Tag: Kam Franklin

Frankie Staton on the Impact and Successes of the Black Opry

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

(Editor’s Note: To kick off our Artist of the Month coverage for June, we asked legendary musician, songwriter, and co-founder of the Black Country Music Association, Frankie Staton, to discuss and explore the vital work of the Black Opry.

Scroll to find our Essential Black Opry Playlist below.)

Holly G wanted a safe place to not only go and hear ethnic country singers, but safe places for them to sing. 

I first met Holly G at the premiere of the CMT Giants: Charley Pride program. Shocked that I was invited to anything in Nashville, I was pleasantly surprised to see several people of color there. It was a great tribute to the life of one of country music’s finest voices. I was there with my two friends, country singers Valierie Ellis [Hawkins] and Joe West. When it was over, we were all introducing ourselves to each other. When I said, “my name is Frankie Staton,” people were saying how happy they were to meet me, and for a moment, I couldn’t understand why. If there was anyone that felt like a failure to acquire results in Nashville, it was me.

When I co-founded the Black Country Music Association in the mid-’90s I couldn’t get anyone signed. Not to a publishing contract or a developmental deal. There were a couple artists that generated some interest, but it just all fizzled out. I am proud of the effort we put in, but wish I could’ve done more. We weren’t able to get anyone on the Grand Ole Opry. Our successes were limited to performances on BCMA showcases, or if we were hired for an event. When you have a gigantic vision, and don’t have the results to match, it can be frustrating. It is wonderful to know, even in hindsight, we made some sort of impact.

I first met the collective Holly G founded, Black Opry, at the Outlaw House during AmericanaFest in 2021. It was so awesome, so therapeutic, so cool, so now. Finally! They are true songwriters, true singers and musicians with an undeniable love for what they do and a grand respect for each other. It is as if they understand that they were built for this moment.

I had a flashback to years ago when I wanted to go to Alabama’s June Jam in Fort Payne, AL. Alabama was a band that I could listen to all day. I loved their harmonies and was just nuts over the group. It would’ve probably been alright if I attended, but I didn’t ever go. Years later, I went to an Outlaw Concert at Bridgestone Arena here in downtown Nashville. The people around me thought I was nuts to want to go see Gretchen Wilson, Montgomery Gentry, Tanya Tucker, Big & Rich, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Shooter Jennings, Jesse Colter, and on and on and on.

My friends couldn’t relate to my love for these artists, despite all of the ways each of them inspired me. Gretchen Wilson, I knew her story! Besides being very talented, and a brilliant singer, I had read about her never having lived in a house without wheels. I always thought that one of the most talented and underrated women in country music was Tanya. I once saw her at Billy Bob’s in Fort Worth, and she literally tore the place apart. What an entertainer! I have respect for her journey. I had never heard anything like Montgomery Gentry, and I loved their outlaw image. I had a tremendous respect for Jessi Colter, a real trooper, with so much experience under her belt.

Although I am African American, I was deeply influenced by country and bluegrass music. Early on it was Patsy Cline, Loretta Lynn, Dolly Parton, Tammy Wynette, and Brenda Lee, along with George Jones, Merle Haggard, Don Williams, Glen Campbell, and Willie Nelson who inspired me. I made the move to Nashville in 1981. To say I was “different” is an understatement. Nevertheless, I loved the music, wrote it, and performed all over town.

I learned, however, that there were boundaries on what I could and couldn’t do. For a long time, I wondered why this was considered “American music” when so many Americans could not sing it.

Finally, in 1997, I challenged a story that was in the New York Times about the dearth of diversity in country music. The things that the label heads said in the piece about my race made my blood boil. They said we couldn’t sing country music, that they couldn’t find credible Black country singers – while they told Black artists that they “didn’t know” what to do with them. People on Music Row would tell us to “go find Charley Pride.” 

So I challenged the story. I thought, “You finally have it in print, so why not challenge the story?” I wasn’t sure how to go about it, at that point I had nothing. No Black Country Music Association. No company to promote. No foot in the door. I did it literally with just a telephone. I went to the people that I played for and asked them to sponsor musicians. I went to Jack Daniels and asked them to back me, hired studio musicians to play a show, wrote out the charts, and went to Music Row and asked the publishing houses for songs when I heard voices that were “similar” to current country stars. 

