Module: HST5383 Music and Social Change in Modern Britain
By: Ella Falk
The history of music and race in modern Britain is best characterised as one of continuity. Music in modern Britain always occurred within the context of the white host culture, which exerted considerable influence.[1] This influence continuously permeated society in the form of minstrelsy, stereotypes, fear and appropriation. These factors consistently affected the relationship between music and race from the eighteenth to twentieth centuries.
Blackface minstrelsy in modern Britain was hugely popular and embraced from the moment Thomas ‘daddy’ Rice first travelled from New York to dance ‘Jim Crow’ in London in 1836.[2] Minstrel shows blended comedy and pathos, alongside representing Black people as naturally self-indulgent, lazy, carefree, intemperate, undignified and vain.[3] Historian Michael Pickering is right to point out how these pleasures of popular culture ‘are deeply informed by historically conditioned social and psychological dispositions.’[4] This stereotype and characterisation in musical performance sat within the context of the development of nineteenth century race theory. Work such as Robert Knox’s The Races of Men (1850) typifies this construct as race is promoted as the determinant of culture, behaviour and character.[5] Indoctrinating society with racial theory was essential for the justification of Britain’s global policy. Historian Patrick McDevitt explains that blackness in British society was therefore ‘perceived as a symbol of moral, intellectual and cultural inferiority.’[6] This is important for understanding the history of music and race in Britain as the effects of this permeated society for centuries and informed musical performance. Historian Michael Pickering rightfully urges us to engage seriously with blackface minstrelsy, and points out how ‘the project of writing back against the grain of an imperialist and Social Darwinian pattern of thinking can easily induce an historical myopia, a condition that can be just as sophistical in effect as was the ethnocentrism of our Victorian predecessors.’[7] The British Broadcasting Corporation continued to broadcast the Black and White Minstrel Show up until 1978.[8] This illustrates the importance of Pickering’s argument as it emphasises how close some Victorian ideals are, and how they are sustained. Racist musical performance, in the form of blackface minstrelsy, was therefore persistent in modern Britain.
Stereotypes were also persistent in the history of music and race in modern Britain. As quoted by Pickering in Acts of Supremacy, the psychologist Gordon Allport defined the stereotype as ‘an exaggerated belief associated with a category. Its function is to justify (rationalise) our conduct in relation to that category.’[9] The most famous black entertainers to visit Britain in the nineteenth century were the Fisk Jubilee Singers in 1873.[10] In The Porcupine, a reviewer, wrote ‘in these real negroes we fail to discover, in any remarkable degree, the manifestation of those qualities which have made negro minstrelsy so very popular in England.’[11] Black musicians were always assessed against preconceived stereotypes and pigeonholed. Pickering reminds us that from minstrelsy through ragtime, jazz, boogie to rhythm and blues and onwards, Black people have been venerated for their ‘spontaneity, emotional expressivity, sensuous physicality, dynamic rhythm and cultural ‘authenticity’’ and reviled for their allegedly degenerative influence, jungle rhythms, hot music and sinful exhibitionism.[12] Moreover, these incessant oppositions ‘derive particularly from the set of negative and positive stereotypes crystallised during the Victorian period,’ and arose from the ‘conflicts within the society that has constructed and reproduced them.’[13]
Historian Catherine Parsonage argues that the positive reception of black jazz musicians in Britain, such as the trumpeter Leslie Thompson in 1929, show us how ‘Black musicians could now transcend the stereotypes that were the legacy of blackface entertainment and their music could be appreciated seriously.’[14] Although Black jazz musicians in the twentieth century undeniably debunked many stereotypes of minstrelsy applied to them, they were not transcended. Stereotypes operate in relation to social needs and conditions, which change.[15] Black jazz musicians simply adhered to fresh stereotypes such as incessant and natural musicality. The swift application of stereotypes to Black musicians in Britain pervaded throughout the nineteenth and twentieth centuries and was often essential for success.
