Showing posts with label music is love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music is love. Show all posts

Sunday, August 16, 2026

Songs of enslavement, resistance, and the journey to freedom

Songs of enslavement, resistance, and the journey to freedom

https://www.dailykos.com/stories/2026/8/16/800084520/series/songs-of-enslavement-resistance-and-the-journey-to-freedom/ 

Songs of enslavement, resistance, and the journey to freedom

Landing Negroes at Jamestown from Dutch man-of-war, 1619.
Landing Negroes at Jamestown from Dutch man-of-war, 1619.Library of Congress original

Legendary activist and longtime Daily Kos contributor Denise Oliver Velez sadly passed away on July 15. She left us with an astounding collection of stories dedicated to celebrating Black music. Daily Kos hopes to honor her memory by continuing to share these timeless pieces.

This story originally ran Aug. 20, 2023.


Black Music Sunday is a weekly series highlighting all things Black music. With 170 stories (and counting) covering performers, genres, history, and more, each featuring its own vibrant soundtrack, I hope you’ll find some familiar tunes and perhaps an introduction to something new.

As racist right-wing governing bodies attempt to erase teaching the truth about this country’s birth and growth that were sustained by enslaving Black people, it’s important to mark an historic date in that history: the Jamestown landing on Aug. 20, 1619, and The New York Times’ ambitious and award-winning “The 1619 Project,” launched on the 400th anniversary in 2019.

While slavery here actually began earlier, “The 1619 Project” brought enslavement back into the mainstream discussion, which has only intensified over the past four years. Such debates—as well as the pure BS being spewed in support of Florida’s claims of slavery’s “benefits” to those in bondage—got me thinking about the music that tells the story of the brutal voyages here, and the fates that befell enslaved Africans and their descendants once—or if—they arrived.


Related | Who’s afraid of the 1619 Project?


One of the most powerful pieces of music to tell the story of the ships bringing enslaved Africans here through the Middle Passage was sung by an unlikely group of R&B musicians and childhood friends: The O’Jays. In 2021, Otis Alexander profiled the group for Black Past.

The O’Jays, an R&B ensemble from Canton, Ohio, was formed in 1958 by childhood friends Eddie Levert, who was born in Bessemer, Alabama in 1942 and moved to Canton at the age of 8, and Walter Williams, Sr. born in Canton in 1942. They became best friends and a singing duet in 1958. The duo invited other schoolmates who could sing, William Powell, born in Canton in 1942; Bobby Massey, born in Canton in 1942; and Bill Isles, born in 1941 in McAntenville, North Carolina, also joined. The five, all of whom attended McKinley High School in Canton, first called themselves the Triumphs but in 1960 they changed their name to the Mascots. In 1961, The Mascots released a single, “Miracles,” on the Cincinnati-based King label. Their song was actively promoted by Eddie O’Jay, a popular disc jockey in Cleveland, Ohio. As a tribute to him, they in 1963 rename themselves the O’Jays.

[…]

Kenny Gamble & Leon A. Huff signed the O’Jays to their Philadelphia International label in 1972 and there they had their first and only million-selling single, “Back Stabbers” which reached #1 on the R&B chart and no. #3 pop on the US Billboard Hot 100 later that year. In 1973, their hit “Love Train” followed, peaking at #9 on the R&B chart. Unusual for an R&B song, the lyrics of “Love Train” promoted global unity. While not as successful as “Back Stabbers,” it went gold, selling more than 500,000 copies. Many music critics considered it the birth of Philadelphia-style soul music.

In late 1973, the O’Jays built upon the “Back Stabbers” success with a hit album entitled “Ship Ahoy.” However, the titular song, written by Gamble and Huff, got very little radio airplay—in no small part because it was nearly 10 minutes long!

Allen Castle of the “10 Minute Record Reviews” YouTube channel covers the background of the record—including bits about its production, Gamble and Huff, and the O’Jays.


 

Give a listen to the chilling “Ship Ahoy.”


 

Professor Sasha Panaram wrote “’Ship Ahoy’: The Sounds of Slavery” for the 2014 Black Atlantic seminar at Duke University.

