Sam Newsome

Sam Newsome
"The potential for the saxophone is unlimited." - Steve Lacy



2025 Winter Jazz Festival

2025 Winter Jazz Festival

Friday, June 5, 2020

Why are There so Few Black Writers in Jazz?

With so many black men and women playing jazz and carving out successful careers as performers, despite being only 13 percent of the U.S. population, why then are there so few of us who are jazz-writers? And let me be clear, many greats wrote extensively about jazz and jazz-laced topics: Ralph Ellison, Langston Hughes, James Baldwin, Toni Morrison, Albert Murray, Amiri Baraka, to name a few. And then there are the contemporary critics, essayists, and historians like Stanley Crouch, Willard Jenkins, K. Leander Williams, Greg Tate, Greg Thomas, and Robin D.G. Kelly. Even though they’re not all in the same league, what they share is an unwavering love for the music. Nonetheless, it does prove my point that even though black writers do exist in jazz, however, by comparison to the number of performers, we are still relatively few. 

A few years ago, I attended the Jazz Journalist Awards at the Blue Note Jazz Club (the JJA being an organization first conceived by Willard Jenkins), and you could pretty much assume that the white males were journalists and black males were musicians—which is fine.  These are the racially segregated teams that have played the proverbial game of jazz since the very beginning.

Personally, I would like to see a more sizeable presence of black jazz writers--more for their point of view than their skin color.  But only if they are excellent.

A few years ago, I attended the Jazz Journalist Awards at the Blue Note Jazz Club (the JJA being an organization first conceived by Willard Jenkins). You could pretty much assume that the white males were journalists and black males were musicians—which is fine. These are the racially segregated teams that have played the proverbial game of jazz since the very beginning.

I would like to see a more sizeable presence of black jazz writers--more for their point of view than their skin color. But only if they are excellent.

As I see it, if the world of jazz journalism started embracing the much-practiced paradigm of racial quotas and cosmetic diversity where people are hired not by the content of their work, but the content of their skin would eventually hurt everyone involved. Aspiring black writers would suffer in that they'll never be incentivized to rise to the occasion and earn their position as a staff writer at a coveted magazine or newspaper. White writers would have to blanket their anger in white guilt to damper their hostile feelings towards the newly incompetent writers taking some of their work—justifying it with "Well, it is their music, right?" And music publications would suffer in that their magazines and newspaper would be all of the sudden flooded with substandard writing. This is only a hypothetical situation, mind you, pointing out the potential pitfalls of skin-based diversification.

Many would argue that jazz publications are already flooded with substandard writing, even with a white male majority. And I'm not sure I would agree with this assertion. While it is true that jazz journalists don't always get it correct as far as deciphering who's excellent and who's not, I would hardly label the writing as substandard. It's pretty good. You don't get to be a magazine of longevity like DownBeat, JazzTimes, and The New York City Jazz Record, without doing quality work. That's just a fact.

Having more of a presence of black writers would offer a different sensibility that would broaden the aesthetical spectrum of these magazines, and not just cosmetic diversification, which is often the case with skin-based attempts at diversity like those seen at elite schools and universities.

We can hang up our jackets of political correctness for a moment and acknowledge that there's a certain cadence present in black writers, which differs from that of white, Hispanic, and Asian writers. For some reason, acknowledging cultural and aesthetical differences between groups gets us labeled as racist. I think it's more racist, pretending that no cultural differences exist in the arts.

I'm all for diversification, as long as you're bringing excellence and something much needed to the table.

 In fact, one of the biggest disservices that white liberals do to blacks is that they are all too willing to pacify us just to rid themselves of the stigma of being racist or beneficiaries of white privilege—no matter what the consequences are to us as a group, long-term. The reason that Stanley Crouch probably writes better than the average writer at DownBeat, JazzTimes, or the New York City Jazz Record, is because he had to. When you are a minority, not just regarding race and gender, but regarding being part of an under-represented group, you have to work harder. And this can be a good thing.

