Didn't We Almost Have It All?

Not long ago, I saw this picture posted on social media of Madam Vice President Kamala Harris with her husband Doug Emhoff, captured in a light-hearted and loving pose. I don't know if this was a recent photo, but the caption was America fumbled so hard, an allusion to the reality that we could have elected someone decent to be our next President. Suddenly, as if there was a radio playing in the background, I began to hear the instrumental intro to Whitney Houston's song and got a little misty. A montage of scenes from the 107 days replayed in my head. I thought back to how upbeat and excited I was on Election Day and how I still believed we were going to win, despite the odds. 

Then like an old school record scratch...

I can't even wrap my mind around the Return of the DESPOTUS 2.0: Four More Years of Daily Fuckery. The White House now an unmistakable Big Top Circus Tent, soon to be occupied by P.T. Barnum reincarnated, who will launch a second season of the Worst Shitshow on Earth. 

When I knew I was finally ready to write about Kamala Harris' defeat, my intent was to compare her loss to the situation I describe here. Because I am clear that a major reason she lost was because she was so formidable--too much for people to feel comfortable with her, in spite of everything else that we knew about the Joker. But my thoughts got too bogged down and unfocused, so instead of wrestling with something unwieldy, thereby running the risk of succumbing to never making my point, I split the baby. 

We could have had it all, America. But y'all gave it away for $1 rebate per gallon of gas.

Twice now, we have elected the worst possible example of humanity to be the American President. He and every Alpha boy he chooses to serve in his harem, from James David the Manchurian understudy to Master Robert the Bear-Eater to the guy whose own mother used to be ashamed of him--these are the people whom America believed were the better choices. The world will tolerate a rapist, a racist, a grifter, a conman, an adulterer, a liar, a cheat, and even a fascist, but it just cannot abide a woman who is unafraid to be her unapologetic, fearless self. 

If you look back at various points throughout human history, women who refused to be minimized by what society deemed acceptable were denounced, rejected, ostracized, abused, called everything but a child of God, and sometimes killed. Centuries later and y'all still refer to Mary Magdeline a prostitute; yet, before his conversion and his name was still Saul how many Christians did he persecute and imprison as opposed to the number of men who allegedly paid her for sex? All manner of men are rewarded, revered, and redeemed in spite of a multitude of sins: feudal Lords, imperial plunderers and pirates, Founding Fathers, Confederate politicians, Gilded Age robber barons, Jim Crow philanderers, the tech bazillionaires, and now once again, Donald Effing Trump. As he infamously said, he could shoot someone on Fifth Avenue and get away with his crimes...and now 77 million voters have proven him right.

We could have had the country that we promote to the world as the beacon of light and hope. But in a democracy the voters get to make grave mistakes as well as inspired choices, so here we are, preparing for another dreary ride to the cemetery...

A month later, and I'm not much interested in the other post-election assessments of why we're here right now. Surely there were campaign mistakes and missteps (because she only had 107 days), but bottom line some voters were either ambivalent about the return of Trump or hellbent against seeing this Black woman just walk into the Oval Office without proving she deserved to be there. Never mind the fact that Kamala Harris had already earned that right when she was elected to be the Vice President in 2020, but apparently that wasn't enough. She should have gone through a bruising primary process at the 11th hour once the big money donors and political operatives lost faith in President Joe Biden. We should have repeated the very same mistake that was made in 1968 when President Lyndon Johnson decided not to seek the nomination.

Well, now we have a 1968 remix. Only this time, we have re-elected a person 10 times worse than Richard Nixon--a verifiable crook, all because some of you were determined to chasten women who have the temerity to declare that we can be anything, including Leaders of the Free World. 

If you still want to argue that sexism and racism don't make one helluva team, just wait until Calamuary 2025 (yep, that term is here to stay). Anyone who is urging calm or to wait and see is probably not worried because they know they will be fine either way. Offended, upset, and maybe even a little more than annoyed, but definitely not endangered or under threat of the retribution. I hope you enjoyed the long-awaited Thanksgiving reconciliation with your estranged brother and family. I'm sure his trad wife's pumpkin pie was delicious.

I believed with my entire heart and soul that Kamala Harris could have won this election, even as I suspected that Trump had become way too confident in the final stretch. It was quixotic for sure, and I allowed myself to get caught up in the rapture of possibility. My bad for forgetting that this country will break your heart. However, I refuse to feel anything but pride for what Kamala Harris tried to do, because dammit, what else was she supposed to do? Just let y'all act like she was invisible, throw away everything she and Biden accomplished in the past four years, and NOT stand up for the rule of law she vowed to protect and defend her entire career??? GTFOOHWTBS!

Right before Eli Pope infamously reminds his daughter Olivia (and all of us) that she has to be twice as good to attain half as much, he admonishes her for pinning her hopes on becoming First Lady. Because why work that hard just to be photographed wearing nice clothes? Of course, the irony is that Kamala Harris did exactly the opposite--she set her sights on the ultimate prize and got punished for not settling.

