Something I think about sometimes is how black women could express in songs their feelings towards men who did them wrong or broke their hearts. How they could soulfully do this in a decade that wasn’t as progressive. Must of been up against a lot and still spoke their truth. 

The other is how a lot of soul songs tell you how to move to them in a way that sets you free, to express your soul, how this doesn’t have to be constricted; which again understanding the history and artists intergenerational continued oppression, didnt stop them, built resilience and the hope and faith to carry on.
 

I wondered whether this was just a me thought or whether this had been explored before. 
 

I am an amprentice. 

take a listen to Doris duke . I'm a loser album 

“What came first – the music or the misery? Did I listen to the music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to the music? Do all those records turn you into a melancholy person?”
― Nick Hornby, High Fidelity

“People worry about kids playing with guns, and teenagers watching violent videos; we are scared that some sort of culture of violence will take them over. Nobody worries about kids listening to thousands - literally thousands - of songs about broken hearts and rejection and pain and misery and loss.”
― Nick Hornby, High Fidelity

 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anyone_Who_Knows_What_Love_Is_(Will_Understand)

 

Edited September 10, 2024Sep 10 by Simon T

I have a lot of time for Nick Hornby, he's a great writer on a number of subjects that are close to the hearts of soul collectors ... BUT ... I can't agree with what he writes here (copied from the above post) ... " .. Nobody worries about kids listening to thousands of songs about broken hearts and rejection and pain and misery and loss.”

I believe that in a time of grief over a relationship failure, listening to songs about broken hearts and rejection and pain and misery actually brings solace to the 'victim'. Many such folk will believe their 'suffering' is unique to them, but being able to listen to (say) "Stay With Me" lets them know that such heartache has been endured by many.

While I like dancing to instrumentals & some are so great that you just have to sit back and admire the musical excellence they display, it's the words to many soul songs that have grabbed my attention down the last 60+ years. Whether the theme of a song is heartbreak, joy, concern for the world & one's fellow man, a plea to one's partner, family or friends, a cry for help in an uncaring world, a statement of injustices being experienced ... soul can touch a nerve that most other forms of music can't.

Heartbreak has always been high on the list of subjects addressed in soul songs. This is not surprising as the genre developed from earlier blues & gospel roots. Blues being the original 'music of heartbreak'. Gospel also speaks of the trials one endures before the promise of a 'better afterlife'.   

I know my life would have been the poorer if I hadn't heard the likes of "What's Going On", "The Ghetto",  "I'm So Proud", "People Get Ready", "Since I Lost The One I Love", "Can't Satisfy", "You Always Hurt Me", "I Heard It Through the Grapevine, "War", "My Girl", "School Of Life", "What's So Easy for Two Is So Hard for One", "When I'm Gone", "The Tracks of My Tears", "When Something Is Wrong With My Baby", "Never Like This Before", "Sixty Minutes Of Your Love" and more. 

 

Talking about anger, bitterness, disappointment more than heartbreak, sorrow and sadness when it isn't actually about LOVE as much as it is about PRIDE and conventions... Not all relationships are about love. Then triggering the anger 'emotive' response.

My instinctive choice in female significative stand is this of a young mad Mary Wells setting the Motor Town Uptown Rythm'N'Blues trademark shouting to all the young ladies out there willing to float their boat of their own to dump their 'time wasters' partner.

 

Good thread.

The lyrics have always moved me on the dance floor. I was, I guess I still am, looking for a love.

Never worked out - now that's a Blue's song for sure. I still grieve for the love that never was. 

There's a Welsh word, beautiful, it could have come right from Alabama.

 Hiraeth is an untranslatable Welsh word that describes a longing for a home, a place, or a feeling that no longer exists or never existed.

It’s a homesickness for the places from your past you can’t return to or even those you’ve never been to. Hiraeth can also mean nostalgia for your past self, the people who are long gone, or the emotions you used to feel.

