Homage to Black American Music Tradition: Part of the Secret to Elvis' Success
| By AMIR SAID (SA'ID) |
For the better part of the last 15 years, I've encountered people who either adore Elvis or hate him. This has always struck me as an odd scheme of understanding. I mean, how and why can one individual cause so much polarization? Of course, you never hear anyone say (publicly at least) that they hate The Beatles. And at last count, Michael Jackson's album, Thriller, still seems to draw favorable consensus. So what is it about Elvis that causes such disdain, especially among purveyors of hip hop/rap music?
Maybe it's because Chuck D declared him a racist two decades ago; remember the Public Enemy song "Fight the Power," where he Chuck D rhymes: "Elvis was a hero to most/But he never meant shit to me you see Straight up racist that sucker was
Simple and plain..." Or perhaps the disdain for Elvis by some in hip hop/rap stems from the misperception of Elvis as some sort of "culture vulture," who stole his sound from black American musicians in the Mississippi Delta. Wrong! That's a bogus argument even on the face of it. Less one forgets (or doesn't know), Elvis is from the Mississippi Delta. Therefore, he has as much a native claim to any and all musical developments that occurred there as anyone else who was born and raised in the region. Moreover, it's been widely reported that the teenage Elvis spent considerable amounts of time taking in the blues scene of Memphis' Beale Street. Add to that the fact that he grew up listening to the regional radio stations like Memphis' WDIA, the nation's first radio station to feature an all-black format and on-air staff (1949). (Stations like WDIA played what was then known as "race records.") So by all serious accounts, it's rather obvious what Elvis' early musical influences were: blues, gospel, rhythm and blues, and rockabilly—all components of the Black American music tradition. Moreover, these early musical influences from the Black American Music Tradition were largely a part of Elvis' success.
Thus, when hip hop/rap aficionados (or any other groups) reject Elvis, they are actually rejecting a musical icon who earned his stripes through the serious study of the musical tradition that laid the foundation for all American popular music in the twentieth century. Moreover, those who reject Elvis's musical validity, also, in effect, turn their backs on the musical scholarship that he provides. For less we forget: Every musical artist is a gateway to others...and the more critically acclaimed the artist is, the more enriched the gateway is.
By listening to and studying Elvis, I was prompted to listen to and study Big Joe Turner, the iconic bluesman who helped create the template for rock and roll (rock n' roll). Perhaps I would have studied Big Joe Turner even if I didn't take a more serious look at Elvis. But listening to Elvis' earlier work prompted me to A/B his style with Big Joe Turner. MusicStudy of this nature has been and is incredibly important to understanding of all music, not just hip hop/rap music.
Certainly Elvis doesn't need any marketing help; you don't get much higher than him in the scheme of American pop culture. And there's certainly not doubt that his career benefited tremendously from the fact that he was white; many of the Black artists that influenced him could never access the platform that he was afforded. But Elvis, who I at one time refused to listen to (for whatever reasons), does represent the complexity and beauty of how music traditions and cultures can, at times, transcend negative racial attitudes. But all of this aside, 'What can his music teach or do for me,' I once asked myself. Well, it taught me a lot and it did more for me than I could have imagined. Ironically, or perhaps not, through an honest study of Elvis, I discovered Sister Rosetta Tharpe; became more interested in Big Joe Turner and B.B. King; and I meticulously traced the business roots of rock n' roll.
Bottom line:
If you're going to contribute to any music tradition or culture, if you're going to go after a career in music, the more musical understanding that you can draw from, the more enriched your music will be, and, subsequently, the better your chances at having a career in music.
The music and videos below are presented here for the purpose of scholarship.
Elvis Presley - "Shake, Rattle and Roll" (Elvis' first televised appearance.)
Note. "Shake, Rattle and Roll" was originally recorded by the bluesman, Big Joe Turner.
Big Joe Turner - "Shake, Rattle and Roll"
The original recording of "Shake, Rattle and Roll."
Elvis Presley - "Heartbreak Hotel"
The song below is unmistakably blues.
Sister Rosetta Tharpe - "Didn't Rain"
Sister Rosetta Tharpe had a seminal influence on Elvis.
Elvis Presley - "A Little Less Conversation"
Although it's from Elvis' later catalog, it's my favorite Elvis recording. If you know Mack Davis (singer-songwriter), you can hear him in the lyrics. Also, peep the drumwork at the intro of the song!