She made the case that she was ready, and she inspired millions of people to get out in these streets to try to salvage some semblance of what this country purports to represent to the world. That a bunch of billionaire good ole boys had the mean$ to thwart our hopes wasn't entirely unforeseeable, just profoundly disappointing. And typical. I will never concede that that they won this election fair and square, because they spent enough money and effort at re-writing every rule to ensure that they won. Their victory, celebrated in the form of taunts and trolls and every single Cabinet pick, has been intended remind us that they had every advantage and exploited every vulnerability, on their dime but at our expense. 

Exhibit A: Reneging at Spades

How was it even possible that a man whose documented history of racism and sexism was able to turn this election into a referendum on Blackness by using sexism??? From dredging up her past romantic entanglements to misrepresenting her record as a prosecutor to mispronouncing her name and even questioning whether she ever worked at McDonalds, he even had folks on Blue Ivy's internet arguing about how she cooks her collard greens...

Once he had folks fighting at the summer barbecue, his next great trick was to exude so much confidence that he could make inroads and gain the support of disaffected Black men, in spite of their historic loyalty to the Democratic Party. For the past several election cycles, Black women have been touted as the base of the party and rewarded as such with high profile and visible positions. The elevation of individual Black women in political discourse was then framed as yet another advance that has occurred at the expense of Black men overall, despite the fact that there are still more men in positions of influence and power such as James Clyburn, Hakeem Jeffries, Rev. Al Sharpton, Wes Moore, and Barack Obama. 

We have always been clear about the ideological diversity within the Black community, so the shock isn't that there were Black men who supported a return of the Chaos King. It's that some of the most vocal Trumplogytes, like Mark Robinson (R-NC) and Royce White (R-MN), crapped out and have nothing to show for their loyalty, not even a Black job. The others who didn't go quite as far will likely see some personal reward, but at what expense to the rest of us? How much of the Trump prosperity hustle will trickle down to our communities? Enough to buy some sneakers, a Cybertruck, or just a carton of eggs?

Exhibit B: Cat-Fights Over Public Bathrooms

Can you imagine the kind of mental gymnastics it takes to consider a public restroom as a "sacred" space? The same place where you can get a communicable disease from washing your hands. Those 55 percent women are so smart as to allow a man who shits on his own private gold toilet...better yet, the man who bought a beauty pageant so that he could leer at underage girls to convince them that he will be their Protector, whether they like it or not.

If it wasn't clear before that we didn't pledge the same sorority, we sure know that now. 

You've got to hand it to those smart Handmaidens of Patriarchy--the wives, mothers, and daughters who dutifully follow the roadmap of expectations and guidelines that allow some women (not all) to aspire just beyond the realm of what is acceptable. Women who may have jobs and careers, even as high as the rank of being a Governor or a Senator as long as they represent and articulate the values that men proscribe AND make sure dinner is on the table by 6pm every night. 

Contrast their success with that of those smart-assed women who decide on their own, without male permission or approval, to make choices for themselves. Women who did not get married to their high school sweethearts or first college boyfriends, who don't prioritize motherhood over careers, or who have the nerve to call themselves feminists--they represent the kind of moxie that is too disruptive to the Old World order of things. What kind of world would we have if women keep demanding access to previously exclusive male enclaves, like the Supreme Court, church pulpits, C-Suites, and the Oval Office? 

One with gender-neutral bathrooms.

Exhibit C: Knowing is Half the Battle

In spite of how much this loss still hurts, I want it to be known that I DO NOT have regrets. I have gripes and justified rage because we shouldn't be here licking our wounds and questioning who we are. I know who I am, what I believe, and why I voted the way I did. That shouldn't be in doubt--it's those other people whom we need to redefine and see more clearly. 

Thus, let's take the advice Mother Maya Angelou gave us to heart--when people show you who they are, believe them the first time. That applies to Trump, but more importantly to the people who voted for him again, some for the third time. They knew what he was and voted for him in the hopes that he will do EVERYTHING he promised them. Let's accept that the people who proudly wave Confederate flags, who were willing to violently overthrow an election, and who are giving millions to celebrate the return Emperor Conmani Grifticus--they have shown us who and what they are, so we need not waste time or energy expecting anything better from them. 

They will never be moved by the pain endured by others either because they profit from it or are shielded from its effects. What does it matter to them if police officers can harass Black and Latino men with impunity as long as their gated cul-de-sacs remain safe? We live in food deserts and have little to no economic investment in our communities, but they don't, never will and they are fine with that. If they don't want their children to go to school with ours, they can convene at the local coffee shop after morning drop-off to strategize about how to trick us into diverting our tax dollars into funding their private schools.

To that end, we need to stop lying to ourselves that all Americans want the same things. We don't. I don't want sundown towns, mass deportations, or laws that track our daughters' menstrual cycles. I wasn't looking for the annihilation of those with whom I disagree, just some compassion, empathy, justice, or a semblance of common decency. I wanted to dismantle the systems of oppression that have historically denied opportunities to the marginalized. I never expressed any desire that others should suffer, not even a fraction of what has been wished upon me...