When you have to work harder, the quality of your work becomes better. Because you are producing better work than your peers, you are now raising the level of your medium. This is what happens when we value merit over melanin. And you may not like Stanley's tone or always agree with his often contrarian point of view, but you can't deny his ability to put pen to paper.

Here's another point: Imagine if the World Tennis Association had racial quotas that demanded that at least one black player had to be in the quarterfinals to make up for the injustices of slavery, there would certainly be no Venus and Serena Williams. And why would there be? They would no longer have the incentive to be the best of the best. If that kind of racial preference policy existed, the only thing the Williams sisters would need to make sure was intact would be their blackness—since that would be the main thing that they would be judged on. I call this the melanin-over-merit fallacy. 

I imagine if you were one of a handful of black staff writers at a predominately white-staffed magazine or newspaper you might get boxed into an aesthetical corner, feeling pressured to only write about black musicians, black related issues, or everybody’s favorite, racial discrimination. This is very different from white jazz writers, who are free to only write about music and musicians who inspire them. And sometimes writing explicitly about your race might be necessary, but my issue is feeling that these are your only options as black writers.

And this is one of the significant challenges of being black in America.

We don’t always feel we have the freedom to just be an individual. We are perpetually under societal pressures to be part of the black collective. More recently, we are letting white liberals define our narrative. Without aligning ourselves with this collective, whose unifying cultural glue is typically victimization, we become at a significant risk of being labeled an Uncle Tom, a coon, or a sell-out. And this is pretty scary for most blacks. We're one of the few groups that actually fear being ostracized from our race by other blacks. I've seen so many blacks play down their intelligence and social grace just so people won't think that they're not "down with the common folks." And this is one of the great tragedies of black culture. We let underclass values define the culture as a whole. We need more blacks who dare to stand up and say, "No, I'm not acting white, I'm acting normal. I'm not speaking white, I'm speaking correctly."

No one is more demonized than the black conservative (or nowadays, and old-school liberal) whose only crime is thinking differently. I remember when actress Stacy Dash was vilified by other blacks for endorsing Mitt Romney for president on Twitter. One person tweeted in response: "I like to request a trade to send Stacy Dash to the Caucasians to acquire Bill Clinton to the blacks." (Totally ignoring that we experienced one of the biggest mass incarcerations of black males during the Clinton Administration.) Another person tweeted back: "We've been letting you slide for years! It's OVER." As you can see, thinking differently about black culture, especially in politics is considered cultural-treason. Regarding Dash, my question is this: Why can't you be black, AND an airhead?

Ben Carson, with all of his extraordinary accomplishments, is nothing more than a sell-out, an Oreo, while the dude on the corner selling weed is a "real brutha." I wish I were making this stuff up.  Anthea Butler, professor of religion at the University of Pennsylvania, referred to Carson as "coon of the year, " for no other reason than having a point of view that's different from the black majority. Interestingly, people like Professor Butler rarely call out real coons like rappers Young Thug and Chief Keef for being the modern-day minstrels that they are. Their views on misogyny and gang violence against other blacks don't seem to warrant public scolding. Albeit, Ben Carson does say some pretty wacky things. And he probably should have stayed out of politics. His story is pretty inspirational, and he'd probably been a great motivational speaker. But that's neither here nor there. However, as I alluded to with Dash, why can't you be wacky AND black? Why does thinking differently automatically mean you're not authentic?

Let me also add that an ongoing membership into the black collective is simple: don't challenge the majority's point of view. Obama learned this very quickly. You can be committed to a life that's destructive to you and the image of black people as a whole, but as long as you don't break this Golden Rule, you're in. Challenging this doctrine by preaching personal accountability will result in immediate expulsion from the race in the black courts of public opinion. Remember Bill Cosby's Pound Cake speech?