I even tried to get songs that were on hold, for seemingly 20 artists, and brought them back to Black artists to sing. It was important that we had great singers, great musicians, and great songs. I worked the press, TV, radio, print media, and just pushed and pushed. We rehearsed at the Woodshed in East Nashville. We did media classes at my house. We practiced walking on stage, holding a mic, having confidence, talking to the press, and being positive. We put together an entire showcase, to be held at an iconic Nashville venue. 

There we were, raising our voices for something we truly believed in at the Bluebird Café. No one was signed. There were a couple artists that had had development deals – but that was it. I was a single mom raising a son and a daughter, and for the space in my life, they had to be priority. 

The Black Opry was born out of a conversation Holly started online among passionate country music fans. Holly wanted people of diverse ethnicities to be able to expound on their feelings about performing country, bluegrass, folk, and all the other idioms that we were shut out of due to race.

Black Opry entertainers are confident, but humble; moving up in this world, but still grateful. And, they complement each other beautifully. Each artist waits patiently to perform their material and receives applause with such graciousness. They are kind and supportive of each other. I have been moved by the music of Jett Holden, Joy Clark, Tyler Bryant, Nikki Morgan, Aaron Vance, Julie Williams, Roberta Lea, Kam Franklin, Leon Timbro, The Kentucky Gentlemen, Samantha Rise, Danielle Johnson, Grace Givertz and so many others. 

Without a doubt, I have witnessed Black artists on the precipice of a new sunrise created by us, for us, and welcoming to all. Holly has reached out to me on several occasions to perform with Black Opry, and I have extended the invite to Valierie Ellis and Joe West, a couple of country artists of color who were here before this new exciting community of singers came along. With over 200 acts, The Black Opry has proved that we are, were, and will always be here. Now the world can see for themselves these truly gifted artists. At the first anniversary of the Black Opry in 2022, I was just stunned by the beauty of seeing them all together, excited to perform to a completely packed house at Nashville’s City Winery. 

I noticed the women performing effortlessly for a huge crowd. Being that we weren’t even considered a part of this genre, this was a surreal moment for me. The memory of Linda Martell, who charted in the Top 25 on the Billboard charts, who had all the goods, the looks, the sound, and the desire to do it, and who still did not have a real career in country music, says it all. For Ruby Falls to perform at the New Faces show for the Country Radio Seminar, but not be able to tour, says it all. Or, to hear that Warner Brothers told Valierie Ellis they didn’t know what to do with a Black female country singer and that sometimes, “people hear with their eyes,” made this anniversary celebration night a full circle moment to me. To see independent artists producing their own material, not ruled by the auspices of this city and genre, is very satisfying for my soul. So many people have been blessed by the Black Opry.

I performed with the Black Opry at Exit/In in December of 2021, when we were all afforded the opportunity to meet and perform with Allison Russell, for whom there are no adequate words to describe. From seeing all the accolades and television appearances Allison has had, crossing my fingers for her Grammy nominations, and seeing her collaborate with artists – like Brandi Carlile, the musically proficient Milwaukee-born duo, Sistastrings, and the masterful, New Orleans-born guitar virtuoso, incredible vocalist, and songwriter, Joy Clark – has been a wonderful experience for me. I also just witnessed the premiere of Roberta Lea’s new video, “If I’m Too Much of a Woman” from Times Square in New York City. She was included in the 2023 class of CMT’s Next Women of Country. My introduction to all of these artists came through the Black Opry. 

Black Opry serves as a place for artists, musicians, and songwriters to find in others what they may lack, which is so rich. This is a warm place to be yourself and not be ostracized for loving a music that did not love you back, historically. In its infancy, Black Opry is just beginning to break ground. In a city where there was major marginalization and gaslighting, Black Opry just walked through doors without stumbling, forging into the future without any apologies for being in the room. They will only build from here, and I know for a fact that there are no limitations, just the next opportunities.

There are moments that I can’t help but tear up at the memory of those who are no longer in it. Those who sacrificed so much for this music, but were severely shortchanged: Jae Mason, a brilliant singer, songwriter and guitarist, wrote about “Little Cowboys and Cowgirls of Color” when he asked his mom why he didn’t “see Black cowboys on TV.” Scott Eversoll, who sang the wonderful Troy McConnell song, “What Color Am I?” And, Wheels, an all-Black country band from Lanett, Alabama, that toured extensively in the U.S. before losing their lead singer, Chris, to a massive heart attack. Iconic would be the only word to describe these guys. 