Peter

 

Females in the soul music industry—and resilience for that matter, as mentioned in the OG post— was a theme I was asked to comment on for Women's History Month. Was written for a mainstream audience but may be of interest / relevance here:

 

R-E-S-P-E-C-T! That Woman's Got Soul! 

https://windlefreelance.com/2020/07/26/r-e-s-p-e-c-t-that-womans-got-soul/

"Let’s face it. There would be no need for a Women’s History Month over forty years on from inception, if under-recognition of female contributions to culture, society and the workplace wasn’t still a 'thing'. The music business is as guilty as any other male dominated industry of inequality and denied opportunity. Female recording artists are still, on average, earning less than male counterparts. Less women reach music executive positions, and less are employed as songwriters, musicians within the industry.

The good news is that strong, determined, pioneering women are well represented though the decades, and in all facets of the business. Take Hattie Leeper, the first female African American DJ to be employed on a commercial radio station in North Carolina. At fourteen years of age, she would hang around the WGIV station. Hattie would make coffee for staff, answer the phone, file 78rpm records for DJs – just about anything to get her foot in the door. From these humble beginnings a chance to introduce records was offered after a DJ failed to turn up for work. “Chatty” Hattie, as she became known, was an established household name by the time she had moved up through the WGIV ranks and onto Big WAYS, two of the most popular stations in the Carolinas for R&B in the 1960s. Her secretarial position at the National Association of Radio and Television Announcers allowed her to meet luminaries such as Jerry Wexler of Atlantic Records and Berry Gordy, owner of Motown. This helped further Hattie’s interests in promoting, managing and recording soul music artists in the region. Hattie enjoyed an extremely successful career in the media and was inducted into the North Carolina Association of Broadcasters Hall of Fame in 2015.

Back in her early days, Hattie struck a friendship with record label owner Florence Greenberg, another woman who worked in what was traditionally deemed a man’s world. She was not African American, but a Jewish middle-aged suburban wife, with two children in tow. Florence was captivated by the song-writing creativity coming out of the Brill Building in New York and driven by a strong passion for R&B. If it wasn’t for her Scepter-Wand label empire, the careers of The Shirelles, Dionne Warwick and Chuck Jackson would not have been catapulted to fame so quickly, if at all. Maxine Brown, another of Greenberg’s high-profile artists, commented once: “She was a brave woman – one of the few to own a record label in this business, competing with men and standing in there toe to toe with male producers and record owners.”

Background tales of poverty and prejudice are found within the profiles of many of our female African American icons. Billie Holiday and Etta James had their demons, including heroin and alcohol addiction. Tina Turner and Aretha Franklin endured years of physical and mental abuse from their respective partners. Many artists succumbed to the consequences of their circumstances. But circumstance can also inform creativity, and some make it despite it all. Within just a few years of divorcing her manager-husband, Aretha’s “Amazing Grace” LP was a global big seller, and her Queen of Soul status was assured.

If there was one recording which epitomises the sentiment of this month’s theme, Aretha Franklin gave us that too. In her initial recording period with her first label Columbia, she was mainly resigned to presenting jazz and standards and was prevented from straying too close to soul music. Columbia just didn’t know what to do with her artistically. Signing to Atlantic in 1967 and “Respect” was a game changer. Placed near the top of Rolling Stone magazine’s list of “The 500 Greatest Songs of All Time”, the song landed two Grammys including the award for “Best Rhythm and Blues Solo Vocal Performance, FEMALE”. Aretha’s unique spin plus the musical punch from the Muscle Shoals Rhythm Section transformed Otis Redding’s original take as weary, bitter male commentary into a woman’s unambiguous demand for respect in the domestic setting. But it came to represent even more than that. “Respect” was recorded when the country was about to be embroiled in violent political unrest. The song hit the airwaves just at the right time to be adopted by the civil rights movement. And thus, it became a banner for both social and racial freedom. There may not have been any explicit political commentary within the lyrics but then there didn’t need to be. One word said it all."

 

Edited September 11, 2024Sep 11 by Windlesoul

1 hour ago, Windlesoul said:

Females in the soul music industry—and resilience for that matter, as mentioned in the OG post— was a theme I was asked to comment on for Women's History Month. Was written for a mainstream audience but may be of interest / relevance here:

 

R-E-S-P-E-C-T! That Woman's Got Soul! 

https://windlefreelance.com/2020/07/26/r-e-s-p-e-c-t-that-womans-got-soul/

"Let’s face it. There would be no need for a Women’s History Month over forty years on from inception, if under-recognition of female contributions to culture, society and the workplace wasn’t still a 'thing'. The music business is as guilty as any other male dominated industry of inequality and denied opportunity. Female recording artists are still, on average, earning less than male counterparts. Less women reach music executive positions, and less are employed as songwriters, musicians within the industry.

