In 2016, San Francisco 49ers quarterback Colin Kapernick sparked a national uproar when he chose to kneel rather than stand during the playing of the national anthem. In an interview with NFL media he said, “I am not going to stand up to show pride in a flag for a country that oppresses black people and people of color… To me, this is bigger than football and it would be selfish on my part to look the other way. There are bodies in the street and people getting paid leave and getting away with murder.”
Kapernick’s critique of his country did not go unnoticed by the president, who took to twitter to complain:
As Trump seems to suggest, Kapernick is a football player. Shouldn’t he just stick to that and stay out of politics? Is Kapernick letting down his fans by using his professional position to advocate for a political position? Or is this type of activism an effective and necessary means for change? People in all professions face these questions. These questions are especially on the minds of female jazz musicians today. Jazz has traditionally existed as a male-dominated field, aside from African American female vocalists. The deeply embedded “jazz patriarchy” still exists, but more and more women are breaking into the field and establishing themselves. Some of these women, though affected by the gender politics of jazz and America in general, do not find their inspiration in politics. They take the stance that gender does not exist in music; that worrying about gender politics only distracts from their musical endeavors. Others are inspired by their experiences in the face of sexism, and choose to use their music as a force for change. Roxy Coss is an example of one of these women.
In 2018, Roxy Coss released the album “The Future is Female.” Right off the bat, you can tell from the title that this album holds a political message: that women will change the world. The photo on the cover shows Roxy standing confidently and defiantly. To me, this image presents Roxy as an example of a young woman taking on the world, challenging anything that might get in her way, and inspiring other women to do the same.
The track titles, listed below, provide even more insight to the purpose of Roxy’s work and its relationship to the current political climate.
“Nevertheless, She Persisted” “Draws its title from words uttered by Senator Mitch McConnell during the process to silence Senator Elizabeth Warren from raising objection to the confirmation of Jeff Sessions as Attorney General.” Other titles address the president, such as “Nasty Women Grab Back,” which responds to Donald Trump’s infamous comment which doesn’t need to be repeated here. “Me Too” is obviously a contribution to the #metoo movement. One title that stood out to me as a young female jazz musician was “She Needed a Hero, so That’s What She Became.” I interpret this title as referring to the lack of female role models in jazz and beyond. Roxy is suggesting here that in the absence of role models, she realized she would have to fill that void so that young women in generations to come would have somebody to look up to and be inspired by.
Aside from the track titles and cover art, the nature of the songs themselves seem to suggest a certain political urgency. Reviews for the album point this out. One Downbeat review reads, “The Future Is Female is all instrumental, but it’s message music through and through… This is hard-hitting post-bop: aggressive, determined and grim.” Another review from allaboutjazz.com says about the song “She Needed a Hero, so That’s What She Became,” “A sense of tension can be felt, a spirit drowning in solitude seeking absolution.” Thus, Roxy’s work has clearly blended music and politics into one. She is not just a musician speaking about politics, her music almost speaks for itself.
In an interview with popmatters.com, Roxy says, “Every single woman I’ve ever talked to in this industry has many stories that are horrible. People need to hear the stories, but the bigger idea is: This is going on, it is rampant, and we have to fix it, deal with it, and do something positive.” Aside from her album, another project Roxy has created to combat issues of discrimination is the founding of the Women in Jazz Organization, or WIJO. This organization strives “To improve issues in the Jazz community: how people in Jazz see and treat us; how people outside the Jazz community see and treat us; and how we see and treat ourselves and each other.”
Again, as a female jazz musician myself, Roxy’s album had a huge impact on me. I was inspired by her musicianship and the message of her music. I was thankful that Roxy blatantly called out political issues and addressed them, rather than disguising her message. Roxy’s album undoubtedly inspires other young women and therefore positively impacts society. Her work proves that music and politics belong together, and that music with a political message can change the world.
- https://www.allaboutjazz.com/the-future-is-female-roxy-coss-posi-tone-records-review-by-paul-rauch.php
- https://www.popmatters.com/roxy-coss-interview-2556338405.html
- http://wearewijo.org/about/about-us/
- https://www.roxycoss.com/about
- https://www.newyorker.com/culture/culture-desk/colin-kaepernick-and-the-radical-uses-of-the-star-spangled-banner
- http://downbeat.com/reviews/detail/the-future-is-female
I think you’ve made a valuable contribution to the ongoing dialogue on gender imbalance in the arts: although my knowledge of jazz is admittedly limited to a very small selection of experimental jazz, I don’t think I would be mistaken in saying that patriarchal structures in jazz haven’t received the same kind of media attention that has been paid in recent months to discriminatory imbalances in the classical music or pop music community. I also think you’ve managed to connect Roxy Coss’s album very effectively to the Kaepernick article; however, I wonder if, even for purely rhetorical reasons, you might have returned to it in your conclusion. I think it provides excellent context for your primary thesis, which is very specifically rooted in Coss’s work; however, it also raises broader, more abstract questions on how artists and politics might relate in a general sense, and I think your post could have benefited from zooming out to this bird’s-eye view. In any case, I think that your post flows well and that your prose is clear, and appreciate how you’ve made your personal connection to Coss’s work clear while avoiding the purely subjective.