Blonde Hair/Black Roots

2009-06-26
By Kevin Gibbs

Several years ago, when I would DJ parties, I learned an expression to describe particular types of singers. House DJs began calling white artists performing traditional R&B or music associated with the Black American experience, “Soul Boys.”  To call an artist a “Soul Boy,” however, was really quite a distinction and these cats did not hand the title out frivolously.  It was a nod to the emotionally charged compositions that their parents listened to and to sincere attempts to emulate the music they loved. This was Soul Music – long forgotten by so many. Yet today, we are witnessing a reincarnation of the Soul Boy and it could not have come at a better time.

“Soul Boy” music has “real” vocals enveloped by live instrumentation performed by singers with an apparent understanding of cadence and pitch.  Most importantly, though, is the ability to move a heart or body without making it look too difficult.  With a few notable exceptions, musicians, of every hue, seemed to have abandoned Soul.  Raphael Saadiq, Angie Stone, Deangelo, Joe, Mary J. Blige, Chico DeBarge, Anthony Hamilton, Jaheim, Mayer Hawthorne, and (if you listen closely) Bobby V, Sparkle, and Teedra Moses lead a handful of others as guardians of the tradition.  Soul, as it was known, transformed into modern versions of itself perfected by several artists who had the vocal credentials to keep the original take alive. 

The U.S. has a long history of white musicians who embraced music traditionally performed by Black. The soul genre, from its birth in doo-wop groups of the ‘50s to its ‘70s heyday to today’s scene has had some great practitioners.  From The Skyliners and Janis Joplin to Boz Scaggs, Bobby Caldwell, Hall & Oates, Teena Marie, and Taylor Dane to Robin Thicke, Christina Aguilera, Justin Timberlake, and Jon B, many White American singers have remained committed to soul music or at least to what we have come to call R&B.

There is one group that seemed to hold fast many of the novel sensibilities of Soul music.  With pioneers like Van Morrison and Dusty Springfield, soul-voiced rockers like Robert Palmer, George Michael, and “Fame” era David Bowie, Barry White devotees like Lisa Stansfield and Simply Red’s  Mick Hucknall, legendary soul-popster Tom Jones, one-hit-wonders like Rick Astley and ABC, and big voices like Annie Lennox and Barry Gibb demonstrating an affinity for the music of American Black folk, the British, not surprisingly, dominate this current movement. 

The ladies from across the pond especially,  young, man-tired, white girls with voices that evoke memories of some of the greatest voices we’ve known, have crowded the genre.  It seemed that all a young bloke needed to do to turn a fair-skinned singer-songwriter into a soul-voiced power-house was to break her heart or otherwise piss her off.  From this roadmap, great CDs have been crafted by Adele, Duffy, Joss Stone, Lilly Allen, and the ridiculously talented (and chemically challenged) Amy Winehouse.

All these artists seem to all draw lines back to jazz and soulful greats like Dinah Washington, Roberta Flack, Etta James, Esther Phillips, Shirley Brown, Aretha, Mavis Staples, and (dare I say her name?) Sarah Vaughn.  Songs like Winehouse’s “Love Is A Losing Game,” and “Tears Dry On Their Own,” Duffy’s “Mercy” and “Warwick Avenue,” Joss Stone’s “Bruised But Not Broken” are reminiscent of some of the greatest songs of the soul era at its peak. 

The voices are one thing but the instrumentation, too has played a great role in the renewed popularity of this “new” soul music. Juxtaposed against modern instrumentation, AutoTune and drum machines, it sounds new.  Producers Mark Ronson’s and Salaam Remi’s work with Winehouse is now officially legendary.   The end-product has been well received: Critics applaud it, record companies sign it, ordinary people and nostalgia music junkies are eating it up.

These white soul stars are getting a big light shined on their work because it’s good.   Another reason, of course, is that these artists are white.  Predictably (and appropriately), there are some cries of foul.  Black Brit singer, Estelle, famously made her feelings clear saying that artists like Adele, are “Not really soul music singers” and that “She sounds like she heard some Aretha records once [but] that don't mean she's soul."  Estelle admits “I get what they do [musically]” but “As black person, I'm like: you're telling me this is my music?” “….the media [is telling us] what soul music is and I'm like, we know what soul music is…”

The interest these artists are generating, however, is not based entirely on the idea that they are white singers doing a “black” thing.  There is obviously some novelty in seeing white artists compete the way these new soulsters are.   The fact is, the music they are putting out sounds fresh and new when mixed into the current musical landscape.  Listeners are responding to a void that the youngest among them didn’t even know existed.  It would help Estelle’s argument and any other artists that share her sentiments, to make more Soul records.  She certainly has the chops to do so. 

Most importantly, nobody holds purchase over any genre of music.  If that were the case, Living Colour, Fishbone, Leontyne Price, Lenny Kravitz, Charlie Pride, and so many others should have never climbed the stage. 

Perhaps this new “British wave” will inspire more artists.  A new project from Mayer Hawthorne is in the making. Raphael Saadiq released a fantastic tribute to the original sensibilities of soul music, and somewhere there is a kid with a guitar in her hand, dusting off old 45s with names on them like Marvin, Gladys, Dusty, and Curtis.  She is going to listen to these old classics and maybe (just maybe), be inspired to pick up the torch - or the gauntlet.

 

Kevin “Chico” Gibbs is a musicologist and vice president at Def Jam Records.