Still reluctant to admit who and what we are facing? Still holding out hope that we can appeal to the better angels of people who claim that American greatness is best exhibited by cruelty? From the same people who heard the stories about dead mothers who were denied life-saving health care and didn't shed a single tear? By the fanatics who happily waved signs that read Mass Deportation Now and will cheer when people are rounded up and families ripped apart? Unity with the folks who felt more inconvenienced by a global COVID pandemic and ignored the AIDS epidemic because it wasn't their problem? Ditto for famine, climate change, lead water pipes, or the strategic placement of power lines near communities that result in childhood cancer clusters. Are you that blind to their depravity?

Before you launch into a self-righteous lecture on tolerance, don't. Take that nonsense to Twitter. These are not simple differences of opinion; they are irreconcilable--the kind that place people's lives in danger. Those people aren't looking to live together in perfect harmony. They want to make us feel demoralized, conquered...so any and every suggestion of appeasement or conciliation is bullshit. Some of these capitulators are the same folks who wanted a contested convention, so we need to be clear about them as well. 

This wasn't an American Idol finale. Some of us just can't get over the result and move on as if everything will be fine. Until and unless you accept that there are clear lines between good and evil, then we cannot reassemble this fractured coalition. Because right now, if you are advocating a strategy of if you can't beat them, you will join them, then you have told me where you stand at times of challenge and controversy...on the sidelines waiting to see who emerges victorious. 

Having spent a month in reflection and rest, I still lament what we could have had by electing Kamala Harris. But it's above me now. As another Whitney Houston song begins to play in my head, I have to focus on the future. I've spent nine months mourning my Mom. I don't plan to spend the rest of my life mourning this country. I can't guarantee that I won't get caught up in my feelings every now and then, but I've got shit to do. 

Stay tuned.

Fear of a Black Princess

I'm still writing the piece from my adventures at Walt Disney World and another piece about Meghan Markle (that I started before the Queen died, so revisions are underway) and yet more unfinished pieces about several other topics that I hope to publish before the end of the year.

But I felt compelled to weigh in with a little extra emphasis on a topic that has been upsetting a bunch of folks on social media regarding the recasting of The Little Mermaid with actress Halle Bailey. Because y'all really need to chill.

I get it. You grew up with the original movie and loved Ariel because of her red hair. You saw yourself in a girl that was half fish whose best friend was another fish named Flounder. You understood exactly how frustrating it was to be followed around by a meddling Jamaican nanny crab named Sebastien. In your youthful naiveté, you too struck a Faustian deal with your Dad's nemesis in order to run away with some dude whom you hadn't actually met, because adolescent love at first sight always works out. 

Having just visited the Magic Kingdom this summer, here are a few things you ought to know about your beloved princess. It pains me to inform you that Ariel went back to being a mermaid, so I'm not sure that things worked out with Prince Eric. I didn't see her featured in the midday parade, but I did see where she and Flounder have settled into a nice grotto in the Fantasyland section of the park, which must be the retirement community for forgotten characters. I offered to stand on line, but the girls were uninterested in stopping in for a visit, so I can't say if Ariel is actually a red-headed mermaid or if she was just some girl wearing a Wonderbra, a fish tail, and a wig.

So let's dispense with all of the wailing and moaning about how much you loved the original character. Of course you did, as did I more than 30 years ago when the film debuted. I was in high school, but I had a baby cousin, so when the movie was released on VHS, we bought it to watch with her. Something I learned then from babysitting (but forgot when my own daughter was born) was that little kids can watch the same movies and TV shows over and over and over. Therefore, for a time, Ariel was on a constant loop until other movies came out. Eventually she was replaced by Belle from Beauty and the Beast (1991), Jasmine from Aladdin (1992), and so on. Clearly, Ariel set the mold for the thoroughly modern 90s heroines, as the drama centered on her pursuit of happiness instead of being thrust into some calamity and having to wait to be rescued by some random hero. 

Yet, when Disney re-branded their modern animated heroines as Princesses in the mid 2000s, Ariel was not chosen as the Queen Bee. Disney went back to its vaults to tap their classics: Cinderella, Snow White, and Aurora (blonde in pink from Sleeping Beauty). They promoted Belle (yellow) to a princess even though that's not how her story ended, and it was the four of them who were the original faces of the campaign. The nonwhite princesses like Jasmine and Tiana appeared in the supplemental marketing. Mulan, who had also not been a princess in her story, was featured on the side, along with Ariel who appeared in her human form. In some marketing, they included Pocahantas, and eventually other heroines were invited to join the lineup, including Merida (Brave), Rapunzel (Tangled), and Moana. Of course, when Frozen came out in 2013, it was all about Elsa and Anna.

You can call it a slap in the face to all of the ginger girls who were annoyed that blondes had more fun (even though Anna and Merida both have red hair). Or you can call it a shrewd marketing gimmick to entice middle-class Black mothers into buying more princess crap. But to deride this reboot as "woke" is how, colloquially, I know you effing lying! Are you seriously out here on Blue Ivy's internet whining about the original intent of a centuries old fairy tale that didn't even end with the "princess" finding her happily ever after because she dissolved into seafoam?

Okay Jan.