The good news is that strong, determined, pioneering women are well represented though the decades, and in all facets of the business. Take Hattie Leeper, the first female African American DJ to be employed on a commercial radio station in North Carolina. At fourteen years of age, she would hang around the WGIV station. Hattie would make coffee for staff, answer the phone, file 78rpm records for DJs – just about anything to get her foot in the door. From these humble beginnings a chance to introduce records was offered after a DJ failed to turn up for work. “Chatty” Hattie, as she became known, was an established household name by the time she had moved up through the WGIV ranks and onto Big WAYS, two of the most popular stations in the Carolinas for R&B in the 1960s. Her secretarial position at the National Association of Radio and Television Announcers allowed her to meet luminaries such as Jerry Wexler of Atlantic Records and Berry Gordy, owner of Motown. This helped further Hattie’s interests in promoting, managing and recording soul music artists in the region. Hattie enjoyed an extremely successful career in the media and was inducted into the North Carolina Association of Broadcasters Hall of Fame in 2015.

Back in her early days, Hattie struck a friendship with record label owner Florence Greenberg, another woman who worked in what was traditionally deemed a man’s world. She was not African American, but a Jewish middle-aged suburban wife, with two children in tow. Florence was captivated by the song-writing creativity coming out of the Brill Building in New York and driven by a strong passion for R&B. If it wasn’t for her Scepter-Wand label empire, the careers of The Shirelles, Dionne Warwick and Chuck Jackson would not have been catapulted to fame so quickly, if at all. Maxine Brown, another of Greenberg’s high-profile artists, commented once: “She was a brave woman – one of the few to own a record label in this business, competing with men and standing in there toe to toe with male producers and record owners.”

Background tales of poverty and prejudice are found within the profiles of many of our female African American icons. Billie Holiday and Etta James had their demons, including heroin and alcohol addiction. Tina Turner and Aretha Franklin endured years of physical and mental abuse from their respective partners. Many artists succumbed to the consequences of their circumstances. But circumstance can also inform creativity, and some make it despite it all. Within just a few years of divorcing her manager-husband, Aretha’s “Amazing Grace” LP was a global big seller, and her Queen of Soul status was assured.

If there was one recording which epitomises the sentiment of this month’s theme, Aretha Franklin gave us that too. In her initial recording period with her first label Columbia, she was mainly resigned to presenting jazz and standards and was prevented from straying too close to soul music. Columbia just didn’t know what to do with her artistically. Signing to Atlantic in 1967 and “Respect” was a game changer. Placed near the top of Rolling Stone magazine’s list of “The 500 Greatest Songs of All Time”, the song landed two Grammys including the award for “Best Rhythm and Blues Solo Vocal Performance, FEMALE”. Aretha’s unique spin plus the musical punch from the Muscle Shoals Rhythm Section transformed Otis Redding’s original take as weary, bitter male commentary into a woman’s unambiguous demand for respect in the domestic setting. But it came to represent even more than that. “Respect” was recorded when the country was about to be embroiled in violent political unrest. The song hit the airwaves just at the right time to be adopted by the civil rights movement. And thus, it became a banner for both social and racial freedom. There may not have been any explicit political commentary within the lyrics but then there didn’t need to be. One word said it all."

 

Great stuff as always Mark; thank you for sharing.

Aretha was, is, one of the greatest female singers in our history. I also put Gladys up there with her. Two of my best.

Peter

Initially I was inclined to be a little cynical of thread as I thought it might attempt to pull out some kind of social or political aspect from songs. The perspectives from other members are really articulate and insightful on a subject I've given little consideration to. Music for me has always been more or cerebral experience and although I never study lyrics, certain lines resonate in a random way as they seep into my conscience. It's really thought provoking this, because I'm actually considering how I listen to music and take it's elements. 🤔

@Roburt

 

i believe nick hornby is simply asking a question not expressing his views.  Reading between the lines of what he is saying I would say his views are aligned to yours.