In many instances, I don't agree with black conservatives, either, but I do admire their willingness to be different--to be an individual--no matter the societal backlash. I certainly couldn't do it. We live in a culture that seems to welcome diversity of skin tones, but not a variety of thoughts. This is especially true at many universities across the United States: invited conservative speakers are always being shut down at these schools. It's no longer about having a debate. "Either you agree with me, or you're not allowed to speak." This has become the new millennial model of free speech.

I remember once I was hanging with a fellow musician who was fascinated that I had written two pieces on my blog on soprano saxophonist Lol Coxhill the year he had died. Of course, the fascination was with the fact that I'm black and Lol Coxhill was white. Even considering that my blog is called Soprano Sax Talk and Lol Coxhill was a soprano sax player, that was not enough to make it not so much of a novelty. As a white liberal, the group that claims to be the most color blind, he could not get past my skin color and see me solely as a writer of soprano saxophone related issues and Lol Coxhill just as a soprano player. Mind you, if the tables were turned, and I was a white blogger writing about a black musician who recently died, no one would think twice about it. Most importantly, as a white writer, I wouldn't think twice about it, either. And this is a freedom that most other groups have when it comes to anything related to race.

Here's another interesting point about the black collective: They don't always get it correct. Sometimes, they are on the wrong side of the issues. Take jazz, for instance. Many of the black-collective consider smooth jazz to be real jazz. Good jazz. Black folks love Kenny G. He won two Soul Train Music Awards and nominated twice. Now imagine as a black jazz musician, we went along with this collectivist assertion. But we don't. We challenge this collectivist thinking and, consequently, we often end up with zero black people in our aesthetical-corner who are not fellow musicians. To me, this is precisely what black conservatives do--only they do it on the political stage, not the bandstand. Like the black jazz musician, their commitment is to what they believe to be the truth, not to the collective.

And this is the issue that I have with musicians who attempt to water-down their music to align themselves with this collective. They do what white liberals do: they pander to blacks instead of trying to elevate us. They treat black audiences like they're all aesthetically challenged, un-equipped with the intellect to appreciate high art, so they have to dumb it down for them. And the sad thing is, nobody wins. And this is not an assault on smooth jazz or Kenny G. I like some of that music. My issue is with musicians who play it not for the love of it but thinking they're making things easier for black audiences. This is what Michael Gerson from The Washington Post refers to as "The soft bigotry of low expectations." 



As far as the under-representation of black writers in jazz, maybe that's just the way it is for now—which is fine. As long as jazz journalism remains a meritocracy and there are no discriminatory hiring practices, I have no immediate problems with under-represented groups. Contrary to popular belief, racial and gender disparities within specific organizations are not always the result of discriminatory hiring practices or prejudiced culture. Sometimes particular groups merely outperform others. And in some cases, particular groups are just not even trying to play the game.

As I mentioned earlier, blacks represent roughly 13 percent of the U.S. population. However, we make up approximately 75 percent of the NBA. Is this the result of preferential drafting policies? Not. Black players are simply outperforming ALL other groups. Fortunately, for professional sports, teams are committed to winning, not looking like a rainbow coalition. And if the NBA does become more diverse, I'm sure it will be because the other groups stepped up their game. Not because of social engineering.

Meritocracy is what keeps jazz thriving. Either you can play or you can't. Being famous and getting press, those are different issues. However, as performers and composers, blacks have never needed social engineering to be a competitive or a dominant group in jazz. We've always done so the old fashion way: originality, hard work, and excellence. We didn't have to adhere to a lesser assessment model, compared to whites and Asians, the way we've had to when dealing with elite schools and universities. Some college admissions give race "bonus "points: blacks get 280 points added to their SATs, Hispanics get 180, and Asians get docked 50. Talking about the soft bigotry of low expectations. This sends  a clear message that says, "We have no faith in you and your abilities." So sad.

But who knows, maybe society as a whole can learn a thing or two from the jazz world.  We might look at jazz journalism 15 years from now and find that the majority of staff writers at the publications, as mentioned earlier, are Asian men and Hispanic women. If that's the case, I hope that they will be there for one and one reason only: excellent writing.





















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