As a person who is blessed to witness both generations, I will always feel a sense of sadness for those who are no longer in it and a profound joy and excitement for those that are right here, right now. And I will always carry the spirit of those who tried with me.

I hope you have an opportunity to see a Black Opry concert. This is a historic, unforgettable, long-overdue celebration of some long-held trade secrets – finally here for the world to witness.

Photo Credit: Gabriel Barreto

WATCH: The Suffers, “Could This Be Love”

Posted on by Editor

Artist: The Suffers
Hometown: Houston, Texas
Song: “Could This Be Love”
Album: It Starts With Love
Label: Missing Piece Records

In Their Words: “I had the idea for this video in a dream. I knew I wanted it to be a prequel to our ‘Everything Here’ music video that was released in 2018. It stars Robin Beltran and Christian Pope, who are both featured in that video, but with a far less tragic storyline. This new video was directed by Nate Edwards, and it is meant to show what it looks like to be Black, carefree, and in love. No trauma. No drama. Just love. The video was shot in and around Galveston, TX and Houston, TX. The final scenes feature shots inside one of my favorite bars of all time, Grand Prize Bar. The final shots of them in the bar leaning on one another was a dream come true, and I hope the video inspires those watching and or listening to find the love that they deserve.” — Kam Franklin, The Suffers

Photo Credit: Agave Bloom Photography. Makeup by Amore Monet, Styled by Michele Kruschik, Set Design by Kam Franklin. L-R: Juliet Terrill, Kevin Bernier, Jose “Chapy” Luna, Michael Razo, Kam Franklin, Jon Durbin, Nick Zamora

BGS Celebrates Black History Month (Part 2 of 2)

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

We invite our readers to celebrate Black History Month as we always do, by denoting that celebrating Black contributions in bluegrass, country, and old-time — and roots music as a whole — requires centering Black creators, artists, musicians, and perspectives in our community daily, not just in February.

Over the past year we’ve recommitted ourselves to fully incorporating Black Voices into everything we do and we hope that our readers and listeners, our followers and fans, and our family of artists constantly celebrate, acknowledge, and pay credit to Blackness and Black folks, who we have to thank for everything we love about American roots music.

Following a look back on our BGS Artists of the Month, Cover Story, and Shout & Shine subjects, we close our listicle celebration of Black History Month this year with a sampling of some of the most popular features, premieres, music videos, Friends & Neighbors posts, and 5+5 interviews that have featured Black, African American, and otherwise Afro-centric music. We are so grateful for the ongoing, vital contributions of Black artists, writers, creators, and journalists to American roots music and we’re proud to pay credit exactly where it’s due, in this small way.

Black history is American roots music history and all of these incredible folks certainly prove that point.

An edition of our Roots on Screen column featured an interview with Branford Marsalis and dove into his soundtrack for the new Netflix film based on August Wilson’s 1982 play, Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom.

Bona fide soul man Jerry “Swamp Dogg” Williams took us behind the scenes of his album, Sorry You Couldn’t Make It, showing humorous, casual, candid moments from the project’s creation — and giving us all the opportunity to be there, even though we “couldn’t make it.”

Sabine McCalla simply blew us away with her Western AF video session of an original, “Baby, Please Don’t Go,” last year, and we were ecstatic to include her on the BGS Stage lineup for Cabin Fever Fest last weekend, too.

Joy Oladokun’s vision and determination, and her unrelenting trust in both, paid off on a texturally varied second album, in defense of my own happiness (vol. 1), a self-produced exercise in vulnerability and subject of a feature interview. Oladokun will perform a few of her folk-pop songs as part of our Yamaha Guitars + BGS Spotlight Showcase during Folk Alliance’s virtual Folk Unlocked conference this week, as well.

The preeminent hip-hop-meets-bluegrass band, Gangstagrass, stopped by for a 5+5 and to plug their latest, No Time for Enemies. Gangstagrass were another excellent addition to our Cabin Fever Fest lineup and we look forward to being able to catch them in-person again, soon.

To mark Juneteenth 2020, we published a thoughtful round up of new movement music, a sort of patchwork soundtrack for protest, struggle, civil rights, and progress including songs by Leon Bridges, Chastity Brown, Kam Franklin (listen above), and more.