James Brown, Papa's Got a Brand New Bag (1965)
James Brown, Say It Loud - I'm Black and I'm Proud (1968)
The Meters, The Meters (1969)
Led Zeppelin, Led Zeppelin (1969)
Led Zeppelin, Led Zeppelin II (1969)
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis (1970)
Led Zeppelin, Led Zeppelin III (1970)
Led Zeppelin, Led Zeppelin IV (1971)
Aretha Franklin, Young, Gifted and Black (1972)
The Jimmy Castor Bunch, It's Just Begun (1972)
Harold Melvin & The Blue Notes, I Miss You (1972)
Led Zeppelin, Houses of the Holy (1973)
Stevie Wonder, Innervisions (1973)
The Beat (aka The English Beat), I Just Can't Stop It (1980)
The Beat (aka The English Beat), Wha'ppen (1981)
The Beat (aka The English Beat), Special Beat Service (1981)
LL Cool J, Radio (1985)
Marley Marl, In Control (1988)
Main Source, Breaking Atoms (1990)
Gang Starr, Step in the Arena (1991)
Dr. Dre, The Chronic (1992)
Nas, Illmatic (1994)
50 Cent, Get Rich or Die Tryin' (2003)
Considering the approaches that some new beatmakers are increasingly taking to hip hop/rap music and beatmaking, specifically, the approach to beatmaking through the guise of other music traditions, I can't help but be reminded of the brilliance and genius of Led Zeppelin. Instead of trying to change the blues to fit rock 'n' roll, Led Zeppelin used the blues as their core musical influence to formulate their own sound—a sound that helped to usher in a new dimension in rock 'n' roll in the late 1960s/early 1970s. In Led Zeppelin's musical example, I find a good lesson for beatmakers, particularly those who attempt to interpret hip hop/rap music and beatmaking not from its own perspective and on its own foundation but from the perspective and foundation of other music traditions.
Skill. If you’re bold enough to set out on that journey of writing rhymes, then it’s damn well something you better have. But how do you get it? When it comes to rhyme, the typical thing to do is study the rhyme-greats of the hip hop/rap tradition.
Modern rhyme lexicon aside, nothing taught me more about how to rhyme than O.C. Smith’s rap (lyrics by Gordon Parks) on “Blowin’ Your Mind.” Smith, an acclaimed vocalist with a background in jazz, does more high-level rapping than singing on “Blowin’ Your Mind.” First, there’s the natural adlib before he begins the first verse. After the instrumental has cooked, twisted, turned, and rattled for 1 minute and 24 seconds, and after the horn section does a 4-second staccato crescendo, Smith slides in abruptly-smooth with the command, “Now, look here…,” before he begins a rhyme that doesn’t focuses on rhyme itself:
It was upon listening to “Blowin’ Your Mind” that I made my most important discovery about the art of rhyme: Rhyming is about the rhythm of words and their relationship to the rhythm of the instrumental; that words rhyme cleanly, or even at all, is a secondary notion. This single thought, that rhyming, particularly at its highest level, is about the negotiation of two rhythms—that which the rapper brings and that of the instrumental—and words that mean what they say, gave me the basis for the rhyme skill I always sought. Not only did it give me a deeper understanding of how to master the various tropes and nuances of modern rhyme (1985-to the present), it helped me figure out everything from how to develop my own breath control techniques to how to identify those word frameworks that work best with my style and voice.
With regards to sampling, no statement is more misguided (and irritating to me) than someone saying, "It's just a loop." Whether sampling and then looping a 2- or 4-bar phrase of music, or piecing together spare-part phrases and sound-stabs, there's much more going on in the total creative process than some beatmakers care to acknowledge—or that some hip hop/rap bloggers even realize.
One of the things that makes digging for "new" music so exhilarating and rewarding is the fact that you never know exactly what you're going to discover. Even if you're searching within a specific genre of music, the sheer number of recordings that may exist is staggering. And when it comes to funk music—particularly early funk, ca. 1965-1974—, the recorded output of music runs deep. A fact that's further made even more impressive when you consider the number obscure and lesser-known early funk bands who made only a few recordings during that time.
Before Sting became a one-man mega star (in the 80s), he was the front-man and bassist for the group, The Police. The Police where an English outfit who specialized in an uptempo rock-reggae that mostly side-stepped the British ska sound of their time. Originally a punk inspired band, The Police moved towards the new wave sound, before settling on a minimalist rock-reggae hybrid that was decidedly pop (the good kind).
The collective musicianship of The Police was great, but most of my attention went to drummer Stewart Copeland. Copeland's default drum style was rooted in the reggae style, a rhythmic style characterized by accents on the off-beat. Specifically, Copeland road the "steppers" beat sub-style (itself a variation of "four on the floor"), but he was also clearly influenced by other worldly sounds and rhythms. This was perhaps one of the main reasons that he drummed on an expanded kit. I remember the first time I saw his set in a video, I couldn't believe how many mini-toms and percussion pieces it contained.
I have long maintained that the beatmaking community/culture shares a number of similarities to the jazz community of the 1940s, 50s, and 60s. Both communities/cultures were comprised of what I like to call "anonymous heroes," acclaimed musicians not necessarily known by the general public or even the broader musical scene, yet fervently respected among their peers. Another parallel that I also like to draw between the jazz and beatmaking communities deals with the appreciation of the music itself. 







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