The song, “Ship Ahoy,” itself is unlike anything of its time. First off, “Ship Ahoy” is nine minutes and forty seconds long – three times the length of any song typically produced today or even in the 1970s. The first voice of the song that appears roughly forty-seconds after the song begins is that of a long drawn out groan or sigh. Prior to this voice, listeners sense they are on a ship after hearing sounds resembling strong winds, splashing water, wooden creaks, and thunderous storms. When the O’Jays start singing their lyrics describe the people onboard – “men, women, and baby slaves” – and their journey to the “land of liberty” where “life’s design is already made.” As the O’Jays sing of the tiring journey across the Atlantic, the only constant in the slaves’ lives is the sun that beats down on them. By the end of the song, the O’Jays initial description of the “land of liberty” becomes a “jail” – an unpromising destination where slaves are beaten, exploited for labor, and forever subordinate to their masters.

While the lyrics of “Ship Ahoy” tell of the exhaustive journey of the Middle Passage and the slaves arrival in the Americas, the silences of the song are equally important. The long gaps and pauses apparent throughout the song and especially at the beginning reflect the waiting that the slaves endured as they were shipped from one location to another. Although the long pause at the start of the song is unsettling to listeners since we are used to hearing words shortly after the music begins, the silence attempts to replicate in listeners the feeling of uncertainty in slaves who embarked on journeys with very few details, if any, about their impending trips. The one phrase used the most in the O’Jays song is “Ship Ahoy.” “Ship Ahoy” is the phrase the O’Jays belt out between verses. While the exact origin of this phrase is unknown, “Ship Ahoy” was generally used by sailors to both greet ships and announce their presence. That the O’Jays choose to not only name their song “Ship Ahoy,” but also repeat the phrase excessively throughout the song suggests their desire to call attention to the hundreds upon thousands of ships that facilitated the Middle Passage.

Here are the lyrics:

Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy!
Ship Ahoy, yeah
Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy!
Ship Ahoy

As far as your eyes can see
Men, women, and baby slaves
Coming to the land of Liberty
Where life’s design is already made
So young and so strong
They’re just waiting to be saved…
Lord, I’m so tired
And I know you’re tired too
Look over the horizon, see the sun
Shining down on you…

Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy!
Ship Ahoy, yeah
Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy!
Ship Ahoy. uh-huh

Can’t you feel the motion of the ocean
Can’t you feel the cold wind blowing by?
There’s so many fish in the sea

We’re just, we’re just, we’re just
We’re just masts?
Riding on the waves…
The waves
We are
Riding on the waves…

Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy!
Ship Ahoy, now yeah
Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy!

They’re coming by the hundreds
Coming by the thousands, too
Look over the horizon, see the sun
Shining down on you…

Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy!
My-yyy
Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy!
Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy!
Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy!

We’re just, we’re just, we’re just
We’re just masts?
Riding on the waves…
The waves
We are
Riding on the waves…

Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy!
Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy!
Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy!
Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy!
Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy!
Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy!
Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy!
Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy!
Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy!
Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy!
Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy!
Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy! Ship Ahoy!

Totin’ that barge, lift that bail
Get a little something, gonna land in jail
Somebody bite the whip
I’m your master
And you’re my slave
Uh-huh
And you’re my slave
I’m your master
Look over there, what do you see
Tell him look over here, what do you see

To me poetry is music in words. Today’s selection is from poet Robert Hayden, who Poet.org describes as “the first Black American to be appointed as consultant in poetry to the Library of Congress (later called the poet laureate).”

Born Asa Bundy Sheffey on August 4, 1913, Robert Hayden was raised in the Detroit neighborhood Paradise Valley. He had an emotionally tumultuous childhood and lived, at times, with his parents and with a foster family. In 1932, he graduated from high school and, with the help of a scholarship, attended Detroit City College (later, Wayne State University). In 1944, Hayden received his graduate degree from the University of Michigan.