We were ecstatic to feature Valerie June, Rhiannon Giddens & Francesco Turrisi, Ben Harper, and Yola during our five-episode virtual online variety show, Whiskey Sour Happy Hour, last spring. The show raised over $50,000 for COVID-19 relief — through MusiCares and personal protective equipment via Direct Relief. WSHH season 2? We want that to happen, too! Stay tuned.

Pianist Matt Rollings’ collaboration with Americana-soul duo The War & Treaty was — UNDERSTANDABLY — a mini viral hit, taking off on our social media channels.

Rhiannon Giddens also powerfully and captivatingly warned all of us not to call her names with a new song recently: “The framework in the song is a love affair, but it can happen in any kind of connection,” she explained in a press release. “The real story was accepting my inner strength and refusing to continue being gaslit and held back; and refusing to keep sacrificing my mental health for the sake of anything or anyone.”

We visited once again with now mononymous Kenyan songwriter, Ondara, whose pandemic album, Folk n’ Roll Vol. 1: Tales of Isolation, kept many of us company during sheltering in place.

Speaking of which, Crys Matthews and Heather Mae didn’t let guidelines around social distancing keep them down, as evidenced on “Six Feet Apart.”

Our country-soul queen, Yola, wowed all of us with a Tiny Desk (Home) Concert and some acoustic renderings of her resplendent countrypolitan songs.

As did veteran bluesman Don Bryant, who after a lifelong career writing and recording earned his first Grammy nomination in 2020 for You Make Me Feel, a record that is nothing less than a physical incarnation of rhythm and blues. His Tiny Desk (Home) Concert is entrancing.

Selwyn Birchwood rightly reminded blues fans that it isn’t all sad; in fact, if you aren’t partying to the blues you’re doing it wrong. Just listen to “I Got Drunk, Laid and Stoned” to find out.

Leigh Nash and Ruby Amanfu joined forces on a Congressman John Lewis-inspired number entitled “Good Trouble” just last week, a perfect song to mark Black History Month.

Last year, to mark Women’s History Month (coming up again in March!) we spotlighted the huge influence and contributions of Elizabeth “Libba” Cotten, a folk singer and picker famous for playing her guitar left-handed — and upside down and “backwards!” Though Cotten spent most of her adult life working as a housekeeper, her original folksongs and her idiosyncratic picking style still inspire bluegrass, old-time, and blues musicians alike.

Country singer-songwriter Miko Marks returns this year with new music for the first time in thirteen years, after effectively being shut out of Music City and its country music machine because of her Blackness. A recent single release reclaims “Hard Times,” a song composed by Stephen Foster, who was an American songbook stalwart and folk music legend who performed in minstrel shows and in blackface.

Chris Pierce challenges his listeners with a new song this month, “American Silence,” because as he puts it, “It’s important to not give up on reaching out to those who have stayed silent for too long about the issues that affect those around us all.” A timely reminder to all of us — especially those of us who are allies and accomplices — as we approach the one-year anniversary of this most recent racial reckoning in the United States.

And finally, to close this gargantuan list — which is still just the tip of the iceberg of Black music in bluegrass, country, and Americana — we’ll leave you with a relative newcomer in country-soul and Americana, Annie Mack. Mack’s gorgeous blend of genres and styles is anchored by her powerful and tender voice and we were glad to be stopped in our tracks by her debut EP, Testify. 

Editor’s Note: Read part one of our Black History Month collection here.

Photo credit (L to R): Chris Pierce by Mathieu Bitton; Elizabeth Cotten; Annie Mack by Shelly Mosman.

New Movement Music: A Black American Soundtrack of Struggle and Protest

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

For Black Americans, this day, Juneteenth, has long been a celebration of the momentous historical event of emancipation from slavery — and the nearly two and a half years it took for that news to reach all enslaved peoples in this country. Juneteenth is belatedly gaining wider recognition and arrives at a time of reckoning with systemic patterns of white supremacy, especially police brutality, that remain deeply entrenched.

Like many waves of national protest before it, the uprising in the wake of the deaths of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery, Tony McDade and many others has spurred the creation of its own soundtrack, and the following list spotlights the contributions of seven roots-savvy, Black music makers. Some draw on lessons learned from how songs gave spiritual succor to those on the front lines of the 1960s Civil Rights struggle, with righteously raised fists and declarations of passion and purpose. Others opt for expression that feels far more personalized or particular, articulating an adamantly complex range of emotions and letting profoundly unsettled, and unsettling, questions hang in the air. All of them are fleshing out their own vivid, timely incarnations of movement music.

