. When I think of West Oakland music culture in the late 50s, I think of the B-3. It seemed to dominate the scene. I understand this was true in Newark, New Jersey and other places as well.
My association with jazz continued with lessons from my high school girlfriend, Sherley A. Williams (RIP), who had an access to her sister Ruby's extensive collection of blues and jazz, Sherley turned me onto Hank Crawford and a few others.
In 1966, playwright Ed Bullins and I established Black Arts West Theatre in San Francisco's Fillmore. We were soon joined by a host of musicians, e.g., Dewey Redman, Earl Davis, Oliver Jackson, BJ, Monte Waters, Rafael Donald Garrett, et al. In freestyle, they accompanied our plays and went outside to play in harmony with the street sounds, car horns, human sounds, the wind and fog.
They helped free us poets, playwrights and actors from the white supremacy esthetic as per formal drama. They smashed the very concept and made us conscious just how free one can be if one will just go there. They told us thespians, just do your thing and we will come in and out as we desire. They went from stage to audience, in the best manner of what would become known as ritual theatre, similar to the circle at Sunday's conversation at Eastside Arts.
After Black Arts West Theatre went under, Eldridge Cleaver, Ed Bullins, Ethna Wyatt (Hurriyah) and myself founded Black House on Broderick Street in SF. The Chicago Art Ensemble performed at Black House, which the hot political/culture center during 1967. After introducing Eldridge to Black Panthers Huey Newton and Bobby Seale, Black House soon became the SF headquarters. The artists were kicked out due to ideological differences: cultural nationalism versus political nationalism. Sometime later the Panthers would understand the necessity of the cultural revolution--this was after they attended the Pan African Arts Festival in Algeria. But soon after the fall of Black House, many artists, musicians, poets, fled the negative atmosphere of the Bay for New York. Ed Bullins fled to New York and joined the New Lafayette Theatre in Harlem. I fled to Toronto, Canada as a draft resister. After about six months, I returned underground to Chicago, hanging around OBAC (Organization of Black American Culture) and Phil Koran's Afro-Arts Theatre. OBAC poets included Don L. Lee, aka Haki Madhubuti, Gwen Brooks, Hoyt Fuller, Carolyn Rogers, Jewell Lattimore, et al.
Marvin X and Sun Ra
I was in Chicago when Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated, but soon fled to New York when I found out the FBI was closing in on me. Ed invited me to work at the New Lafayette Theatre as associate editor of Black Theatre Magazine. Much like Rumi meeting Shams, or Malcolm X meeting Elijah Muhammad, I met Sun Ra and my world has never been the same. With Sun Ra I discovered the depths of drama, the integration of poetry, music, dance, lights, costume, mythology. Sun Ra taught the necessity of artistic and personal discipline to be one's creative best. During this time I met drummer Milford Graves. He frightened me to death with his aggressive drummer, so bold that he was banned from playing downtown New York. Milford's music was so political, it was then that I finally realized the musicians and arts were the vanguard of spreading revolutionary consciousness. The politicos had much to learn from them. The arts gave the musicians and poets more mental balance and especially more spirituality.
The essence of Sunday's conversation at Eastside Arts was that musicians, poets, rappers must know our history and stay connected with the people. Amiri Baraka pointed out that we are still slaves, although Elder Ed Howard would argue that we are not slaves, rather simply Africans caught in the slave system. For example, Ed would say how could slaves or free slaves publish a newspaper called Freedom's Journal in 1827? How could a slave write David Walker's Appeal, 1829? How could a slave write the Frederick Douglas classic What to a slave is the 4th of July?
Workman and Baraka stressed Jazz is the only American music, the other music is European, only jazz is American. James Baldwin said in my 1968 interview with him, "We're the only thing that happened here, nothing else happened here but us!"
The heroin addicts love jazz, the Crack heads hated jazz and all other music, including speech. Long before I became a crack head, I noticed when I came into the crack din no one looked up or even acknowledged I was in the room. Only silence and the passing of the pipe from one crack head to another. Absolutely, there was no music played since the psychosis necessitated silence, for one had to listen for sounds that didn't exist, only in our warped minds.
We imagined police were at the door, or that friends were outside the door plotting to kill us. We even thought the friends or crack heads at the table were whispering about how to kill us, since they knew we had money. We imagined our girlfriend was knocking at the door, so we went to the door to let her in but no one was there, only the rustling leaves on the tree in the yard.This drama went on for twelve years, no music, no sounds, no talking, sometimes no sex since we couldn't function sexually—our shit was like silly putty under the influence of crack. No human touch for years, only the daily hustle for dope money. We wonder how was it possible for a crack head to hustle money every day of his crack life, but once clean and sober he is broke.And so the music I loved was no longer part of my life, only the silence in the wind and the madness of my mind. And yet I had become accustomed to life without music so that even upon recovery, it would be years before I could listen to jazz. When I did listen to music it was P and D music, as Sun Ra called popular music, Pussy and Dick music. Only now, 2012, have I seriously returned to jazz, the music so necessary for my consciousness, spirituality, and mental health.As I said in Part I, we Black Arts poets styled ourselves after the jazz musicians. Even now, I try to write like they play, to go as far out as I can go with my words on paper. I am consciously trying to write like Coltrane, Parker and Miles played, to take the mind to the outer limits, to jump out of the box of white supremacy psycholinguistics, in short, to transcend the English language, or even if I use the devil tongue, I will flip the script, reverse the meaning of words, say the wildest shit that can come to my mind, of course a little Henny helps! One thing about that Henny, there shall be no writer's block—you will tell the truth, even if it will frighten you to death in the morning when you read some of the shit you've written. Often you must hit delete several times to not reveal too much truth, as a judge friend says I do too much.