Hayden published his first book of poems, Heart-Shape in the Dust (Falcon Press), in 1940, at the age of twenty-seven. He enrolled in a graduate English literature program at the University of Michigan, where he studied with W. H. Auden. Auden became an influential and critical guide in the development of Hayden’s writing. Hayden admired the work of Edna St. Vincent MillayElinor WileyCarl Sandburg, and Hart Crane, as well as the poets of the Harlem RenaissanceLangston HughesCountee Cullen, and Jean Toomer. He had an interest in African American history and explored his concerns about race in his writing. Hayden ultimately authored nine collections of poetry during his lifetime, as well as a collection of essays, and some children’s literature. Hayden’s poetry gained international recognition in the 1960s, and he was awarded the grand prize for poetry at the First World Festival of Negro Arts in Dakar, Senegal in 1966 for his book Ballad of Remembrance (Paul Breman, 1962).

Hayden published “Middle Passage” in 1945.


 

During and after the Middle Passage, many of the enslaved Africans from areas around Benin, and those who later embraced the faith of Vodou after arriving in the New World, called down curses on their enslavers. One of the most powerful deities in the Vodou pantheon is the Lwa Damballah: the Sky Father.

Bahamian folk musician Exuma wrote and recorded this song to Dambala in 1970, and Nina Simone covered it in 1974. It is one of Simone’s most powerful songs, if still not very well-known, half a century later.

Listening to her rendition makes the hair on my arms stand up.


 

Lyrics:

Oh Dambala, come Dambala
Oh Dambala, come Dambala
Think of the wings of a three-toed frog
Eat weeds from the deepest part of sea
Oh Dambala, come Dambala
Oh Dambala, come Dambala

On the seventh day, God will be there
On the seventh night, satan will be there
On the seventh day, God will appear
On the seventh night, satan will be there
You slavers will know
What it’s like to be a slave
Slave to your heart
Slave to your soul
Oh Dambala, come Dambala
Oh Dambala, come Dambala

You slavers will know
What it’s like to be a slave
Slave to your mind
Slave to your race
You won’t go to heaven
You won’t go to hell
You remain in your graves
With the stench and the smell
Oh Dambala, come Dambala
Oh Dambala, come Dambala

Enslaved women were often faced with the agony of having their children sold and sent away from them, many of those children born out of rape. In 2017’s “At the Purchaser’s Option,” Grammy award-winning folksinger, musician, and music historian Rhiannon Giddens sings the story of one of those women.


 

From the video’s YouTube notes:

“Last year I came across an advertisement from the 1830s for a young woman; thinking about her, and how she had to maintain her humanity against horrific odds inspired this song named for the end of the ad: ‘She has with her a 9-month old baby, who is at the purchaser’s option.” — Rhiannon

At the Purchaser’s Option (Rhiannon Giddens/Joey Ryan)

I have a babe but shall I keep him
‘Twill come the day when I’ll be weepin’
But how can I love him any less
This little babe upon my breast

You can take my body
You can take my bones
You can take my blood
But not my soul

I’ve got a body dark and strong
I was young but not for long
You took me to bed a little girl
Left me in a woman’s world

Day by day I work the line
Every minute overtime
Fingers nimble, fingers quick
My fingers bleed to make you rich

As enslaved people adopted the religion of their enslavers, they often used their permitted Sunday gathering to sing spiritual and gospel songs—songs that carried messages, hopes, dreams, and plans to escape to freedom.


Related | Black music is Black history: Our spirituals


One of those such songs was “Old Ship of Zion,” sung below by Dr. Bernice Johnson Reagon, civil rights activist, ethnomusicologist, and founder of the music group Sweet Honey In The Rock.

In the liner notes of her 1975 album” Give Your Hands to Struggle,” Reagon wrote:

“’The Old Ship of Zion,’ a spiritual and gospel hymn, is also associated with the culture of the 19th century Underground Railroad. A congregational singing of this song goes on for many verses as the singers build it together. You can add as many verses as you like about this image of a ship bringing hope and life, set against the memory of that other ship of slavery and death. The song has probably remained so important because of its connection to those of us who are living evidence of having survived the experience.”

Give it a listen.