I won't go into all of the ways you look and sound ridiculous, but if some of y'all really started a white Christian nationalist Facebook group to protest the film, I honestly can't waste the bandwidth to explore how pathetic that is. I also will not gush too much about how precious it was to see the TikTok compilation videos of all the little girls who were in awe after seeing the trailer, because it might trigger my Fall allergies. But I will point out how one little girl asked if that was Whitney Houston, and yes, that really did touch my Maleficent heart!

My 7 year-old daughter will probably be just as enthralled by Halle Bailey in this movie as she was a few weeks ago when she saw Brandy in the 1997 production of Cinderella (and actually saw the late Whitney Houston in action as the fairy godmother). My daughter was also quite taken by Camila Cabello in her 2021 adaptation of Cinderella. She loves watching The Wizard of Oz (1939), The Wiz (1978) as well as Oz the Great and Powerful (2013). When she watched the upcoming Mermaid trailer, her reaction was the same as the others that have been shared. And you wanna know why?

BECAUSE SHE IS A KID! What did I say about them watching their favorite stuff on repeat a few paragraphs ago? I'm guessing that the unicorn phase we're in now will give way to a mermaid phase next year. And once she finds out that her favorite uncle Lin-Manuel Miranda contributed to the soundtrack...

As a former little Black girl who grew up with NO representations of Black princesses, fairies, superheroines, or space aliens, I have to question the sincerity of all you so-called purists. Anybody old enough to complain about having grown up on the original movie hasn't been a child for quite some time. Which is the reason for the reboot--y'all are in your 30s! I am almost 50. Thus, in my best impression of Leon inhabiting the spirit of David Ruffin--ain't NOBODY making pilgrimages to Walt Disney World to see a middle-aged mermaid sitting in a cave singing to her pet fish!

Disney tapped Halle Bailey because she's an It-girl. She's also very talented and beautiful. In the past when they've cast actresses for live-action versions of their movies and televised specials, they sprinkled their fairy dust on the likes of Julie Andrews, Mary Martin, Leslie Ann Warren, Sandy Duncan, Cathy Rigby, Hillary Duff, Lindsey Lohan, Kiera Knightley, and Anne Hathaway. I bet you didn't even question the logic of casting grown women to portray the boy who never grew up (Peter Pan), but let's not conflate issues here. The point is that you never raised an eyebrow when all of those white women got opportunities to become major stars. In fact, never in my lifetime have I heard where some white actor declined a role in an all-white production on the grounds that there was not enough diversity. Y'all barely took notice when a trending hashtag called out the disparities. 

A better argument is the call for Disney to produce more original stories with nonwhite leads, and you'll get no pushback from me on that. The success of animated films like Coco (2017) and Encanto (2021) support that very point. It would have been great if that had become the norm when The Princess Diaries was introduced 20 years ago. Whitney Houston was one of the executive producers, Shonda Rhimes wrote the sequel, and perhaps if they could have convinced the powers that be to cast a young up-and-coming Black actress instead of Anne Hathaway, this debate might not be happening. I would have loved for Patti LaBelle to have been Kyla Pratt's royal grandmother. Looking back on that era, it was a big deal for Pratt to star in her own cartoon as Penny Proud.

But this isn't an either/or demand for opportunity since calls for more diversity and representation pre-date the election of a Black President, a social media hashtag, and the protests after the death of George Floyd. This is a struggle that has been ongoing since before the original Little Mermaid film debuted in 1989. If it can be called progress that it took more than a decade to go from Brandy as Cinderella in 1997 to get to Princess Tiana in 2009 and then almost another 15 years to get to a Black mermaid in 2023, then this visceral backlash is exactly what we say it is. Because what else describes booshay like this and this 'fixed' trailer and this horrible picture?

Yeah, your racist slips are showing. 

The world is changing, and I guess it has been quite the culture shock to realize that whiteness is no longer the standard by which everything else is measured. How awful must it be for your daughters to go to the Disney store and have their costume choices include Tiana, Moana, Mulan, and Rapunzel instead of being limited to the classic four princesses. However will your darlings cope with the realization that anyone can be a Princess (and again, I will simply mention that I will have a lot more to say about Meghan Markle in the coming weeks), but yeah, especially if you marry the right Prince?

As for your false equivalencies and double standards, those arguments are trash and you know it. Do you honestly think it would be "fair" to cast Carrie Underwood as Princess Tiana in some implausible live action version of The Princess and the Frog because in the entire pantheon of the Disney characters, one was reimagined as Black? Is that how you win the fight against wokeness--by demanding that a story that was itself an adaptation written to give little Black girls a princess should be recast? And are you intent to stake your flag and die on the hill that mermaids are of European origin because those are the stories that were published? Really now, because it isn't like colonizers have never profited from the stuff they stole from other cultures...

Too soon? Well, that's okay because that is another conversation altogether and Mami Wata is definitely not some lovelorn teenager. 

Here is the bottom line: see the movie and judge it on the merits. Or don't see the movie, and blast it on social media because you're a racist or one of the former Disney cast members who spent half the day sitting alone in a cave hoping for a few visitors. Either way, inclusivity is not a fad, so I can't wait to see your reaction to the Latina Snow White.