Leon Bridges specializes in sophisticated soul, sometimes artfully retro in presentation and other times landing at the thoroughly contemporary end of that musical lineage. His new song “Sweeter” is an example of the latter, two minutes and 50 seconds during which his buttery vocals glide over a lean drum machine pattern, delicate, gospel-dusted bits of guitar, keyboard, piano and bass and Terrace Martin’s saxophone figures. Bridges’ words land with the devastated finality of a black man whose life is leaving his body, taken from him by police. “I thought we moved on from the darker days,” he sings, his cadence fluttery and tone ruminative. “Did the words of the King disappear in the air, like a butterfly?” The blame-laying next line arrives in a burst: “Somebody should hand you a felony.”

Then, Bridges elongates his phrasing with righteous indignation, before steadying himself to spell out the loss: “‘Cause you stole from me/my chance to be.” The elegance he chose gives his performance subtly striking, emotional heft. “From adolescence we are taught how to conduct ourselves when we encounter police to avoid the consequences of being racially profiled,” Bridges wrote in a statement. “I have been numb for too long, calloused when it came to the issues of police brutality. The death of George Floyd was the straw that broke the camel’s back for me. It was the first time I wept for a man I never met. I am George Floyd, my brothers are George Floyd, and my sisters are George Floyd. I cannot and will not be silent any longer. Just as Abel’s blood was crying out to God, George Floyd is crying out to me.”

Chastity Brown has been honing her ability to create space for emotional resistance within her songs for a while now. She draws on the pointed, confessional potential of folk and soul and the digital texturing techniques of contemporary pop and hip-hop, while depicting the patient pursuit and safekeeping of self-knowledge as a sign of strength — one that differs wildly from the sort of dominance modeled by systemic power.

In her new song “Golden,” created on her iPad in her garage studio and shared with the world this week, Brown sounds willfully unhurried singing over a skittery programmed beat: “I’ve got joy, even when I’m a target/If ya think that’s political, don’t get me started/You know I’m golden and I flaunt it.” That savoring of selfhood is in striking contrast to the furious question she circles around during the chorus: “Why have I got to be angry?”

In the artist notes accompanying the song, Brown explained that she began writing it when her nephew was beaten by four white cops while walking home in Harlem, mere weeks before George Floyd died in her adopted hometown. “This collective trauma that black, indigenous, immigrant, and queer/trans folk feel is real,” she spelled out. “It’s every god damn day. Yet, we still thrive and flourish in our nature beauty, we still have swag and songs for days. We still have wild and wondrous imaginations like we are all the children of Octavia [Butler]. …This is for me, my people, and the UPRISING to defund police here in Minneapolis and thereby set a new standard for how communities want to be protected.”

Shemekia Copeland, one of the brightest stars in contemporary blues, has been deliberate for years about broadening her repertoire and approach to encompass countrified styles, singer-songwriter song sources and statement-making folk and soul sensibilities and, in the process, positioning herself in the midst of roots music discourse. That’s the insightful perspective she brings to her just-released “Uncivil War,” whose string band style accompaniment boasts the contributions of Sam Bush and Jerry Douglas.

Coming from Copeland, and delivered with measured, dignified vibrato, the simple flipping of the name of the nation’s most notorious war to “uncivil” slyly strips a veneer of respectability from the racist and romanticized Lost Cause religion. She strikes a tone of weary but resolute optimism throughout. “It’s not just a song,” she clarified in a statement. “I’m trying to put the ‘united’ back in the United States. Like many people, I miss the days when we treated each other better. For me, this country’s all about people with differences coming together to be part of something we all love. That’s what really makes America beautiful.”

Kam Franklin, on her own and with her Houston horn band The Suffers, has the wide-ranging musical instincts, imagination, nerve, and ear for earthy verisimilitude to make big statements while zeroing in on small interactions. A couple of weeks back, she posted a brand new, self-recorded song fragment to SoundCloud, a platform well suited to off-the-cuff expression, and with it, this comment: “I saw a photo of Breonna Taylor with her homegirls earlier today, and it gutted me. I won’t forget her. I wrote this birthday song for her, her friends that wondered where she was before the news came out, and everyone that loved her.”