 

When I think of songs providing a roadmap for those running toward freedom, I always think of “Follow the Drinking Gourd,” though on a website devoted to the song, music researcher Joel Bresler challenges that notion.

The Drinking Gourd song was supposedly used by an Underground Railroad operative to encode escape instructions and a map. These directions then enabled fleeing slaves to make their way north from Mobile, Alabama to the Ohio River and freedom.

[…]

Much of the Drinking Gourd’s enduring appeal derives from its perceived status as a unique, historical remnant harkening back to the pre-Civil War South – no other such map songs survive. But re-examining the Drinking Gourd song as history rather than folklore raises many questions.

No matter the history, my favorite version was sung by folk singer Richie Havens, which he recorded in 1991.


 

I’m closing this week’s installment with a tribute to the escape to freedom led by Harriet Tubman. Actress and singer Cynthia Erivo wrote and performed “Stand Up” for the 2019 movie “Harriet.”


 

Lyrics:

I been walkin’
With my face turned to the sun
Weight on my shoulders
A bullet in my gun
Oh, I got eyes in the back of my head
Just in case I have to run
I do what I can when I can while I can for my people
While the clouds roll back and the stars fill the night

That’s when I’m gonna stand up
Take my people with me
Together we are going
To a brand new home
Far across the river
Can you hear freedom calling?
Calling me to answer
Gonna keep on keepin’ on

I can feel it in my bones

Early in the mornin’
Before the sun begins to shine
We’re gonna start movin’
Towards that separating line
I’m wadin’ through muddy waters
You know I got a made up mind
And I don’t mind if I lose any blood on the way to salvation
And I’ll fight with the strength that I got until I die

So I’m gonna stand up
Take my people with me
Together we are going
To a brand new home
Far across the river
Can you hear freedom calling?
Calling me to answer
Gonna keep on keepin’ on

And I know what’s around the bend
Might be hard to face ’cause I’m alone
And I just might fail
But Lord knows I tried
Sure as stars fill up the sky

Stand up
Take my people with me
Together we are going
To a brand new home
Far across the river
Can you hear freedom calling?
Calling me to answer
Gonna keep on keepin’ on

I’m gonna stand up
Take my people with me
Together we are going
To a brand new home
Far across the river
Do you hear freedom calling?
Calling me to answer
Gonna keep on keepin’ on

I’m gonna stand up
Take my people with me
Together we are going
To a brand new home
Far across the river
I hear freedom calling
Calling me to answer
Gonna keep on keepin’ on

I can feel it in my bones

I go to prepare a place for you
I go to prepare a place for you
I go to prepare a place for you
I go to prepare a place for you

This song evokes strong feelings in me personally: It reminds me of my mom’s great aunt Sally, who escaped from enslavement in Loudoun County, Virginia, at age 15, walking all the way to freedom and “a brand new home” in Canada.

Please join me in the comments for more music, and as always, I hope you will post songs that helped you learn the stories of enslavement.

We'll get straight to the point: The financial hardships that Daily Kos is facing this year are tough.

We continue to be paywall-free. We continue to be supported by our readers, not billionaires or corporations. But we need to bring in more revenue. We are leaning on our community more than ever to help make ends meet.

$
OR
Donate with

Was this story worth reading?

Recommending and sharing stories helps us decide which stories are most important to show our readers.

30
Share:





Conversation

|

All comments are subject to our Community Guidelines. The views expressed in comments are those of the individual authors and don't necessarily reflect the views of Daily Kos.

All Comments

  1. Comment by NicktheGolfer.

    One reason that I don't accept everything in the bible is that the bible says slavery is ok. Really???

  2. Comment by denig.

    Thank you! Powerful diary.

  3. Comment by The Lone Apple.

    Miss you, Denise. The memory of the world remembers those who do good.