Many Black musicians therefore had to consistently yield to stereotypes for their own commercial survival in Britain.[16] The success of Osibisa in 1971, a Black British Afrobeat band, was fuelled by the efficiency of African stereotypes in popular culture.[17] The band drew upon the stereotype of rhythm and happiness and used the slogan ‘Criss-Cross Rhythms that Explode with Happiness,’ in order to promote their first album.[18] In a 1983 interview with the UK music weekly NME, Lee John of the band Imagination said ‘we’re either supposed to be very ethnic and into reggae or into jazz funk. We either should be talking about love or politics – they always want to put you on that shelf.’[19] Mykaell Riley, a music producer and member of Steel Pulse, said that when producing for Black British artists in the 1990s, ‘my primary goal was to make them ‘radio friendly’, that is, not to sound too Black.’[20] Stereotyping and pigeonholing was of course applied to all ‘races’ and genders in the British music industry, but manifested differently and uniquely for Black musicians. These examples convey how music in modern Britain consistently depended on, and was judged according to, racial stereotypes.
James Baldwin wrote in his essay The Black Boy Looks at the White Boy that admiration and reinforcement of stereotype are often not far apart.[21] Pickering suggests that minstrelsy’s comic sentimentalist representations made Black people familiar where empirically they were relatively unknown.[22] This, he argues, resulted in obsessive interest and conflicting oscillations between fear and delight.[23] Responses of fear and delight towards Black musicians were consistent in Britain from the eighteenth to twentieth centuries. The convention of black servants increased in the eighteenth century.[24] Some servants had musical tutelage and their appeal, in this regard, to the English gentry and aristocracy was inseparable from their ethnicity.[25] George Bridgetower’s immaculate skill as a violinist added to his status as a Black child prodigy.[26] Bridgetower performed to large and sometimes record-breaking audiences in London, Bath and Bristol in 1789.[27] British audiences were astonished, curious and saw ‘the frisson of an extreme unlikelihood disproved.’[28] Fear and commendation, although present, were not as strong in the late eighteenth century in comparison to the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, as the image of Black people had not yet hardened into the antithesis of the English gentlemen.[29] The second half of the nineteenth century, and particularly from the 1860s, was when ‘gentlemen of colour’ became a contradiction in terms and only white skin could ensure the true mark of a gentlemen, as pessimistic racial theories popularised.[30] This change is relevant to the hardening of negative perceptions of Black musicians in modern Britain. Historian Jon Stratton writes that there was resistance to hot jazz in the 1920s, swing in the 1930s and rock ‘n’ roll in the 1950s, by the musical establishment on the grounds that ‘Black music was dangerous; that it would infect the white race with its open eroticism and its association with illegal and narcotic drugs.’[31] Historian Hilary Moore valuably reminds us that ‘until the 1980s, playing jazz remained an expellable offence in some of London’s music conservatoires, true bastions for the reproduction and perpetuation of European culture. Such a ban indicates just how threatening jazz’s influence was believed to be.’[32] This conveys how fear, as well as delight, was continuous in the history of music and race in modern Britain, although at different levels from the eighteenth to twentieth centuries.
A discourse of fear around immigration increased in the second half of the twentieth century due to more immigration and race riots. For example, in 1956 in Nottingham a riot culminated against the Black population of the city, and in London in 1958 there was escalating violence against West Indians in Notting Hill.[33] Enoch Powell gave his notorious anti-immigration ‘Rivers of Blood’ speech in 1968. Gallup calculated the percentage of the population in agreement with Powell at sixty-seven percent.[34] In 1976, on stage at a concert in Birmingham, Eric Clapton said ‘I think Enoch’s right, I think we should send them all back. Stop Britain becoming a Black colony.’[35] In 1974 Clapton had a UK number nine hit with a cover of Bob Marley’s ‘I Shot the Sheriff.’[36] ‘Black’ music is commonly appropriated in modern Britain. The minstrel historian, Harry Reynolds, wrote in the 1920s that ‘white men gradually replaced all the coloured men, as the public seemed to prefer the imitation nigger.’[37] The Original Dixieland Jazz Band, a white jazz band hailing from America, achieved success upon their arrival in Britain in 1919.[38] The band established an image of authenticity and billed themselves as ‘the creators of jazz.’[39] Tim Taylor’s explanation of the reception of ‘new’ or non-western music to the music industry in the 1990s is useful.[40] As quoted by Moore, Taylor explains that ‘when music’s sound and cultural context seem ‘alien’ or ‘exotic’ to a new audience, often an intermediary is required, as though the music, taken out of its original context cannot be presented without a western interpreter or guide who is master.’[41] This is applicable to instances of appropriation across the period. This theme in modern Britain is significant because it has silenced the contributions that Black musicians have made to music.