 

when he says does listening to melancholic songs make you sad I believe he is suggesting it probably doesn’t ?

 

i might be wrong but that’s my perception.

 

i believe you can find strength or understanding in these songs some of the best soul songs tell strong emotional stories.

 

rainbow road being a great example.

 

the look on your face being a story of two halves and a great dance floor track.

 

magic touch upbeat happy song or a tragic story of domestic violence.

 

Edited September 11, 2024Sep 11 by Dylan

12 minutes ago, Dylan said:

@Roburt

 

i believe nick hornby is simply asking a question not expressing his views.  Reading between the lines of what he is saying I would say his views are aligned to yours.

 

when he says does listening to melancholic songs make you sad I believe he is suggesting it probably doesn’t ?

 

i might be wrong but that’s my perception.

 

i believe you can find strength or understanding in these songs some of the best soul songs tell strong emotional stories.

 

rainbow road being a great example.

 

the look on your face being a story of two halves and a great dance floor track.

 

magic touch upbeat happy song or a tragic story of domestic violence.

 

 

On 11/09/2024 at 13:06, Peter99 said:

There's a Welsh word, beautiful, it could have come right from Alabama.

 Hiraeth is an untranslatable Welsh word that describes a longing for a home, a place, or a feeling that no longer exists or never existed.

It’s a homesickness for the places from your past you can’t return to or even those you’ve never been to. Hiraeth can also mean nostalgia for your past self, the people who are long gone, or the emotions you used to feel.

Peter

Very interesting - I know that feeling

I was too young to have gone to Wigan, but spent an unreasonable amount of time early - mid 90's thinking about it, feeling like I'd missed out, nostalgic for something that I'd never even experienced - bit strange really 🤣

17 minutes ago, Chris Turnbull said:

Very interesting - I know that feeling

I was too young to have gone to Wigan, but spent an unreasonable amount of time early - mid 90's thinking about it, feeling like I'd missed out, nostalgic for something that I'd never even experienced - bit strange really 🤣

Had similar feelings about late 80s clubs, raves and Ibiza 😂 

34 minutes ago, Chris Turnbull said:

Very interesting - I know that feeling

I was too young to have gone to Wigan, but spent an unreasonable amount of time early - mid 90's thinking about it, feeling like I'd missed out, nostalgic for something that I'd never even experienced - bit strange really 🤣

Hi Chris

I hope you're ok my friend.

The pull of the memorable aura of Wigan Casino. 😅

I was very young too but went a few times. The magic for me was Richard's mixed sets - his 81 60's, 70's and 80's have stood the test of time for me; never been beaten. I also recall the "Keep the Faith not the Funk" banner, and the backlash aimed at Soul Sam, who never appeared again after that night. Me and my mate Mick Bradbury (ex of Boston), did a paper petition in support of Sam. 

Halcyon days - but the scene survived and flourished after the demise of the Casino; don't grieve too much! 🙂

All the best my friend. 

Peter

One of Hornby’s top ten lists contained songs by OV Wright and Marvin Gaye. Twenty odd years ago.

58 minutes ago, Chris Turnbull said:

Very interesting - I know that feeling

I was too young to have gone to Wigan, but spent an unreasonable amount of time early - mid 90's thinking about it, feeling like I'd missed out, nostalgic for something that I'd never even experienced - bit strange really 🤣

So I'm stood on the hacienda balcony in 1990 withy brother and he said, you know the younger lads used to stand on the balcony at Wigan and ask if the torch was better than this? looking down at a heaving dancefloor in station road. He said this, is better than both, as we looked at the insanity of the hac in full flow, never had that wanderlust since.

One thing that amazes me are the lyrics that seem to echo the scene but were of course written in a different decade, country and context. Obvious one is out on the floor but even the various Breakaway songs talk about being out of the mainstream. 

14 hours ago, Dr Ray Dj said:

One thing that amazes me are the lyrics that seem to echo the scene but were of course written in a different decade, country and context. Obvious one is out on the floor but even the various Breakaway songs talk about being out of the mainstream. 

Music and lyrics are universal. 

Peter