Trending Conversations

 

Sunday, August 9, 2026

Funk music is as unapologetically Black as the musicians who pioneered it

Funk music is as unapologetically Black as the musicians who pioneered it

https://www.dailykos.com/stories/2026/8/9/800081314/series/funk-music-is-as-unapologetically-black-as-the-musicians-who-pioneered-it/ 

Funk music is as unapologetically Black as the musicians who pioneered it

George Clinton performs during the 54th annual Songwriters Hall of Fame induction and awards gala on Thursday, June 12, 2025, at the Marriott Marquis Hotel in New York.
George Clinton performs during the 54th annual Songwriters Hall of Fame induction and awards gala on Thursday, June 12, 2025, at the Marriott Marquis Hotel in New York.AP original

Legendary activist and longtime Daily Kos contributor Denise Oliver Velez sadly passed away on July 15. She left us with an astounding collection of stories dedicated to celebrating Black music. Daily Kos hopes to honor her memory by continuing to share these timeless pieces.

This story originally ran July 26, 2020.


At a time when some folks still don’t think Black lives matter, and respond to any assertion that they do with deflections and denialist “All Lives Matter” reactions, I’m reminded of when James Brown’s “I’m Black and I’m Proud” became an anthem and the genre of music we now know as “funk” was born. We, as a people, no longer had to hide Blackness behind white acceptability; we could express Black sensibilities without apology. A lot the Black pride and assertiveness you see today is rooted in that ‘60s and ‘70s era, that wave of funk rhythms and back beats.

Funk was—and still is—unapologetically and unabashedly Black. Out of its birth, rooted in times of trouble and strife, came many musical styles that would borrow from it and follow in the ensuing decades, like hip-hop and rap. However, none of them can match the sheer pounding groove and rhythms of the driving bass lines that got us up and “offa our feet,” dancing and marching. Those bass lines are so potent, it is the most sampled rhythm in today’s hip-hop and rap.

Funk changed Black attitudes and Black styles, shaping many of the parents of the young folks who have hit the streets in today’s protests.

Get ready for the funk.

This is not gonna be an installment of my Sunday music series that you can play softly. I double dare you to stay still in your seat. Be prepared to move. If your neighbors are still sleepin’, better grab your headset.

I’m dedicating today’s story to Funkmaster George Clinton, who celebrated his 79th birthday on July 22, and who also claims roots in a uniquely Black style of music I’ve recently explored. [Editor’s note: George Clinton celebrated his 85th birthday in 2026.] His website offers more insight into his remarkable career.

Recording both as Parliament and Funkadelic, George Clinton revolutionized R&B during the ’70s, twisting soul music into funk by adding influences from several late-’60s acid heroes: Jimi Hendrix, Frank Zappa, and Sly Stone. The Parliament/Funkadelic machine ruled black music during the ’70s, capturing over 40 R&B hit singles (including three number ones) and recording three platinum albums.

Born in Kannapolis, NC, on July 22, 1941, Clinton became interested in Doo-wop while living in New Jersey during the early ’50s. . Basing his group on Frankie Lymon & the Teenagers, Clinton formed The Parliaments in 1955, rehearsing in the back room of a Plainfield barbershop where he straightened hair. The Parliaments released only two singles during the next ten years, but frequent trips to Detroit during the mid-’60s – where Clinton began working as a songwriter and producer – eventually paid off their investment…

In reviewing Clinton’s illustrious career and success as a producer / writer/ performer, perhaps his greatest achievement stemmed from his relentless dedication to funk as a musical form. Funk as a musical style had been around for what seems like forever, deeply rooted in the music traditions of New Orleans and the Blues of the Deep South. Following the lead – and commercial success – of James Brown and Sly Stone, Clinton took Funk to new heights, blending elements of Jazz, Rock, Pop, Classical and even Gospel into his productions, eventually developing a unique and easily identifiable style affectionately called “P-Funk.” Clinton’s inspiration, dedication and determination resulted in the elevation of “funk” music to complete recognition and acceptance as a true genre in and of itself.

Birthday wishes poured in for Clinton on Twitter.

Clinton may be 79, but his music (and unique sartorial style) are still reaching younger generations of funk fans.

The Detroit Academy of Arts & Sciences Choir paid tribute to the funk in “One Nation under a Groove” late in 2019, and garnered a shout-out from Clinton himself.

The video is also a love letter to Detroit. 