Playlist Project: Babyface

It was not my intention to begin this playlist with a reference to the much ballyhooed producer showdown between our playlist honoree and fellow super-producer Teddy Riley, but that elephant is still in the room so there's that! I also thought that folks might appreciate a perspective on why Babyface might not be all that bothered if this never happens again...and honestly, I don't know how recovered I will be come October when it will be Riley's birthday.

(Well, the battle went down on Monday night while I was still writing, so I'll be sure to weigh in with my thoughts when this posts.)

To be clear, this piece is not about that Saturday night fiasco (I'll leave it to others to deconstruct), but there is a point to be made about the different styles each producer brought to the 90s music scene. Riley brings the flashy New Jack Swing while Kenny "Babyface" Edmonds brings his version of the more laid back Quiet Storm. The great thing about music is that one can be a fan of both approaches, so let's celebrate Mr. Edmonds, born April 10, for his musical contributions as both a performer and producer.

Of course, whenever I begin to research these artists, I learn SO much. For the Facebook playlist, I barely scratched the surface by only focusing on songs that feature Babyface the singer. To my knowledge at the time, that began with I Love You Babe (1986), from his first solo album, Lovers.

What I didn't know was that he had been with The Deele during that same time, so Lovers was a side project. (I also had no idea that prior to his time with The Deele, Babyface had been a member of a late 70s psychedelic funk group named Manchild...and wow, when this quarantine is over, guess who will be digging deep into her Daddy's crates because Face's song Funky Situation is exactly my Dad's kind of groove). Face joined the The Deele in 1981, so our formal review of his work begins with that era of his career. The first major hit that most of us remember from The Deele was Two Occasions (1988). However, they released two prior albums, beginning with Street Beat in 1983, where you can hear what would become classic Babyface arrangements and lyrics on Just My Luck. His name also appears on one other song from that album, Crazy 'Bout 'Cha, along with Antonio "LA" Reid, his long-time creative collaborator, who was the drummer for The Deele during that time.

With few exceptions, Face did not sing the lead and was often pictured in the back or off to the side with the other members of the group. Perhaps he was more interested in writing and producing, so he might have been content to stay in the background, much like another very talented and prolific songwriter and producer from the same era, Rod Temperton. On The Deele's second album, Material Thangz (1985), Face was credited as a writer on nearly all of the songs, and he sang lead on Sweet November (which would become a hit for the group Troop in 1992). Babyface clearly possessed the looks and the voice to be a solo artist, as evidenced on the Lovers project, but he appeared to lack the charisma to be a front man for a group. At least that is my impression; by the time he releases his second solo project, Tender Lover in 1989, the stars seem to be aligning differently.

Or possibly it could have been that Face was studying the business and preparing for musical domination...

While I was re-discovering pre-1988 The Deele, I noted how this modest dance hit Body Talk (1983) sounded exactly like the kind of filler song that would be played on Soul Train between music acts. Hearing that song again for the first time in years reminded me of Klymaxx's The Men All Pause which came out in 1984. That compelled me to look more closely at SOLAR Records, the label that distributed The Deele and Klymaxx, and that had been founded by Soul Train creator Don Cornelius and partner Dick Griffey in 1977. (I wrote a piece in the early days of this blog about my nostalgia for that show, so I will definitely revisit this topic for a future playlist.)

SOLAR was home to several groups that made regular appearances on Soul Train, so it wasn't just a random similarity of sound that caught my ear--there was a SOLAR sound as evidenced in songs such as: And the Beat Goes On (1979) and It's A Love Thing (1981) by the Whispers; Second Time Around (1979) and A Night to Remember (1982) by Shalamar; and Wet My Whistle (1983) and Freakazoid (1983) by Midnight Star. In that environment, LA Reid and Babyface honed their skills by working with their own group as well as their label-mates, producing Slow Jam (1983) for Midnight Star and Rock Steady (1987) for the Whispers.

That made this performance and interview with Don Cornelius all the more prophetic. The changes he noted with the group weren't just about their toned down stage presence and mellower sound. It was also evident in how Reid centered the conversation on his and Face's production partnership and their forthcoming work with various up and coming artists. The mere fact that The Deele performed as the back-up band for Pebbles on her song Girlfriend should have been a clue that we were witnessing the end.

What emerged was a new era of super-producers who had taken copious notes from the success of Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis, who had their own experience with the SOLAR sound. There were also personal ties--at the time, LA Reid was married to singer Perri "Pebbles" Reid and Terry Lewis would marry singer Karyn White in 1992. Both women found success thanks to their collaborations with Babyface, who recorded Love Saw It (1988) with White, and Love Makes Things Happen (1990) with Pebbles. In the space between the release of both of those albums, Face released Tender Lover (and these were my faves): Whip Appeal, Soon As I Get Home, and Sunshine. He also released A Closer Look (1991), a remix album that included his duets with Pebbles and Karyn White and the live version of Two Occasions.

