A few weeks have passed and I am just now
coming down from a lyrically induced high
imparted by Solange.
If you are a longtime reader, you already know
my sentiments about and toward Solange...
(For the sake of time I will simply leave the link for your backtracking pleasure).
Over the past couple of months, Solange has been hinting
at some form of audio-visual greatness that was sure
to change the landscape.
Little did we know what we were in store for.
Following the overall tone of activism in 2016,
in order for us to stand up, she had us sit down with
A Seat At The Table.
Beginning with the track listing....
We almost didn't need to hear the album to
understand exactly the tone and direction we would
be heading in. Fully aware of her efforts to restore the
imagery of and in the black community, this was her
monument and her falsetto was the chisel.
With tracks titled " F.U.B.U" "Mad" and "Don't Touch My Hair"
you instantly heard the frustrations that echo
any standard brunch/water cooler chat/twitter feed by a
A fantastic and resounding contradiction is what this is...
so melodic and soft, familiar of love ballads, if you will,
yet it is essentially a roaring battle cry, pleading for
basic human respect.
The interludes: typically the parts one would fast forward through
in order to get to the meat of an album.
Except here the interludes are the bones...the marrow really.
providing all the flavor and nourishment to this
meal which we aren't worthy of receiving.
With features from both parents
Matthew Knowles and Tina Lawson,
providing insight on their individual black experience,
to Master P's dissection of his hustle and building of his
No Limit empire, it has been rightfully placed
at the musical alter right beside Lauryn Hill's
The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill album.(1998)
Solange blessed us 100 fold by quickly following up the
album release with visuals to "Cranes In The Sky" &
"Don't Touch My Hair". Unless you have been hiding under
a boulder for the past 5 or so years, you are full aware of
Solange's knack for making any and everything visually
delectable by simply putting her pinky in it.
The anticipation rivaled that of 17 year old boys on prom night.
Let's just say it was high. Leaking still-shots days before on
her beautifully curated Instagram feed, Solange
gave us jolts of monochromatic and botanic electricity.
What was presented can not be digested through reading,
only consumed through watching for oneself.
The impeccably styled visuals
feature black men and women appearing
more regal and desirable than ever.
Far gone are the images of the stereotypes or the over-sexualization of
black women. It taps into the norm and the stripped down beauty.
(Surprise! we don't all randomly twerk in the grocery store)
The men, were firmly present, yet not "hard or coarse" as they
are typically depicted.
(Surprise Again! Not every black man is a gun toting gangsta!)
If you have yet to listen to the album,
I strongly encourage you to do your soul some good
and treat yourself
to a masterfully produce bit of music.
Your senses will thank you.
Until next time...