I just recalled that on one occasion during those crack years I did connect with jazz. I used to live in one of those SRO hotels near San Francisco's Union Square, near Geary and Grant. During this time I would be in my room smoking crack, separating from reality. Then many nights I would hear the most melodious music imaginable. It was so beautiful I would take a break from the Crack pipe to run outside to find the source of the music.
It was sax man Sonny Simmons playing on the corner. Sometimes it seemed his music was floating in the night fog, drawing me to where he played. I was so in awe of the beauty he expressed that I was forced to give him a donation because I knew his music was trying to save me. This happened many nights that I would be forced to stop my madness and go out to give him a donation. Now Sonny may have had his own problems since many street hustlers are dope fiends, especially musicians, but it didn't matter to me because I needed to hear Sonny's sounds like a thirsty man needs water.
Not long ago Sonny and Amiri Baraka performed together at Eastside Arts Center and I reminded him of those days and what I used to do when I heard him. It was like a private concert that temporarily liberated me from my madness. Thank you, Sonny.
A young African-American man in Jonesboro, AR died of a gunshot wound to the head while handcuffed in the back of a patrol car.
Chavis Carter was arrested for alleged drug possession and for missing a court date on previous drug charges.
Sergeant Lyle Waterworth of the Jonesboro police department claims that despite having been searched and handcuffed before being placed inside of the squad car, Carter somehow managed to shoot himself in the head.
Carter’s grieving mother rejects the official police story.
“Carter’s mother, Teresa, isn’t buying the story. First, she claimed that her son was searched twice. She said that he was left-handed, but was shot in the right temple. She also said that he had called his girlfriend after he got pulled over and told her he’d call her from jail. She believes her son was killed.
The incident is under investigation. The officer is on leave.”
Courtesy: wolfsonarchive.org — Author James Baldwin taped a candid and fascinating studio interview at WCKT - Miami in 1963. Featured in this edition of the long running program, “Florida Forum”: questions by an in-studio audience and a panel of local journalists.
The finalists for the 14th Annual Frederick Douglass Book Prize have been announced.
From the announcement:
Robin Blackburn for The American Crucible: Slavery, Emancipation and Human Rights (Verso Books)
In The American Crucible, Robin Blackburn has provided one of the most commanding and wide-ranging examinations of Atlantic abolitionism in years. In an era of specialization, Blackburn thinks big, connecting emancipation moments through both time and space. Blackburn’s work compels scholars to think anew about abolitionism’s relevance to global modernity.
R. Blakeslee Gilpin for John Brown Still Lives: America’s Long Reckoning with Violence,Equality, and Change (University of North Carolina Press)
Finding new scholarly perspectives on John Brown is no easy task but R. Blakeslee Gilpin’s engaging and ramifying book does just that by examining the myriad ways that Americans have used Brown’s memory since the Civil War era. John Brown Still Lives! offers a profound meditation on the long-running debate over slavery, freedom and the struggle for racial justice in American hearts and minds.
Carla L. Peterson for Black Gotham: A Family History of African Americans in Nineteenth-Century New York City (Yale University Press)
Carla Peterson’s Black Gotham brilliantly reconstructs her own family’s elusive past as a window unto free black life in 19th century New York. Part detective tale, part cultural history, Peterson’s book recaptures hidden stories of black abolitionism, economic uplift, Civil War heroism, and turn-of-the-century civil rights movements. By painstakingly reconstructing a segment of black New York, Peterson highlights a vibrant cast of characters who constantly redefined the meaning of both American and African American freedom.
James H. Sweet for Domingos Álvares, African Healing, and the Intellectual History of the Atlantic World (University of North Carolina Press)
James Sweet’s thoughtful and moving book about African healer Domingos Alvares provides much more than a biographical portrait of a remarkable 18th century man. Rather, Sweet’s imaginative reconstruction of Alvares’ life in and out of bondage places African worldviews at the center of Atlantic history. Domingos Alvares also makes a compelling case for redefining the intellectual history of Atlantic society from Africans’ perspectives.
The winner will be announced following the Douglass Prize Review Committee meeting in the fall, and the award will be presented at a celebration in New York City on February 28, 2013. This year’s finalists were selected from a field of over one hundred entries by a jury of scholars that included Richard S. Newman, Chair (Rochester Institute of Technology), Shawn Alexander (University of Kansas), and Linda Heywood (Boston University).
The Frederick Douglass Book Prize was established in 1999 to stimulate scholarship in the field by honoring outstanding accomplishments. Previous winners are Ira Berlin and Philip D. Morgan in 1999; David Eltis, 2000; David Blight, 2001; Robert Harms and John Stauffer, 2002; James F. Brooks and Seymour Drescher, 2003; Jean Fagan Yellin, 2004; Laurent Dubois, 2005; Rebecca J. Scott, 2006; Christopher Leslie Brown, 2007; Stephanie Smallwood, 2008; Annette Gordon-Reed, 2009; Siddharth Kara, Judith Carney, and Richard N. Rosomoff, 2010; Stephanie McCurry, 2011.