The Babyface/Reid machine continued to churn out successful projects with other artists, so in some respects, Babyface music was what got released as the side project. To provide a representative sample of artists with whom Babyface worked, I started with Bobby Brown, who worked with Face and Reid on Don't Be Cruel (1988) and then primarily with Teddy Riley on Bobby (1992). Akin to drawing six degrees of separation, it was fascinating just to demonstrate how that Saturday night wasn't really a botched battle between rivals, but a comparison of notes... **

Face and Reid produced most of the songs, including Don't Be Cruel for Brown's second solo project, and also worked with Brown's future first wife, Whitney Houston on I'm Your Baby Tonight (1990). During that same time in 1990, Face produced songs for the solo projects of both Ralph Tresvant (Love Hurts) and Johnny Gill (My, My, My), both from New Edition (and all three singers appear on the others' solo projects). Face worked with Boys II Men on the megahit End of the Road (1992), who were discovered by Michael Bivens of New Edition and Bell Biv DeVoe. Face produced the soundtrack for Boomerang in 1992, which introduced us to Toni Braxton (Love Shoulda Brought You Home). Braxton and Face also performed Give You My Heart together for that same soundtrack. Face produced the Queen of the Night (1992) for Houston on the Bodyguard soundtrack (which does sound a LOT like Free Your Mind by En Vogue...released the same year). TLC was also featured on the Boomerang soundtrack on Reversal of a Dog, as well as Aaron Hall of Guy with Charlie Wilson of The GAP Band on It's Gonna Be Alright. Aaron Hall was in Riley's group Guy, so that brings us almost exactly within six degrees to Teddy Riley's work on Brown's third album, from which his most most memorable contribution was...Something In Common?

Even more impressive than that list of projects was how Face still managed to find time to release his own music. He released two studio albums in the 90s, For the Cool in 1993 which included: Never Keeping Secrets, And Our Feelings, and When Can I See You. From The Day, released in 1996, there was his cover of For the Lover in You, with LL Cool J and featured a reunion of the Hewitt/Watley/Daniels lineup of Shalamar, who had initially recorded the song in 1980. That album also included his duet with Mariah Carey on Everytime I Close My Eyes.

Face did more soundtrack work in between his album releases, most notably Waiting to Exhale in 1995 and Soul Food in 1997. On Waiting, he reunited with Houston for Shoop, Shoop; with Braxton for Let it Flow; and with TLC for This is How It Works. On Soul Food, he produced A Song for Mama, another big hit for Boys II Men, and he had a cameo as a member of the fictional group Milestone, which consisted of his brothers Kevon and Melvin of After 7, and K-Ci and Jo-Jo from Jodeci on the song I Care About You. A live version of that song was also featured on his MTV Unplugged album along with a cover of Eric Clapton's Change the World with thee Eric Clapton. He recorded a version of Fire with singer Des'ree for the 1997 independent film Hav Plenty (bonus points for anyone who knew that Bruce Springsteen wrote that song in 1977, but it was popularized by the Pointer Sisters in 1978). The duet he produced for Whitney Houston and Mariah Carey, When You Believe from The Prince of Egypt soundtrack, was performed at the Academy Awards in 1999, even though his version of the song was not nominated.

We haven't even addressed the work that Face produced in the 21st century. He released his fifth studio album in 2001, Face 2 Face, on which he collaborated work with Pharrell Williams of the Neptunes. The two stand-outs on that project were There She Goes and What If. His next project, Grown and Sexy was released in 2004, with the title track, The Loneliness, and Sorry for the Stupid Things being my faves. He released an album of duets with Toni Braxton in 2014 called Love, Marriage and Divorce which featured the single Hurt You.

And even after going through all of those songs, there is still plenty more from Babyface. So my honorable mentions include One Tender Moment (1978) from his Manchild days; Shoot 'Em Up Movies (1988) by the Deele; Superwoman (1989) by Karyn White; Can't Stop and Ready or Not in 1990 by After 7; Can We Talk (1993) by Tevin Campbell; and Someone to Love (1995) with Jon B. As much as I really want to include Slow Jams from Q's Juke Joint (1995), I won't post a link to any songs by or that make reference to a certain R&B singer (even though that joint is fire, Tamia and Babyface are perfection, and it was written by the late, great Rod Temperton.) While not a show-stopper, this song Smile (2004) which he produced for Tamia's More album is an acceptable alternative. Finally, I will close this out with this undated clip I found of Face playing with Uncle Charlie on a live version of Yearning for Your Love. That's not even one of his songs, but damn if just seeing him on stage makes the song sound that much better.

There is still so much more. But you get the point. Kenneth 'Babyface' Edmonds is a musical genius. Period.

** As I was still writing this piece, the rescheduled producer battle resumed (4-20) and it was EPIC. In all fairness to Teddy Riley, who will be the subject of a playlist later this year, I won't formally declare a winner...but I will refer back to a few points I made at the outset. These two were comparing notes. Between the two of them, there are not many other producers who can stand toe to toe and go more than 15 rounds, and still have unearthed gems in reserve. And while Riley was STILL doing the most, I think he redeemed himself and deserves to preen a bit. But since this is Babyface's playlist index, and he chose Count on Me (sung by Whitney Houston and CeCe Winans) as his closer, that's how this ends.

