As
a white kid raised in the suburbs, I knew little of the fertile world of black
music. As soul music sprang out of the segregated south and industrialized
north, I was content to listen to my parents' Ray Conniff albums. Imagine my
surprise as a young adult on first hearing Motown, Otis Redding, Aretha Franklin,
James Brown, the Ohio Players, or Prince. Even the rock and pop that permeated
my youth didn't prepare me for the unabashed lust, primal joy, or seething
anger that soul music and rhythm & blues (and later funk, disco, rap, and
hip hop) offered up so freely.
Soul music differed from the vocal groups and black rock of the 50's. Blackness
back then was toned down, caricatured, or even hidden (ever wonder why so many
old "race records" didn't have the artist's picture on the cover?).
But soul music never poked fun at or tried to hide its origins. It was black
and proud, and it said it loud. It helped me understand the rest of America,
and you could dance to it! Know what I mean? Rap with me, my brother! Drop me a line...
Randy Anthony
The Rhythm & Blues Bookshelf
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