 

For those of you who are not funkaholics (yet), a good starting place for some funk history is the BBC. The network has produced two excellent documentaries on funk. The first was 2006’s George Clinton – Tales of Dr. Funkenstein, directed by Don Letts. It features interviews with the Doctor himself, as well as musicians with careers spanning decades.


 

The BBC delivered another funk documentary, produced in 2017 by James Hale. The Story of Funk: One Nation Under a Groove digs into the genre writ large as well as its lasting influence. It includes interviews with Clinton; Sly & the Family Stone; Earth, Wind & Fire; Kool & the Gang; War; Cameo; Ray Parker Jr.; and trombonist Fred Wesley.


 

I have some quibbles with this documentary, simply because I thought there was too much focus on Earth, Wind & Fire and not enough on those groups who were more hardcore funk. Don’t get me wrong, I’m an avid EWF fan; however, their catalog of hits range from R&B to disco to pop; meanwhile, other funk groups like The Gap Band barely garner a mention. Though Hale interviews Harold Ray Brown, one of the founders of War, I just would have loved to hear more. 

Independent Lens released Parliament Funkadelic: One Nation Under a Groove in 2005.

What set P-Funk apart from other bands? In the music industry, George Clinton was known as much for his innovative business practices as for his music. Ultimately, Clinton morphed his core band members into multiple groups on multiple record labels, something no one had ever done. The band also created an alternate reality in which young P-Funk fans, especially African American males, could imagine themselves. George Clinton developed a mythology about “brothers” from another planet who came to liberate earth from the restrictions of Puritanical morality. It was a concept that allowed P-Funk’s fans to transcend the confines of their neighborhood and imagine themselves as citizens of a much larger universe.

Throughout discussions of funk, including in the aforementioned documentaries, you will hear people talk about being “on the one,” which is a beat. You don’t have to be a musician to get a basic understanding of just what the heck “the one” is, or why it’s the funk foundation.

Here’s Bootsy Collins to demonstrate this key ingredient in the “funk formula.”



Both of the BBC documentaries explore the spark set off by James Brown, whose “Cold Sweat,” co-authored with Pee Wee Ellis in 1967, is most often dubbed the first funk tune. 


 

The West Coast influence of Sly and the Family Stone cannot be ignored; their epic “Dance to the Music” is in the GRAMMY™ Hall of Fame.


 

Switching back to “P-Funk,” as the combo of George Clinton’s Parliament-Funkadelic is lovingly called, I spent about nine years of my life living in Washington, D.C., which—pre-gentrification—was dubbed “Chocolate City” (with vanilla suburbs). It was in Washington that I got “funkified.”

P-Funk fans were everywhere—including Chocolate City.


 

Check out these “Chocolate City” lyrics for unapologetic Blackness, P-Funk style.

Uh, what’s happenin’, CC?
They still call it the White House, but that’s a temporary condition too
Can you dig it, CC?
To each his reach and if I don’t cop it ain’t mine to have
But I’ll be reachin’ for you ’cause I love you, CC
Right on
There’s a lot of chocolate cities around
We got Newark, we got Gary
Somebody told me we got LA
And we workin’ on Atlanta
But you’re the capital
Gainin’ on ya

Interestingly enough the theme of this song has been the subject of academic discourse in Black- and POC-majority spaces. In Chocolate Cities: The Black Map of American Lifeauthors Marcus Anthony Hunter and Zandria F. Robinson explore Afro-futurist visions. 

“We didn’t get our forty acres and a mule, but we got you, C[hocolate] C[ity]!”— George Clinton on the title track of Parliament Funkadelic’s 1975 Chocolate City album 

Bookcover:Chocolate Cities The Black Map of American Life by Marcus Anthony Hunter (Author), Zandria F. Robinson (Author)
 University of California PressUniversity of California Press

Rather than wait for unfulfilled political promises, Black Americans were occupying urban and previously White space in massive numbers, their movement and increasing political power embodied on the track by multiple yet complementary melodies. Bass and piano take turns keeping the beat and beginning new melodies, saxophones speak, a synthesizer marks a new era, and a steady high hat ensures the funk stays in rhythm. The Parliament, its own kind of funky democratic government, chants “gainin’ on ya!” as Clinton announces the cities that Black Americans have turned or will soon turn into “CC’s”: Newark, Gary, Los Angeles, Atlanta, and New York. Parliament’s “Mothership Connection” public-service announcement is broadcast live from the capitol, in the capital of chocolate cities, Washington, DC, where “they still call it the White House, but that’s a temporary condition.”