Stratton’s analysis of ska’s revival and appropriation in modern Britain is poor. Stratton argues that ska was linked to the past and ‘a time when black people were more conciliatory and accepting of the racist order,’ and that therefore white nostalgia for simpler, safer time fuelled the ska revival.[42] Stratton concludes that the ska-punk-alliance ended with ‘Ghost Town’ in 1981 when it ‘could no longer provide a nostalgic escape for white British youth.’[43] This is unfounded. British ‘youth’ were not alive in this ‘simpler, safer time,’ so a mass nostalgia for a time that people didn’t know fuelling an entire new genre is unfeasible. Moreover, ska and punk fans were geographically widespread and varied in knowledge and outlook. There were fans with no proximity to riots, as well as people with no understanding or knowledge of ska’s roots. Historian Simon Reynold’s analysis of ska’s revival is much more sophisticated, as Reynold’s says that the ska revival ‘ultimately defined its own epoch.’[44] When comparing appropriation from different periods, we should be careful to avoid ahistorical conflation, and should acknowledge new musical movements and differences.
This essay has shown how music can be an oral sign of racial hierarchies.[45] There is little continuity and immense variation of the music by people racialised as Black as well as fresh ‘genres’ performed, and influenced by, all ‘races’ in modern Britain. But the relationship between music and race is best characterised as one of continuity as it is tied to racial theory which continues to structure society today. In conclusion, minstrelsy, stereotypes, fear, and appropriation, rooted in racial theory, continuously shaped the history of music and race in modern Britain.
Footnotes
[1] Michael Pickering, ‘’A Jet Ornament to Society’: Black Music in Nineteenth-Century Britain’, in Black Music in Britain: Essays on the Afro-Asian Contribution to Popular Music, ed. by Paul Oliver (Milton Keynes and Philadelphia: Open University Press, 1990), p. 16. [2] Simon Featherstone, ‘The Blackface Atlantic: Interpreting British Minstrelsy’, Journal of Victorian Culture, 3 (1998), 234-241 (p. 236). [3] Michael Pickering, ‘Mock Blacks and Racial Mockery: The “N****r” Minstrel and British Imperialism’, in Acts of Supremacy: The British Empire and the Stage 1790-1930, ed. by J.S Bratton et al (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1991), p. 202. [4] Ibid, p. 182. [5] Robert Knox, The Races of Men, (USA: General Books, 1850) p. 5. [6] Hilary Moore, Inside British Jazz: Crossing Borders of Race, Nation and Class (London: Routledge, 2007), p. 10. [7] Pickering, ‘Mock Blacks and Racial Mockery’ p. 190. [8] Dr David Kennerley, ‘Wicked Noises’, HST5383: Music and Social Change in Modern Britain. Queen Mary University of London. February 2020. [9] Pickering, ‘Mock Blacks and Racial Mockery’ p. 193. [10] Featherstone, pp.234-241 (p. 240). [11] Ibid, p. 241. [12] Pickering, ‘Mock Blacks and Racial Mockery’ p. 205. [13] Ibid, pp. 205-206. [14] Catherine Parsonage, ‘Fascination and Fear: Responses to Early Jazz in Britain’, in Cross the Water Blues: African American Music in Europe, ed. by Neil A. Wynn (Jackson: University Press of Mississippi, 2007), p. 102. [15] Pickering, ‘Mock Blacks and Racial Mockery’ p. 193. [16] Catherine Parsonage, ‘A Critical Reassessment of the Reception of Early Jazz in Britain’, Popular Music, 22:3 (2003), 315-336 (p. 333). [17] Markus Coester, ‘Revisiting Britain’s ‘Afro Trend’ of the 1960s and 1970s: Musical Journeys, Fusions and African Stereotypes’, in Black Popular Music in Britain since 1945, ed. by Jon Stratton and Nabeel Zuberi (London: Routledge, 2014), p. 61. [18] Ibid, p. 60. [19] Ibid, p. 77. [20] Mykaell Riley, ‘Bass Culture: An Alternative Soundtrack to Britishness’, in Black Popular Music in Britain since 1945, ed. by Jon Stratton and Nabeel Zuberi (London: