The
Soul of Country Music
Though
not commonly thought of as the kind of black music to emanate from hip-hop-heavy
Los Angeles, a growing number of African-American Angelenos are listening
to-and recording-various forms of country music.
BY CYNTHIA
E. GRIFFIN
WAVE STAFF WRITER
Go to any urban neighborhood, and the music you're most
likely to hear floating of of open windows or booming from car stereos
is either hip-hop or R&B. But go to singer Vicki Vann's studio and
you'll hear something a bit different. It's not R&B, nor is it the
gospel music of her father, the Rev. Artis Turnbough, who was one of
th original members of the seminal gospel group the Mighty Clouds of
Joy. Vann sings country music.
But,
surprisingly enough, she's not the only African American in Southern
California singing music typically associated with white folks in Nashville.
Other L.A.-area singers on the country trail include Mike Mann, Will
Glover, Sharyn Lee, Butch Dubari and Sunny Daye. Alice
McAfee Williams, known professionally as Al Mac Will, is even trying
to create a spinoff music she calls urban country gospel.
How
do blacks living in the heart of a metropolis like Los Angeles connect
with country music? Some, like Will, consider it a God-given talent.
"I always felt out of synch, that what I was singing was not the
whole song in me," said Will, who sang gospel with people such
as the Rev. James Cleveland and his Gospel Music Workshop of America.
Although the Inglewood resident says the Lord told her to sing urban
country gospel, Williams didn't quite believe it until she went to Nashville
in 1997 and met a man trying to create a new category called "country
soul." He tried to convince her to join his label. "I looked
at him and said: 'You just helped me understand why I have to have my
own genre. I don't sound black enough to be 11 a.m. black Baptist gospel,
but I'm not country enough to be mainstream country.'"
Mike
Mann, whose 10-year old group, Mike Mann & the NightRiders, sings
cowboy soul said, "Osmosis was at work," in his case. "I
grew up in Iowa, and I think that's where the country came from; just
from listening to in on A.M. radio acculturated me to country music,"
said Mann, who was born in Tennessee. In his younger days, Mann traveled
around the country as a DJ, and during a stint in Houston discovered
black cowboys. At the same time, he was playing guitar and producing
music he had labeled "funk folk." Research and exposure helped
him realize he was playing cowboy soul, explained Mann.
Singing
was a natural for Daye, who was born on Chicago's Southside and spent
ages 5 thru 9 traveling with her mother, singer-actress Windy Barnes.
"People in my family listened to Pop Staples . . . and my grand-daddy
used to listen to Ray Charles. I thought that was country. So the gap
wasn't big for me," said the 24-year old Daye.
Vann
grew up hearing music by artists ranging from Aretgha Franklin to Nancy
Wilson. She began singing in church by age 5, and was a constant participant
in talent shows and musicals at Pasadena's John Muir High. "In
High school, I was the weird chick," Vann recalled. "We would
audition, and everybody else would sing Stephanie Mills and Anita Baker.
And I'd come up ther singing Anne Murray, Crystal Gale and Dolly Parton."
What attracted her to country was the storytelling lyrics, Vann said.
"There's a beginning, middle and end. I could relate because I
love to tell stories."
While
it may seem "weird" that Vann and the others sing country,
according to the 2003 Arbitron Black Radio report, almost two percent
of the 21 million African Americans who losten to the radio choose country
music. Tulsa-born country singer Al Downing says blacks represent about
27 percent of the country music record-buying public. "But, we're
not able to prove it. That's because we aren't counted in the demographics,"
said Frankie Staton, founder of the Black Country Music Association,
an organization trying to help African-Americans gain a foothold in
the genre. "And that's the gargantuan task," acknowledged
Staton. Concert promoters want "triple threat" artists who
can play, sing and write music as well as prove they can move product
and sell-out venues, and they're not going to experiment with blacks,
Staton said. Nor are black artists heard on country radio. 'Why' is
a complex jumble of reasons that include persistent strains of racism,
economics and misperceptions, Station said.
Access
is also an issue. There are only a miniscule number of black-owned radio
stations with country music formats and most, like Radio One's KSKW
in Springfield, Ohio, only play the top artists. But there are a few
like Texas-based, black-owned station KWRD 1470, where operations director
Henry Dunn would play country music from African Americans . . . if
he got any.
ReggieMiles,
an assistant professor in the Radio Television and Film department at
Howard University, also believes it's a matter of economics. "If
it's not going to make them any money, they're not going to be interested,"
he said. Consolidation has also forced stations to play only artists
with strong followings, added Miles. And that's the delimna. Without
major record deals or performance opportunities, blacks have a difficult
time developing a following. Staton said the BCMA is trying to change
that with a presence at Fan Fair, the hugh Country Music Association
festival held each June in Nashville, by holding performance showcases,
and with a CD it has created.
Blacks
are not new to country music. In 1926, harmonica player Deforest Bailey
appeared on the radio show that was the precursor to the Grand Ole Opry,
and blacks taught country legends such as Hank Williams and Jimmy Rodgers.
But only a few African Americans have registered on the country music
radar. Charlie Pride, of course is the first to come to mind. Downing
is another, but on a much smaller scale. Known as "Big" Al
Downing, the 63-year-old singer and piano player has been singing country
since age 15, when he and his brother rescued a beat-up old piano from
an Oklahoma junk yard. In 1976, he snagged several top 20 country records:
"Mr. Jones," "Touch Me" and "Bring It On Home."
Unlike Downing, whose current CD, "One of A Kind," was released
on a small independent label, African Americans who have signed with
large record companies, Trini Triggs, Cleve Francis, and the Alabama
band Wheels, have no new music on radio playlists. That absence convinced
the Los Angeles contingent not to wait for discovery. Instead Mann,
Vann, Williams and Daye each completed and are marketing their own CDs.
Daye,
with her boundless and youthful confidence plans to tackle Nashville
in May and call on some of the contacts she made last year when she
sang at the famed Bluebird Cafe. The Big Bear resident is supremely
confident she'll get a deal. "I don't know how I know it,"
Daye said, "but nothing can deter me from knowing that country
music is beyond ready for a black face, and that I will be a hugh black
country artist."