Spurred on by postwar suburbanization, by 1975 the chocolate city and its concomitant “vanilla suburbs” were a familiar racialized organization of space and place. The triumphant takeover tenor of Chocolate City may seem paradoxical in retrospect, as Black people inherited neglected space, were systematically denied resources afforded to Whites, and were entering an era of mass incarceration. Still, for Parliament, like for many other Black Americans, chocolate cities were a form of reparations and were and had been an opportunity to make something out of nothing. For generations these chocolate cities—Black neighborhoods, places on the other side of the tracks, the bottoms—had been the primary locations of the freedom struggle, the sights and sounds of Black art and Black oppression, and the container for the combined ingredients of pain, play, pleasure, and protest that comprise the Black experience.

It only seems right that the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History & Culture (NMAAHC) in Chocolate City became the proud home of George Clinton’s iconic stage prop, the Mothership.


 

The Mothership landed at the museum in 2011.

It’ll be somewhat of a homecoming. The group first formed as the Parliaments in Plainfield, New Jersey in the late 1950’s, but after morphing into a two-group collective — Parliament and Funkadelic — it would go on to enjoy one of its most loyal followings in Washington. Parliament’s 1975 album “Chocolate City” gave the nation’s capital an unofficial nickname that still sticks today.

When the band lowered the Mothership from the rafters of the Capital Centre in Landover in 1977, the response was rapturous. Not only was it instantly stunning — it felt like a cosmic metaphor for the sense of possibility that followed the civil rights movement.

That symbolism isn’t lost on the Smithsonian.

“With large iconic objects like this, we can tap into . . . themes of movement and liberation that are a constant in African-American culture,” says Dwandalyn R. Reece, curator of music and performing arts for the museum. “The Mothership as this mode of transport really fits into this musical trope in African American culture about travel and transit.”

The Mothership’s current home is worth a visit.

I don’t know how many times I’ve watched this clip from the October 1976 P-Funk concert at the Summit in Houston and thrilled to the entrance of the Mothership. Wait for it … and then wait some more.


 

Funk performances on film have never achieved the fame of concert films like Woodstock; however, the sheer exuberant Blackness of the 1972 Wattstax concert had me hooked from the first time I saw it.

“Originally it was going to be called ‘Woodstax,’ ” said Rob Bowman, a Toronto-based author of “Soulsville, USA,” a history of Stax Records. “Thank God it wasn’t.” Bowman noted that although admission was originally going to be free, “for various contractual reasons they couldn’t do that. So tickets were $1 apiece. They still gave away $30,000 in tickets to kids and people who couldn’t afford them.” The earnings from tickets, about $73,000, went to the charitable organizations associated with the Watts Summer Fest.

Throughout the hot August day of Wattstax, music fans danced, sang and celebrated in relative tranquility, while an all-black and unarmed security force stood watch. “This was the largest single gathering of African-American people outside of a religious or civil rights function,” Bowman said. “It was very much a statement. ‘We don’t need the white police. The community can maintain itself, even 100,000 people, without guns.’ “

Watch the concertgoers jump from the stands to come down and dance the Funky Chicken.


 

You can watch the entire Wattstax film on YouTube.

Lest I ignore the distaff side of funk history, I want to give a shout out to Chaka Khan, the Black female lead singer with a mixed-race funk band, Rufus, who has been dubbed “the Queen of Funk.”