Routledge, 2014), p. 110. [21] Ingrid Monson, ‘The Problem with White Hipness: Race, Gender, and Cultural Conceptions in Jazz’, Journal of American Musicological Society, 48:3 (1995), 396-422 (p. 411). [22] Pickering, ‘Mock Blacks and Racial Mockery’ p. 231. [23] Ibid. [24] Pickering, ‘A Jet Ornament to Society’ p. 22. [25] Ibid. [26] Ibid. [27] Ibid. [28] Ibid. [29] Ibid. [30] Ibid. [31] Jon Stratton, ‘Melting Pot: The Making of Black British Music in the 1950s and 1960s’ in Black Popular Music in Britain since 1945, ed. by Jon Stratton and Nabeel Zuberi (London: Routledge, 2014), p. 29. [32] Moore, p. 18. [33] Ibid, p. 29. [34] Amy Whipple, ‘Revisiting the “Rivers of Blood” Controversy: Letters to Enoch Powell’, Journal of British Studies, 48 (2009), 717-735 (p. 717-18). [35] Jon Stratton, ‘Melting Pot’ p. 29. [36] Ibid, p. 30. [37] Featherstone, pp. 234-241 (p. 240). [38] Parsonage, Popular Music, 315-336 (p. 315). [39] Ibid, p. 324. [40] Ibid, p. 14. [41] Ibid. [42] Jon Stratton, When Music Migrates: Crossing British and European Racial Faultlines 1945-2010, (London: Routledge, 2014), pp. 127-143. [43] Ibid, pp. 144-145. [44] Simon Reynolds, Rip It Up and Start Again: Post-punk 1978-1984, (London: Faber & Faber, 2005), p. 303. [45] Dr David Kennerley, ‘Wicked Noises’, HST5383: Music and Social Change in Modern Britain. Queen Mary University of London. February 2020.
Bibliography
Coester, Markus, ‘Revisiting Britain’s ‘Afro Trend’ of the 1960s and 1970s: Musical Journeys, Fusions and African Stereotypes’, in Black Popular Music in Britain since 1945, ed. by Jon Stratton and Nabeel Zuberi (London: Routledge, 2014), pp. 47-65
Featherstone, Simon, ‘The Blackface Atlantic: Interpreting British Minstrelsy’, Journal of Victorian Culture, 3 (1998), 234-241
Kennerley, David, ‘Wicked Noises’, HST5383: Music and Social Change in Modern Britain. Queen Mary University of London. February 2020
Knox, Robert, The Races of Men, (USA: General Books, 1850)
Monson, Ingrid, ‘The Problem with White Hipness: Race, Gender, and Cultural Conceptions in Jazz’, Journal of American Musicological Society, 48:3 (1995), 396-422
Moore, Hilary, Inside British Jazz: Crossing Borders of Race, Nation and Class (London: Routledge, 2007)
Parsonage, Catherine ‘A Critical Reassessment of the Reception of Early Jazz in Britain’, Popular Music, 22:3 (2003), 315-336
-- 2007 ‘Fascination and Fear: Responses to Early Jazz in Britain’, in Cross the Water Blues: African American Music in Europe, ed. by Neil A. Wynn (Jackson: University Press of Mississippi) pp. 89-105
Pickering, Michael, ‘’A Jet Ornament to Society’: Black Music in Nineteenth-Century Britain’, in Black Music in Britain: Essays on the Afro-Asian Contribution to Popular Music, ed. by Paul Oliver (Milton Keynes and Philadelphia: Open University Press, 1990) pp. 16-33
-- 1991 ‘Mock Blacks and Racial Mockery: The “N****r” Minstrel and British Imperialism’, in Acts of Supremacy: The British Empire and the Stage 1790-1930, ed. by J.S Bratton et al (Machester: Manchester University Press), pp. 179-232
--- 2008 Blackface Minstrelsy in Britain (Farnham: Ashgate)
Reynolds, Simon, Rip It Up and Start Again: Post-punk 1978-1984, (London: Faber & Faber, 2005)
Riley, Mykaell, ‘Bass Culture: An Alternative Soundtrack to Britishness’, in Black Popular Music in Britain since 1945, ed. by Jon Stratton and Nabeel Zuberi (London: Routledge, 2014), pp. 101-114
Stratton, Jon, ‘Melting Pot: The Making of Black British Music in the 1950s and 1960s’ in Black Popular Music in Britain since 1945, ed. by Jon Stratton and Nabeel Zuberi (London: Routledge, 2014), pp. 27-45
-- 2014 When Music Migrates: Crossing British and European Racial Faultlines 1945-2010, (London: Routledge)
Whipple, Amy, ‘Revisiting the “Rivers of Blood” Controversy: Letters to Enoch Powell’, Journal of British Studies, 48 (2009), 717-735
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