all music is what awakens from you when you are reminded by the instruments. It is not the violins and the cornets. It is not the oboe nor the beating drums...It is nearer and farther than they. walt whitman. leaves of grass.

Singing America Surviving America dizzy gillespie, swing low sweet cadillac, 1967

I Hear America Singing Walt Whitman I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear, Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe and strong, The carpenter singing his as he measures his plank or beam, The mason singing his as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work, The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat, the deck- hand singing on the steamboat deck, The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench, the hatter singing as he stands, The woodcutter's song, the ploughboy's on his way in the morn- ing, or at noon intermission or at sundown, The delicious singing of the mother, or of the young wife at work, or of the girl sewing or washing, Each singing what belongs to him or her and to none else, The day what belongs to the day—at night the party of young fellows, robust, friendly, Singing with open mouths their strong melodious songs. 1867

I TOO, HEAR AMERICA SINGING Julian Bond I too, hear America singing But from where I stand I can only hear Little Richard And Fats Domino. But sometimes I hear Ray Charles Drowning in his own tears or Bird Relaxing at Camarillo Or Horace Silver doodling, Then I don't mind standing a little longer

“When you say America you refer to the territory stretching between the icecaps of the two poles. So to hell with your barriers and border guards!- Diego Rivera

The white cracker who wrote the National Anthem knew what he was doing. He set the word "free" to a note so high nobody could reach it. Tony Kushner, Angels in America (1993)

I sing because I’m happy. I sing because I’m free.

I pledge allegiance to my Grandma For that banana pudding, our piece of Americana...Built a republic, that still stands I’m trying to lead a nation, to leave to my little man’s Or my daughter...The scales was lopsided, I’m just restoring order...The streets raised me, pardon my bad manners I got my liberty, chopping grams up Street justice, I pray God understand us I pledge allegiance to all the scramblers This is the Star Spangled Banner R

Made in America. 2011

what is the political? Hannah Arendt: the activities of ordinary citizens who through the exercise of their agency in contexts of public interaction shape the conditions of their collective existence, spaces of communal identity, and social action

art as a form politics can take John Street: music’s political potential shouldn’t be limited to either sonic cause or measurable musical effect. “Music embodies political values and experiences,” he writes, “and organizes our response to society as political thought and action. Music does not just provide a vehicle of political expression, it is that expression.”

Expressly Political Imaginatively Political Rhetorically Political Magnetically Political

I believe, in fact, that attempts to bring political protest together with ‘popular music’- that is, with entertainment music- are for the following reason doomed from the start. The entire sphere of popular music...is to such a degree inseparable from consumption, from the cross-eyed transfixion with amusement, that attempts to outfit it with a new function remain entirely superficial. And I have to say that when somebody...accompanies maudlin music by singing something or other about Viet Nam being unbearable, I find, in fact, this song unbearable, in that by taking the horrendous and making it somehow consumable, it ends up wringing something like consumption-qualities out of it.

Los Hermanos Banuelos “El Lavaplatos” 1926 One day very desperate, because of so much revolution, I came over to this side of the border without paying the immigration. Oh, what a fast one, I crossed without paying anything. On arriving at the station, I ran into a friend, who gave me an invitation to work on el traque. I supposed el traque would be some kind of warehouse, but it was to repair the track where the train ran. Oh what a friend, how he took me to the track. When I got tired of the track, he invited me again, to pick tomatoes and thin beets. And there I earned indulgences walking on my knees; about four or five miles they gave me for penance.

Ethel Waters, “Supper Time,” 1933 written by Irving Berlin

Ken Gonzales-Day “Erased Lynchings”

TROUBLE EVERY DAY Wednesday I watched the riot... Seen the cops out on the street Watched 'em throwin' rocks and stuff And chokin' in the heat And I'm watchin' and I'm waitin' Hopin' for the best Even think I'll go to prayin' Every time I hear 'em sayin' That there's no way to delay That trouble comin' every day No way to delay That trouble comin' every day Hey, you know something people? I'm not black But there's a whole lots a times I wish I could say I'm not white 'Cause the fire in the street Ain't like the fire in the heart And in the eyes of all these people Don't you know that this could start On any street in any town

Thee Midniters “Whittier Boulevard” 1965

Chicano Blowouts/Student Walkouts Young Chicanos for Community Action Brown Berets

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