It’s been awhile since the time I found and lost religion and as a long time skeptic I’ve embraced Bertrand Russell more than Jesus. Despite the preoccupation secular America places on religion, I’ve chosen my own unclear path toward a spiritual life and made many dear mistakes. But somehow I found my way through the mess so I could find this accidental place…and no matter how many times I’ve stumbled, I would eventually get back up and try again. I’m a fighter yet my battle is too often ill-defined or even illogical. For instance, I despise the crass only-for-buck music of top ten radio yet I love Bubblegum. And like an itch I just can’t scratch away, I sense an exploitive undercurrent in commercial music that pretends to the throne of the almighty. Gospel music became popular after the Civil War and the Fisk Jubilee Singers gained international fame singing slave songs such as Steal Away and Swing Low Sweet Chariot. Gospel’s been a commercial enterprise ever since. It’s not that commercialization is bad or insincere, it just takes the best original musical ideas, strangles the life out of ‘em and recycles it as pop culture. Memphis legend Jim Dickinson said something like this: The best songs never get recorded, the best recordings never get released, and the best releases don’t get played. With all that in mind I approached this concert like a pacifist at a Bush rally - not sure I’d fit in…not with all the hallelujahs.

I wasn’t sure I’d even understand this ancient form of music though I could appreciate gospel’s origins in the black experience of slavery and captivity. The slaves would sing “STEAL AWAY, STEAL AWAY TO JESUS” to signal plans for an escape. Courage like that always amazes me - and like the calm after a storm I begin to understand that man is capable of great things.

The Pentecostal church created the conditions for modern Gospel music by allowing for secular instruments like guitars, harmonicas and drums to punctuate and drive the music. It also refined the old field hollers to a more rough-edged, wide open vocal style with trills and syncopation – very dramatic and percussive at the sane time. In its post-civil war formative years, Gospel’s popularity expanded exponentially as the mission to promote the cause gained ascendance.
But could I appreciate the modern gospel of the Blind Boys of Alabama without hearing their message? Could I believe the transcendent canon of the divine…or would I notice only its commercial limitations?

The Blind Boys of Alabama marched onto the stage arm-to-shoulder, playing it to the crowd. The oldest-lookin’ dude, Jimmy Carter was the titular head and the leader onstage. He did all the talking and his brilliant tenor was simply amazing. The common wisdom is that as singers age out, they lose their range and pitch, not true for ol’ Jimmy - this cat still has it and his testimonial rings true… “Folks I promise you one thing Saginaw will never be the same…and the show kicks off with the uptempo hand clapping romp of Down By The Riverside, one of the more traditional sounding songs of the evening…hmmm these cats sound good. At times, three or four or all seven members sang in unison or in harmony, enriching the dynamics of their vocal fire and brimstone. The other old looking dude was none other than Clarence Fountain the original lead singer of the band. In his day, Fountain was heralded as one of the kings of Gospel singers and was a contemporary of Sam Cooke and the Soul Stirrers. He’s still singing and leading the band but he takes a back seat to the younger members these days…and he sure does have a good time. Just watching those octogenarians at work is both a wonder and an inspiration. How on earth can they reach down so deep and find the spirit and energy to perform a 90 minute show? Carter linked their rendition of God Said It (it’s good enough for me) to today’s war and strife in Iraq. It’s really a peace and love anthem. Carter also reminded us of the commercial nature of the deal…singing their Grammy winning song such as Tom Wait’s Way Down the Hole begins with a rap about CD’s in the lobby with a money back guarantee – “if you like it, keep it, if you don’t like, keep it, but if you want your money back, we’ll give you your money back…if we come back.” Yep, the old codger sure got his rap down, a rap so rehearsed it reminds you of Paul McCartney in a 25,000 seat arena talkin’ like he’s in his kitchen at home, smokin’ dope and drinkin’ hard liquor backstage hating Heather hard and thinking about when he was a young rock god, back when he really cared about music… hmm, but this old dude REALLY seems too care. Could he be at the crossroads, that intersection where art meets commerce and integrity still exists? One step beyond the mark and it’s all over. It’s a fine line. They were doing just fine singing Percy Mayfield’s People Get Ready but when they sang Amazing Grace to the Animals’ arrangement of House of The Rising Son, they may have gone over the edge. It was odd to be sure but I like odd and the pairing a song about “sin and misery” in a New Orleans whorehouse with a song about the sweet grace of being “lost but found” just may be a perfect dialectic. I must admit I loved their bluesy version of Norman Greenbaum’s hippie anthem Sprit in the Sky. Ok, it’s not gospel but who cares…gimme that country blues Gospel of Lord Remember Me – it was a call & response hand clappin’, testifyin’, groove fest. The preacher is singing to the flock and they are receiving the Holy Ghost. The band is playing traditional 12 bar blues and rock riffs, only quieter, so maybe the faithful doesn’t notice. But we do notice and we love it.

For the finale, Carter takes us back to an old time tent revival, speaking in tongues placing of hands, faith healing, and swilling some that fine elixir, good for anything that ails you. Carter calls out, “DO YOU FEEL IT” as he descends from the steps of the stage to the theater floor. Now… how the hell can a blind man do that? But Carter was unflappable …”RAISE YOUR HAND AND SAY YEAH”! I believe this is where Stevie Wonder found his scream and James Brown copped his shtick. This is where it all began…Blues, Jazz, Rock, R&B, Hip Hop, Rap – truly American music, pop music for the masses.
And it’s all good.

Peace,
Bo White