We Bleed Too

I started to write a very different post the other day, but I only wrote half of a sentence and then life happened, so I had another idea, but I didn't get to write anything on that topic at all, so I am here with a third idea that will attempt to connect all of my earlier thoughts along this theme: Black women are not superhuman.

This past Saturday was a classic Busy Black Saturday in the mold of what I used to post on the Facebook page--a recitation of my activities with a hint of look at me, I am able to juggle multiple tasks and attend several events in a single day bombast. My initial idea was to write about the evolution of this blog from that I-can-do-it-all-in-a-day to my current Dear-Lord-are-you-for-real situation. I took pictures. It was going to be a funny take on the Black Girl magic I have lost since having a child, which I have traded for sleep, stillness, and sanity.

My second idea was to write about how I often feel like a failure as a black mother. Since her third birthday, my daughter has gone through phases when she has explosive tantrums. There was the day when she insisted that we needed to go to my parents' house and refused to leave the car. Or the time when she made the same demand, and after dragging her into the house, I forgot to close the car door. Or the time when I left her backpack on top of the car after the same replay, and one of my neighbors knocked on the door. I have pictures from those wonderful explosions of emotions too, but posting them might lead to her hating me in ten years, and then maybe for the rest of our lives.

My third idea: I learned of the tragic death of a childhood friend. I was initially told that she died in a car accident. That was not the case...she was murdered. I do not know enough details, so all I have is my suspicion that her very tragic death might have been the culmination of a horrible situation.

How do these three distinct ideas connect? For me, it is the common misconception that black women are strong, magical, and powerful. Black women can do anything. And too many of us believe that nonsense to our detriment. Black women may save the world but we cannot save ourselves.

And I mean it. I could not sustain the pretentious facade that I could manage everything when it became obvious that was not the case. I am not that black mother who can avert a meltdown with an icy stare at my child. Not every black woman has the power to walk away from a dangerous situation.
We have vulnerabilities. We have blind spots. We have weaknesses. We bleed.

Do you understand that in order to save the world, Jesus had to die? It wasn't enough for Him to be born and to perform miracles and to speak truth to power. HE HAD TO DIE. Is that what we expect from black women?

Black women suffer and die because the world presumes that we are impervious to pain. Did you know that modern gynecology was developed by using black women as test subjects? Did you know that black mothers have high maternal mortality rates? Did you know that black women develop deadlier forms of breast cancer? Did you know that black women bear the brunt of preventable infectious diseases, such as HIV? Yes, we are educated. Yes, we are strong when the situation demands. Yes, we can endure all kinds of pain and suffering. Yes, we are more loyal to the notion of global sisterhood than some of our white sisters. Yes, we voted to keep a pedophile out of the Senate.

But dammit, I don't want to die and I don't want my friends to die. I want us to live.

And I want us to affirm each other in ways that don't stigmatize women who can't quite live up to the I'm every woman hype. That song is a great anthem, empowering and inspiring, but it also represents the paradox that being everything to everybody can have disastrous consequences (because Whitney is dead y'all). And this notion that in order to be regarded as worthy, we have to sacrifice our health and safety is ludicrous. Because if we only offer the world an illusion instead of reality it can be fatal.

So I am indeed a proud Busy Black Woman who is working on 'the look' that is supposed to keep my child in line. And I am mourning the loss of my childhood friend, praying for her family, and hoping for justice. Allow us the same vulnerability and imperfection that everyone else takes for granted. Let us be human.

Red Beans and Rice Monday: Grammys 2012 Recap

For the first time since high school (or maybe a year or two of college), I stayed up to watch the entire Grammy telecast.  And as one of my FB friends said it best, now I totally remember why I stopped watching it so many years ago. 

To say that the show sucked might be an overstatement...but it would also be true.  Frankly, as another FB friend pondered, I am not sure if the Grammys haven't always sucked.  It occurred to me that we were all so mesmerized by the pop superstars of the 80s and 90s that we forgot how God-awful boring the rest of the show could be.  So here are a few of the Grammy moments that got the Busy Black Woman's attention (from the good, to the bad to the downright WTF):

1. LL Cool J - Did just alright as the host--which means that he was one of the bright spots of the entire show. He started the show on just the right note with that prayer for Whitney.

2. Bruno Mars - If only he had performed at the half way point...his line about folks getting off their rich a$$es was priceless.

3. The commercials - The best performances of the evening!  I LOVED the two Target commercials and have alternately been singing Alouette and Rolling in the Deep all day.  Oh and since I missed the Superbowl I was not quite sure what to make of that Pepsi ad with Elton John as Jabba the Hut or the Red Queen from Alice in Wonderland.  But I liked the Willie Nelson Chipotle ad and I thought that the McDonald's ad with the old guys was hilarious.

4. Jennifer Hudson's tribute to Whitney Houston - simply beautiful.

5. Adele - I am still singing her song, but I suspect that has a lot more to do with the Target ad than it does with her performance.  One of my FB friends commented on her June Cleaver dress and I forgive her because if it had not been for her in that June Cleaver dress and her quip about "rubbish relationships", I might have tuned out after Bruno Mars.