Chaka Khan grew up as Yvette Marie Stephens in Chicago’s Hyde Park area, at the peak of the Civil Rights movement. At 16, she moved out and became a Black Panther, providing aid to Chicago’s youth through the organization’s free breakfast initiative. Chicago, and the rest of the country was afflicted by segregation, which rendered upward mobility institutionally impossible for most black Americans. Like many before her in the Black Power movement, she rejected her given name as a form of defiance against normative white society. She was Chaka Adunne Aduffe Yemoja Hodarhi Karifi—or simply Chaka, which meant “woman of fire,” according to the Yoruba priest who named her. As Rufus’s leading lady, she was pushing the boundaries of the spaces she could occupy. “I was a black chick with a white band and I could do that,” she said in a 2008 interview with The Guardian. “It was powerful.”

As a former Panther myself, a devotee of Yemoja/Yemaya, and a diasporic Orisha worship practitioner, I’ve been following Chaka Khan’s music from its beginning.


 

So, tell me something that you like … yeah. I could sit here all day listing funk bands and favorite tunes, but I’ll save those for the comments section. I hope you’ll share yours too. As we move into the heat of August, we’ll meld funk to jazz in a heady brew.

As always, don’t forget to get up offa that thang and boogie on down to the mailbox or the polls—and vote.

We'll get straight to the point: The financial hardships that Daily Kos is facing this year are tough.

We continue to be paywall-free. We continue to be supported by our readers, not billionaires or corporations. But we need to bring in more revenue. We are leaning on our community more than ever to help make ends meet.

$
OR
Donate with

Was this story worth reading?

Recommending and sharing stories helps us decide which stories are most important to show our readers.

23
Share:





Conversation

|

All comments are subject to our Community Guidelines. The views expressed in comments are those of the individual authors and don't necessarily reflect the views of Daily Kos.

All Comments

  1. Comment by Grabber by the Heel.

    Great idea.

    Keep posting Denise and her gifts to us.

    I skimmed too many of these diaries and am grateful for a chance to dig in again.

  2. Comment by UhDave.

    Not really my thing but I did like their brief appearance in the movie PCU.

  3. Comment by Satya1.

    We miss you Denise.

    Folks near Chicago will want to check out the art exhibit of some of George Clinton's work, on display for the next ~4 weeks at a terrific west side gallery on Paulina. A model of the Mothership is also there. A recent interview of George Clinton with details on the exhibit is here:

    https://chicago.suntimes.com/arts-and-culture/2026/07/27/george-clinton-mariane-ibrahim-gallery-mothership-exhibition

    model of the Mothership at Mariane Ibrahim Gallery through Sept. 5
  4. Comment by Paoli Graveyard.

    Get the funk outta my face

  5. Comment by PHScott.

    I didn’t make it into downtown Tallahassee but I heard PFunk had a great birthday party show w George. Good to know the music lives…

  6. Comment by Whatsnuts.

    Make my funk the P funk. I wants to get funked up!

  7. Comment by bopamole.

    Thank you for this. Still loving Denise and her special ways of bringing the funk to us, in many ways.

  8. Comment by poetry2016.

    Good Sunday morning to all!

  9. Comment by MacHAM.

    To me there are things that are like gems, they glitter and you are aware of your attraction to them. Certain books, certain songs, certain people. Sometimes hard to explain, but it just is.

    Parliament was a gem in my pocket in High School. I shared this with one other, my g/f, who introduced me to P-funk.

  10. Comment by De veritas.

    I remember funk coming out and thinking it was catchy and interesting. I see that Denise is listed as "contributor". I usually see "community" or "staff", how many people are in "contributor", how is it defined?

  11. Comment by RtRhead.

    That I am still following Denise is a great gift KOS. Thank you for that. Funk was my connection to her. You looking for the bridge? There it is.

    Funk begins on the first beat. The Alpha. "The One". And the best thing about it is that it can't even try to be sad. It stomps out the sad like a bug. It really is from on high. Don't think. Don't speak. Close your eyes and let your body take over.

    Kind of a drag I haven't figure out how to paste a video in the new format, but I'll get off my ass one of these days.

    "...when you finely break it on down...it's the pride."

    Isley Brothers - The Pride

  12. Comment by B.

    Sweet Denise, I miss you so

Trending Conversations