We Insist!: Max Roach’s Bold Call for Freedom

“A revolution is unfurling-America’s unfinished revolution. It is unfurling in lunch counters, buses, libraries and schools-wherever the dignity and potential of men are denied. Youth and idealism are unfurling. Masses of Negroes are marching onto the stage of history and demanding their freedom now!” These fiery words from Civil Rights leader John Philip Randolph capture the call to revolution in the 1950s and 60s. The United States were in upheaval as Black Americans fought for equality in a nation which claims that “All men are created equal.” Around the nation, freedom fighters were participating in sit-ins, boycotts, and other forms of protest. In 1955, Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat, in 1957, the Little Rock Nine braved the harassment of their school, and in 1960, Max Roach recorded an album that would prove to be a jazz anthem the revolution happening all around him.

John Phillip Randolph, the Civil Rights Leader who’s words appear in the “Freedom Now!” liner notes (biography.com)

Max Roach was a virtuoso jazz drummer, a legend to this day. But the jazz stars of the 1950s and 1960s were not excluded from the harsh reality of racism and segregation. The copyright system was set up so that songwriters and producers gained the biggest checks. This left performers with little compensation for their talents. The American Federation of Musicians (AFM), which controlled access to the biggest gigs and venues, had been segregated since it’s founding. The AFM also controlled radio contracts, and made sure that white bands were favored in local and national broadcasts. In fact, it wasn’t until 1946 that Nat King Cole broke the prime time radio color barrier. Jazz musicians of the caliber of Sarah Vaughn and Cab Calloway were beaten by police and civilians alike. So although jazz musicians received some measure of status, they understood and experienced racism and segregation just like the rest of the black population.

The Album Cover to “We Insist!” depicts a sit-in, with three black men sitting at a what is most likely a white bar

It was into this scene that Max Roach inserted his musical call for freedom, the legendary album, “We Insist! The Freedom Now Suite!” The album had been politically motivated from the beginning. The liner notes suggest that the NAACP had hired Roach and vocalist Oscar Brown Jr. to write a piece for the 100th anniversary of the Emancipation Proclamation, which would occur in 1963. Although the Brown/Roach collaboration would be ended due to differing political views, the theme of freedom remained. Roach was joined by Vocalist Abbey Lincoln (who would be his wife from 1962-1970) and a star-studded cast of instrumentalists such as Booker Little (trumpet) and Julian Priester (trombone). The album captures Roach’s transition to the be-bop jazz-club scene to the harsher, grittier avant-garde style of the 1960s. This transition suits the harsh subject matter extremely well and provides a powerful picture of his world. The liner notes begin with the revolutionary quote from John Phillip Randolph. Roach and company were intentional about getting their message across. They wanted freedom, and they wanted it now.

The Album is composed as a chronological history of black culture in the US. “Driva Man” is a reference to pre-civil war slavery; “Freedom Day” recalls the excitement, anticipation and tension of Emancipation Day; “Triptych: Prayer, Protest, Peace” paints a vivid picture of the troubles blacks experienced in both the US and Africa; “All Africa” is a celebration of African culture; and “Tears for Johanassburg” is a response to the Sharpeville Massacre in South Africa.

A live version of “Freedom Day” performed in 1964. In this version, Roach plays a powerful solo near the beginning of the tune.

The performances on the album are all noteworthy, showcasing extreme virtuosity and expression. Particularly, “Freedom Day”, the most arranged tune on the album, stands out. Although the melody is simple, the tempo is absolute breakneck. Roach manages to keep up with this extreme tempo throughout, and provides a beautifully motivic and powerful solo near the end of the song. He begins simply, and then builds these simple motives to a thundering conclusion. Equally impressive is Little’s trumpet solo. Despite the extreme tempo, Little provides a fiery solo that is motivically sound and technically impressive. The tutti sections before and after the solo sections is particularly effective thanks to the powerful bass pedals that change shift under the dense chords of the horns. The lyrics, sung hauntingly by Lincoln, show an absolute disbelief that freedom day has come. This can be seen as powerful commentary of current events in the 50s and 60s. Although the Emancipation Proclamation provided some measure of freedom, true freedom still evaded black Americans. Roach himself stated that “we don’t really understand what it really is to be free. The last song we did, “Freedom Day” ended with a question mark.” This explains the mournful quality in a tune which subject matter would suggest jubilation.