6. Old Guy Radio Reunion - Who exactly in the Grammy target audience cares about the Beach Boys, Tony Bennett, the Bruce or Sir Paul anymore?  They all did well enough to receive an honorable mention on my list here, but really, no one who still listens to their music was watching last night.  And while I think that we truly appreciated the Glen Campbell segment, again, I am thinking that the folks who remember "Rhinestone Cowboy" best were watching Downtown Abbey on PBS.

7. The tribute to deceased artists - Twitter went wild when folks began to question why Don Cornelius was left out of the photo montage along with Vesta and Etta James.  Someone suggested that anyone who had died in 2012 was ineligible for a photo tribute, but then there was Whitney whose death the night before clearly meant that the rules could be bent.  The alleged tribute to Don C that followed was just plain wrong on every level imaginable.  And still, not even a photo of Vesta.

8. Etta James tribute - On the one hand, it proves my point that the 'rule' about honoring dead artists who passed in 2011 was bull.  On the other hand, Etta James did not die 24 hours before the show so if someone thought enough of her to organize a tribute, surely they could done better than that tepid segment offered up by Alicia Keyes and Bonnie Raitt (no disrespect to those two who did an admirable job on Sunday Kind of Love; it just could have been a lot better). 

9. Nick Ashford slighted - And this is my final gripe about the dead artist segment, but I think Nick Ashford deserved a lot more than the nothing he got.  I mean, he co-wrote I'm Every Woman, the Busy Black Woman anthem! 

10. Rihanna. Chris Brown. Lil Wayne. Taylor Swift. Etc. - Let me refer back to #6 and the Old Guy Radio Reunion segment to suggest that the music business is in real trouble if any one of these artists receives a lifetime achevement award in 40 years.

11. The untelevised awards - I would be lying if I said that the Grammys should air some of its less popular categories like jazz, world and classical music.  But I am confident that I would have appreciated those a lot more than the above referenced performances.

12. Stevie Wonder and Diana Ross as presenters - Really?

13. Artists who rely too heavily on shock value rather than talent - Because there is nothing unique about crazy costumes, fireworks, aerial stunts, and alter egos in popular music...and that brings me to

14. Nicki Minaj - WTF?

For Whitney

I have been trying to come back to this blog for a while, but circumstances kept derailing my better intentions. I actually thought that I would return next Tuesday just in time for a snarky Valentine's Day piece...but again, circumstances intervened. 

Whitney Houston regained her voice yesterday.

There is no way for me to properly eulogize Whitney because there is nothing to say that has not already been said about her enormous talent, storybook career, troubled personal life, Icarus-like fall from grace, or her ill-fated attempt at a comeback.  There is nothing left to add or spin differently to make her life story any more or less tragic than what it was.

But I can tell you how my shock, sadness and utter disbelief have now metamorphasized into the firm recognition that God never makes mistakes.  Whitney's voice was once His gift to us; now He has seen fit to give it back to her.  Hallelujah!!!

In the age before music videos, little girls used to sing to themselves in front of bedroom and bathroom mirrors into hairbrushes.  We sang along to the likes of Diana Ross, Patti LaBelle, Aretha Franklin, Teena Marie and Karen Carpenter.  We sang about love to adoring audiences of younger siblings, dolls and stuffed animals or even to imaginary boyfriends.  For my mirror performances, I borrowed my mother's lipstick and jewelry to really look the part.  And I thought I was something until I heard and saw Whitney Houston. 

Whitney was poised and beautiful and could sang (like the old folks in church would say).  She was the original American Idol.  She had the X factor.  She was The Voice. 

And in spite of everything else--the awkward dancing, the stiff acting, Bobby Brown, and many other questionable lifestyle choices, there was that phenomenal voice.  Until of course, it began to fade...

The last Whitney Houston CD I ever bought was her greatest hits album released several years ago.  I played it constantly to relive some of those hairbrush/mirror memories, but also to marvel at the purity of her voice.  And though it happens to every great singer eventually, there is a point when it became obvious that her voice had changed.  Unfortunately, it was not in a good way, and I finally put the CD away because it was just too depressing to listen anymore.

And in that sense, Whitney's demise is practically biblical--the story of Samson comes to mind.  Blessed with enormous strength, Samson squanders it by giving in to the temptations of Delilah.  After suffering humiliation at the hands of his enemies, Samson gradually regains his strength and uses it in a final triumphant act of desperation that results in both his death and that of his tormentors.  Whitney squandered her magnificent blessing by giving in to the temptations of excess.  She suffered the loss of her career and was ridiculed mercilessly while trying in vain to regain her footing.  But in death, her past mistakes are consigned to the grave.

And her voice is restored!  The most circulated clips from Whitney's past performances were interchangeably the most triumphant from her career: the Star Spangled Banner, the Greatest Love of All, I Will Always Love You, and One Moment in Time.  For those who are too young to understand the grief expressed by millions of now grown hairbrush/mirror singers, the only Whitney Houston they will ever know is the one with the incomparable voice.  And that is how it should be.

Rest in Peace Whitney.