Titled “Happy Birthday Breonna,” it’s a pensive, sinuous bit of ‘70s soul that drives home the fact that Taylor was ripped from a web of close relationships. The first, and only verse, lands like a voicemail from a friend who grew worried when she couldn’t reach Taylor. Franklin’s graceful trills and softly insistent phrasing have an understatement that suggests fretful preoccupation. Then she moves into a point-counterpoint refrain, murmuring birthday wishes to Taylor in her breathy upper register and making a devastating declaration beneath: “You should be here.”

Singer-guitarist and actor Celisse Henderson began work on writing, recording, and filming a video for her song “FREEDOM” four years ago, following the slayings of Philando Castile and Alton Sterling, and watched as black deaths and protest momentum multiplied before she finally completed and released her project earlier this month.

In a message on her website, Henderson explained, “I, along with millions of people, watched video footage of these unarmed black men losing their lives in the most horrific ways. The truth that these unjust deaths revealed about our country, including the systemic failings of our criminal justice system, became my personal call-to-action. Then the 2016 election night happened, and the results added a whole new layer to the purpose of this song and project. Now, almost four years later, too little has been done, and the story remains the same. With the horrific and unjust killings of Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, and George Floyd weighing heavily on our hearts and minds, it is time to release ‘FREEDOM’ as a rallying cry and a call to action to stand up and fight for our freedom.”

Historic footage of the March on Washington that opens the clip is a reminder of the buoying role that spirituals played in the Civil Rights movement of the 1960s, and serves the narrative function of positioning Henderson to measure the too-meager progress for Black Americans since. The track is gospel-schooled and hard-rocking, powered by a thunderous, syncopated drum pattern and grinding electric guitar attack. With gospel fervor and a touch of theatrical flourish, Henderson summons a spirit of urgency and extends a broad welcome to all who are affected or disturbed by injustice.

Joy Oladokun, a Nigerian-American singer-songwriter who’s quietly carving out her place in Nashville’s professional songwriting community with introspective, melancholy warmth, steered a co-writing appointment with Natalie Hemby toward an expression of grief. The result was “Who Do I Turn To?” a naked airing of fear and distrust.

Oladokun’s reedy, plaintive performance is accompanied only by minimal piano chords. She spends the chorus adding up horrifying realizations that lead her to a resounding question: “If I can’t save myself/If it’s all black and white/If I can’t call for help/in the middle of the night/If I can’t turn to god/If I can’t turn to you/Who do I turn to?” Her voice subtly catches on the word “help,” as though knowing that life-giving protection is unavailable to her constricts her breath. Oladokun underscored the importance of the chorus lyrics to an interviewer: “[I]t’s illustrating that I don’t trust the police since I’m black. I don’t trust the police enough to know that they would think I’m not robbing my own home. I don’t think a lot of people understand what that is like. The feeling sucks.” In a separate statement she summarized her intent: “I wanted to write a firsthand account of how I feel and the question black people like me ask when this happens over and over again while nothing changes. I want it out now to help an already traumatized people cope, heal, and put words to their struggle.”

Wyatt Waddell, a young Chicago music-maker who’s been expertly, wittily, and self-sufficiently arranging home recordings of classic covers and singer-songwriter soul originals for the past few years, wrote “FIGHT!” as an anthem of admiration and uplift for young, Black Americans putting their bodies on the line in the streets and facing off against police force to agitate for change. “This song is me looking at what’s happening and what I’d tell the people protesting,” he specified in a statement. “I had to look outside of myself at what’s going on and how people are being affected. Hearing people’s fears, anxieties, and watching everything happening on TV really helped me write the song. I hope that it can be an anthem for my people as they’re fighting for a better America.”

Waddell begins with gospel-style repetition, creating a call-and-response pattern made up of his own layered vocals over a churchly foot stomp and hand clap groove: “There’s already so much pain/So much pain/So much pain/There’s already so much pain/And there ain’t nothin’ else we can do.” It seems like he could be building up to a confession of helplessness; instead, his funky refrain is bolstered by a sense of resolve and inevitability: “Nothin’ to do but fight.”

Photo credit: (L to R) Shemekia Copeland by Mike White; Chastity Brown by Wale Agboola; Leon Bridges by Jack McKain.