I finally watched this documentary about the life and contributions to music and society by Curtis Mayfield and The Impressions. It was a beautiful tribute to the life of a genius who ended his life paralyzed yet still writing music. The documentary included extensive interviews with several key people in Mayfield's life and music, from his wife and the remaining members of The Impressions (Cash and Gooden) to Johnny Pate and other musical legends, such as Carlos Santana and Chuck D. One prominent civil rights leader actually compares the music of Curtis and The Impressions to that of a spiritual force equivalent to Martin Luther King! I, though very biased as as well-known lover of The Impressions, am inclined to agree. Their music was and is uplifting, encouraging, spiritual, drenched in the ethos of the Black Freedom Struggle but timeless. Unfortunately, I do not recall Jerry Butler being an interviewee in this documentary, though his input on the early years of The Impressions and other aspects of Curtis's life would have been interesting.
Anyway, I learned from this documentary that the reason Curtis joined with The Impressions was because Jerry Butler said the group needed someone who could play an instrument to practice and rehearse with the vocal group. As a guitarist, Mayfield was perfect for the role. Fortunately, lengthy interviews with Johnny Pate reveal some additional facts around the The Impressions. Pate, much like in my extensive post on his impact on the sound of The Impressions, states his primary role was to emphasize and back-up Mayfield and The Impressions, which included jazz and pop arrangements with orchestras and string sections occasionally, but never to overpower Mayfield's voice (as well as enhancing their voices more generally). He also reminded me of the admirable falsetto of The Impressions, best exemplified on songs like "I Need You." Those guys really could sing high, and as an occasional singer myself, I know how difficult that can be.
Pate also revealed his love for "Woman's Got Soul," a jazzy song I have also blogged about. "People Get Ready" and numerous other hits and gems of The Impressions appear in the documentary, as live performances (such as a somewhat cheesy but interesting live TV show rendition of "People Get Ready" featuring The Impressions on a boat with groups of other ships following) or back stories. For instance, the original "We're a Winner" featured explicit lyrics alluding to the death of Uncle Tom, but of course no record label would distribute it so Mayfield changed the lyrics. Mayfield did not have to be that explicit anyway, the intent and meaning of the lyrics were obvious, or at least obvious enough for the song to face difficulties getting radio airplay. According to the members of the group, it was quite a battle to get "Choice of Colors" recorded, too, given its black and proud lyrical content. Unfortunately, or perhaps for the betterment of his career, Mayfield left The Impressions to focus on his solo career and multiple side projects in the 1970s, which is when I stop listening to the group.
Besides his music's lyrical content and gradual shift in the 1960s from more of the soul and pop sounds with slight jazz touches or gospel traditions, Mayfield's quick embrace of funk, black empowerment, and the 1970s milieu of soul and Black Power reveal his flexibility and ability to bridge the gap between the older generation of civil rights activism to something that would appeal to the more youthful aesthetics of pro-blackness (natural hairstyles, anti-colorist, pro-black self-ownership). Yet through it all, Mayfield remained an integrationist, with the hopes and ideals of the 1960s leading to his proud claims in "This Is My Country," asserting blacks' central role and contributions to the US while avoiding some fringe forms of black cultural nationalism that aimed to reorient African-American identity to Africa. By singing "we people who are darker than blue," which really had some resonance with his childhood experiences as the butt of jokes and insults because of the color of his skin, Mayfield also called for black unity among the black, brown and yellow, too.
Even when expressing disillusionment with the state of race relations ("If There's a Hell Below"), Mayfield still penned songs about the need for peace, maintaining hope, or spiritually uplifting music (or funkified versions of his earlier songs with The Impressions about love, unity across racial lines ("Mighty Mighty"), and the inequities and destruction of the proliferation of drugs in urban communities (though Super Fly and other blaxploitation flicks mostly glamorized the 'street life') in some of his other work. Intriguingly, Pate actually considered many of the songs on Super Fly to be quasi-rapping, another sign of Mayfield's relevance to the times he lived in and future generations of music, since he would be sampled often in hip-hop, too.
Indeed, Mayfield's passion for what he calls owning himself led to him running his own publishing company, record label (Curtom), writing soundtracks (Super Fly is the best-known), and, at the same time, recognizing when he needed a break. His wife, children, family, musical interests, and music career became, at a point, too demanding and difficult to balance for a man who wanted to, at the end of the day, be there with and for his family. Of course, he still made music, and even after the accident that paralyzed him at a show in Brooklyn, Mayfield wrote music, hosted visitors such as Chuck D, so to the end of his days, I like to think he did own himself more than most of us ever will. And though such a sentiment of 'self-ownership' could be seen as relic of some conservative strands in black political thought (I'm looking at your, Booker T. Washington and Marcus Garvey), I prefer to see Mayfield's stance beyond class or economic interests, but a much broader moral question of owning your own time, life, and taking responsibility for your decisions. This could mean a degree of personal autonomy, but really just a much broader question of determining and having the power to decide what you want to do with your life and not having your time and life schedule decided by others. As descendants of slaves and oppressed people with limited options set out for them, it makes perfect since for black folk to want that degree of collective freedom.
Rest in peace, Curtis, your life and music will forever live on. The documentary was put together quite well and some of the live footage of performances are priceless. May the music of The Impressions never die, nor shall its zeitgeist of that elusive goal of a freer world. "Keep on pushing!"
No comments:
Post a Comment