It might seem surprising to many people, but the world of black gospel music has always been paradoxical. The genre emerged in Chicago during the Great Migration when Thomas Andrew Dorsey brought all of his experience as a former "bluesman" to bear on its development. Now considered the "father of black gospel," Dorsey had been the piano player for "Ma" Rainey's Georgia Jazz band until a dramatic conversion experience in the late 1920s. His innovation, "Gospel Blues," merely joined sacred lyrics to Blues chord structures. Dorsey had come to reject the lifestyle of the bluesman, but he did not reject the blues. Indeed, he maintained that the emotionally evocative nature of the blues could be of tremendous service to church music, working toward the "same feeling." As a result, however, Dorsey and a number of other early gospel performers were thrown out of some of the most established black churches in the country. What is now widely recognized as the "classic" sound of black gospel was once just as widely considered to be the "Devil's music."
The lives of gospel performers have reflected the fact that black gospel was born in tension between the sacred and the secular, the church and the world, human passions and spiritual inclinations. Even some of the most revered figures within the tradition lead complicated lives that were often marked as much by materialism, self- interest, contradiction and competition as by the desire to spread the "good news." During the height of black gospel's popularity in the 1950s and 1960s, many gospel singers such as Mahalia Jackson, Sister Rosetta Tharpe, Marion Williams and Clara Ward amassed modest fortunes and took great pride in displaying their material wealth in the form of expensive cars, fur coats, lavish homes and furnishings. When Clara Ward dramatically cast her Mink wrap at Mahalia Jackson's coffin during Jackson's funeral in 1972, it was possibly a gesture of respect for the departed "Queen of Gospel," but it
was without question a display of Ward's material prosperity. As Semple, the wise and sardonic Langston Hughes character, observed, "Some gospel singers these days are making so much money, when you hear them crying, 'I cannot bear my burden alone,' what they really mean is, 'help me get my cross to my Cadillac.'"
The seeming contradiction between the message of black gospel and the lives of many gospel singers became an enormous issue on the "gospel highway" between the 1950s and 1970s, effectively splitting gospel singers into two camps, "ministers" and "performers." It also may account for the popularity of Dorsey's tune, "I've Got to Live the Life I Sing about in My Songs," made famous, perhaps ironically, by Mahalia Jackson.
Gospel singers of the past were not saints and their lives did not always conform, privately or publicly, to conventional standards of Christian piety. The same can be said for today's crop of black gospel singers whose personal presentation and public performances seem a direct response to market demands and the result of their commercial success. (Gospel music is a multi-million dollar industry.) Their lives are just as fraught with complications, apparent compromise and contradictions as their predecessors. The gospel road has always been a hard road. Failing to navigate its bumps, twists and turns can cost you something professionally and personally. Tonéx (aka Anthony Williams), the gospel artist who came out as gay in 2007 could certainly attest to that.
Even more so than the complexities of the gospel life, however, what links these performers across the generations is the glorious music itself. Black gospel music is America's finest creation, the soundtrack of this nation. It is a genre of music that has been able to articulate all the hopes, fears, trials and triumphs of the human spirit, as well as express our salvific anticipation of that heavenly tomorrow. And most of these gospel singers can really sing it too! Think Yolanda Adams, Smokie Norful, the Clark Sisters, Mary Mary, Shirley Caesar and all the Winans. As Langston's Semple says, they may be "working in the vineyard of the Lord and digging in his gold mines," but that's OK, "as long as they keep singing as they do".
Gospel music - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
A History of Gospel Music : NPR
Amazon.com: Passionately Human, No Less Divine: Religion and ...
Thomas A. Dorsey - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
With permission to speak openly, there should be a difference, the gospel states that a new song would be given not a sample. There are those who sing gospel and are actually ministering, those are often the ones who are not making all the money, or have all the fame. Not knocking anyone just my personal feelings, I do however wonder for the artist that have distance themselves from what the bible states is gospel "What if God is not happy with your praise (song)?" I think gospel artist should set the pace and lead not follow, unfortunately many black gospel artist have compromised their principles of gospel to the dollars of the industry.
My problem with religion, as a whole, has always been the hypocrisy of people. As this article states, "Gospel singers of the past were not saints and their lives did not always conform, privately or publicly, to conventional standards of Christian piety."
I have a real issue with people who want to tell me how to live, what to think, what to say, how to react, etc, when I see them living and doing things I would never consider doing. And their only response is something asinine as "I'm forgiven" or "Don't judge me".
Please! Stop the hypocrisy!
That conversation comes back to me every time I hear of Christian singers who have won awards from the Christian music industry, then have to give them back because they have not lived up to the ideal lifestyle expected of them.
Just like the man I met earlier, apparently these singers are only good enough for the awards if they are never allowed to be human.
I know gospel music isnt rock and roll, but my sentiments resonate with that quote of Mike Judge's
I recently stumbled on to something on YouTube while looking for old '60s R&B tunes. When searching for a video clip of Jackie Wilson singing one of his biggest hits, "Higher and Higher", I came across a clip of a broadcast from the British reality competition show, "Last Choir Standing." It's sort of "American Idols" or "Dahcning with the Stars" with young choirs (and no Bristol Palin --- YAY!). Anyway, this lovely chorus of what appears to be high school kids, called the ACM Gospel Choir, started to sing a familiar sounding tune, which, because of the group's name, suddenly took on religious overtones:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GDyoMOHrH9c
I thought to myself, "Surely they've changed the words to the original Jackie Wilson song," which I remember as a fast-paced, sexy dance song. I looked some more for a video clip of Jackie Wilson singing his original version and found it:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k1odvp-_bhk
And this just brought back to me a lesson original learned in the 1993 comedy about convent life, "Sister Act:" Many songs from the African-American church can be performed in secular or sacred surroundings, with just slight adjustments in lyrics or rhythms. For example, here's the Sister Act version of "My God:"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=girW7nTNnMQ
Of course, the original version was by Motown singer Mary Wells, under the name "My Guy":
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r1M5eEJeT38
Likewise, Little Peggy March, who was not an African-American singer, inspired another Sister Act song:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YCCm5-mwtr8
The Sister Act version is as follows:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nqp89bkFe8k&feature=related
And since I'm sharing videos, you have to see this. A large group of prisoners in The Philippines doing liturgical dance music to the same song:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2CPg9GWBoL0
I guess all of this shows that all music is intertwined and so is all spirituality and positive energy in life.