#the vibes of this playlist are so deeply jarring you guys

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

I made a playlist for Don’t Go Blindly Into The Dark but I think it might be counterproductive because I seem to be spending more time screaming the lyrics to Icarus by Bastille (Jesper), Search and Destroy by Florence + the Machine (Wylan), and Common People by Pulp (impeccable Wesper vibesssssss) than I do actually writing anything

[rhondanicole]

Black Music Month: Artists and Albums that Matter to Me

June is #BlackMusicMonth, an annual celebration of African Americans’ innumerable contributions to the American–and global–musical landscape. Each day this month, I’m highlighting some of my favorite artists and albums.

Day 11

Michael Franti + Spearhead, Stay Human

My literal introduction to Michael Franti + Spearhead came during my sophomore year at SMU, when I [accidentally] met the band in Hughes-Trigg Student Center. It was late 1994, and Franti et al were making the college tour circuit in support of their debut album, Home (Franti had released an album some years earlier with his former band, Disposable Heroes of Hiphoprisy). One of the Program Council committees had arranged for the band to come to campus; up to that point, I had never heard of them. As a member of Program Council, however, I felt it my duty to at least go and see who and what they were all about, and support my comrades in student event programming. When I strolled into the Student Center and saw this group of cute guys standing around, I thought they were students visiting from another school and immediately rushed over to attempt whatever level of flirting my awkward 19-year-old self could muster. After a round of introductions, however, I realized these weren’t “new boys,” but an even more interesting collection of musicians. Some chit chat and displays of my dimples later, and I headed off to class (maybe. Was I really going to class?) with tickets to their show later than night in Deep Ellum, where they’d be opening for Digable Planets.

At that same time, I was also a DJ on the campus radio station, KPNI. So I was doubly excited to receive not one but 2 Spearhead promotional CDs, along with 2 promo posters, at the studio. One CD featured various mixes of Home’s lead single, “People in da Middle,” while the other offered a handful of takes of one of the album’s other standout tracks, “Hole in da Bucket.” I added these tunes to my DJ Lady Echo playlist and, from then on, considered myself a fan of Spearhead.

But then, life happened, and for some reason, I all but forgot about MFSH not long after. In fact, I completely missed the release of their second album, Chocolate Supa Highway, in 1997. Maybe it was because I was no longer doing a radio show, or, even more likely, because by the time that album dropped, the band was beginning to lose its footing in the hip-hop landscape of that time thanks to the commercialization of so-called “gangsta rap.” Groups like Spearhead, Digables, and Arrested Development, which had enjoyed a good amount of room on the airwaves and on wreckastow shelves in the early ‘90s, had quickly been replaced by harder, heavier hip-hop acts who countered the formers’ Black empowerment, peace, love, and positive vibes with grimy tales from the proverbial hood. And while Chocolate certainly attempted to adapt to this shift, it doesn’t appear that audiences were all that interested. And that’s a shame, because songs like “Gas Gauge,” which tells the story of a young Black kid shot by police all because he was trying to get his wallet from the glove box, and smoldering tracks like “U Can’t Sing R Song” and “Comin’ to Gitcha,” both of which carry some serious R&B vibes, could have worked on urban radio at the time.

It would be May of 2001 before we heard anything new from Michael Franti + Spearhead, and the album that would introduce them into the new Millennium was the presciently titled Stay Human. The album opens with “Oh My God,” a soulful, pensive tune that seems to pick up where Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On” left off. The whole of Stay Human finds Franti’s passion for tackling topics of social justice through song intact, but this time, more focused and disciplined--a noticeable contrast to his previous albums. Between the tracks are a series of segues featuring two characters, Brotha Sunshine (Franti) and The Nubian Poetess, as hosts of a non-profit radio program aimed at “what the others won’t play and what they definitely won’t say.” At the heart of this fictitious radio show is conversation about the pending execution of Sister Fatima, a woman convicted of murder and upon whose execution rests the fate of a deeply contested gubernatorial race (the governor is played by none other than Woody Harrelson). Throughout the album, the radio hosts discuss the case as new evidence has emerged suggesting Sister Fatima is not guilty. 

Of course, most of us remember 2001 for the horrific events of 9/11, and although Stay Human dropped several months before that life-altering September day, one can’t help but draw eery parallels between the album’s political urgency and the political climate of the time. One of Franti’s greatest accomplishments as a songwriter is his ability to take songs weighted with social commentary and make them light and fun, without losing the songs’ message. Stay Human’s title track is an excellent example of this, with MFSH singing “all the freaky people make the beauty of the world” while also talking about human condition issues such as starvation and the fears people experienced as we headed into Y2K. “Do Ya Love” takes on same-sex marriage years before the conversation became serious platform fodder for presidential campaigns, and “Love’ll Set Me Free” finds Franti taking on the perspective of someone who’s been incarcerated and separated from his loved ones with empathy, heart, and nuance. 

One of the album’s most poignant tracks, “We Don’t Mind,” is a protest song for the 21st century. The album’s climatic final radio segue is jarring and unexpected, but lays the groundwork for the final track, “Skin on the Drum.”

In the years since Stay Human’s release, Michael Franti has become a bonafide international rock star, thanks in large part to the surprise hit, 2008′s “Say Hey (I Love You).” For many an OG Spearit (MFSH’s nickname for their fans), the more recent releases lack the cohesive, socially conscious through-lines of his earlier works. Following Stay Human, the pop-tinged but still political Everyone Deserves Music delivered a high-energy mix of hip-hop and rock, and 2006′s Yell Fire! kept the embers aglow with its infusion of reggae. 2008′s All Rebel Rockers, the album that gifted us with the aforementioned “Say Hey,” seemed to mark the end of the directly political Franti, and usher in a new era of MFSH which would focus more on relationships--both personal and romantic, and global, encompassing various aspects of the human condition. Perhaps this is due to the dramatic shift in our own political landscape, considering that Franti’s early ‘00s albums were released during the Bush era while albums from 2008 and beyond came during President Obama’s time in office (Franti even released a tribute to POTUS after his first election). And so, although the world continued to stare down any number of social and political urgencies during the comparatively less chaotic Obama years, it would appear that Franti decided to turn his attention a bit more inward, with 2010′s Sound of Sunshine, 2013′s All People, and 2016′s SoulRocker moving further and further away from the themes set out on Stay Human.  

Even still, it’s no coincidence that Franti’s latest tour and documentary film are both named Stay Human. The false sense of security we grew too comfortable with during the Age of Obama gave way to unadulterated bullshit, so perhaps Franti’s return to the themes he first explored in 2001 couldn’t have come a moment too soon. 

--Rhonda Nicole