Subscribe to The Big Issue
Take a print or digital subscription to The Big Issue and provide a critical lifeline to our work.
I envy the catharsis that skilled composers like Kinch must find through their work; a way to process their own confusion and anger while also offering comfort and perspective to those listening. Not only that, Kinch has created something that can help us chart the emotional impact on humanity. Music helps us to comprehend the past, far beyond quantified facts and figures.
The story of the Civil Rights Movement, for example, can be entirely plotted in visceral detail though music.
Charles Mingus found his own catharsis in 1959 – specifically a way to channel his rage towards Orval Faubus, then the governor of Arkansas. During what became known as ‘the Little Rock Crisis’ in 1957, Faubus tried to prevent nine African-American children from attending the racially segregated Little Rock Central High School.
Support The Big Issue
Each of our vendors buy their copies of the mag for £1.50 each, selling them for £3 and keeping the difference. Visit our interactive map to find your nearest vendor.
Fables of Faubus found its way onto Mingus Ah Um, widely regarded as one of Mingus’s finest albums, but the lyrics were so vicious and direct that Columbia Records would only include the track as an instrumental. The vocal version came later, calling out Faubus as sick, ridiculous and a “Nazi fascist supremist”.
Nina Simone has left behind a sprawling legacy of music reflecting African-American trauma, redefining herself as a creator of ‘Civil Rights Movement music’, with songs like 1964’s Mississippi Goddam, about the racially motivated murders of Emmett Till and Medgar Evers, and Backlash Blues, with the forthright accusation “You raise my taxes, freeze my wages and send my son to Vietnam”.
Prior to that and perhaps most notably, in 1939, Billie Holiday recorded Strange Fruit, the vivid lyrics and her mournful tone confronting us with the unmitigated horror of racist lynchings in the American south. A three-minute song more lucid, more powerful in its candour than any photograph. And yet, rather than tune out or turn away, the public bought several million copies. It became a communal conduit for pain and outrage.
Many contemporary British jazz musicians have taken on a similar responsibility to broadcast brutality and inequity that they see in their everyday lives.
I wrote earlier this year about Sons of Kemet’s striking LP Black to the Future, focusing attention on the experience of being black in modern Britain.
Soweto Kinch, with White Juju, has given us a means to reflect on a global pandemic and the discomfort of discovering that our world is a very fragile place.
Anne Frankenstein is a broadcaster on Jazz FM
This article is taken from The Big Issue magazine. If you cannot reach local your vendor, you can still click HERE to subscribe to The Big Issue today or give a gift subscription to a friend or family member. You can also purchase one-off issues from The Big Issue Shop or The Big Issue app, available now from the App Store or Google Play.Advertisement – Content continues below