The original Album version of Freedom Day
Max Roach and Abbey Lincoln

Indeed, “We Insist!” provided a turning point for Roach. After it’s release, he told Downbeat that “I will never again play anything that does not have social significance. We American jazz musicians of African descent have proved beyond all doubt that we’re master musicians of our instruments. Now what we have to do is employ our skill to tell the dramatic story of our people and what we’ve been through.” Roach’s call for freedom has not gone unheard. Although it was not well received, a tendency of avant-garde music, time has treated it well. The Guardian hailed it as a “landmark jazz album”  and Penguin Guide to Jazz gave the album a rare crown accolade. To this day, his message applies as the United States still seeks to sift through generations of racism and abuse. Perhaps we can think of “We Insist!” as Max Roach’s version of kneeling during the national anthem, championed infamously by Colin Kaepernick. Similar to Kaepernick, Roach used his status to make a bold and obvious political statement. Both Kaepernick and Roach were not well received at first, but both succeeded in getting their point across, whether or not the public was ready. Roach believed that music was political, and did not hesitate to use his talents for his cause. And sathough it is close to its 60th birthday, “We Insist!” still relates to current events and can still inspire and inform a new generation of jazz lovers and Americans.

More live music from Freedom Now Suite

The Variation and Impact of Ol’ Man River by Paul Robeson

Since its inception into American society, American popular music has, in some form, always been at the forefront of critiquing American politics. A plethora of songs have been written specifically to combat or call into view injustices shown in politics and a number of originals song have had their text or music changed to fit a message of political criticism. For instance, America’s national anthem, “The Star-Spangled Banner,” has had its fair share of rewrites in order to fit a certain issue or message. William Robin, in his article regarding Colin Kaepernick and the Radical Uses of “The Star-Spangled Banner,” quotes a temperance advocate’s text revision that peers into the reality of America’s drinking issue. The quote reads, “Oh! who has not seen by the dawn’s early light / Some poor bloated drunkard to his home weakly reeling.” Now, I absolutely love this method of using music to talk about politics; it grabs the listener in with a familiar tune with the intent of educating them on a real-world issue. As I’ve said before, there are a plethora of songs that have been rewritten to fit a cause, but none come close to the revision of “Ol’ Man River” that Paul Robeson wrote during the Civil Rights Movement. 

Full discloser: Paul Robeson is one of my favorite basses to listen to and one of my favorite people to learn about. He was born on April 9th, 1898 in Princeton, New Jersey to Rev. William Robeson, a former runaway slave, and Maria Lousia Bustill, a Quaker. Without going into too much detail about his life, I can say that he received a scholarship to play football at Rutgers College, where he graduated class valedictorian. He went to Columbia Law School and soon after landed a job at a law firm, only to leave almost immediately after a white secretary refused to take dictation from him due to his race. It was at this point that Robeson decided to quit law to dedicate his life to his true passion of singing. Throughout his illustrious music career, Robeson worked with the likes of Eugene O’Neill, W.E.B. Du Bois, and James Joyce. But none of his collaborations would be as pivotal as his work with Jerome Kern and Oscar Hammerstein II in their groundbreaking musical Showboat. Most people identify Showboat as the defining show for American musical theater because it was one of the first musicals to fully integrate the plot of the show into the songs, which created a whole new form of storytelling. Although working in this play essentially made Robeson a sensation among American audiences, he saw his character Joe, a black dockworker singing about his troubles to the Mississippi River, as well as the hit song “Ol’ Man River” a bit demeaning to his pursuit of highlighting African American progression. 

Paul Robeson in the movie version of Showboat

Understandably, Robeson didn’t appreciate the original lyrics that included the N-word to describe the type of workers working along the Mississippi nor did he appreciate the presentation of African Americans in this play as second class citizens. So, in an attempt to bring light to his feelings on the equal rights of black U.S. citizens, Robeson began in 1938 to rewrite the lyrics of this song in recitals. Similar to the pro tolerance writings put into the star-spangled banner, Robeson added text to “Ol’ Man River” that promoted African American freedom and strength. The famous line “There’s an old man called the Mississippi, that’s the old man that I’d like to be” was changed to “There’s an old man called the Mississippi, that’s the old man I don’t like to be” and the ending of the stanza “I get weary and sick of trying, I’m tired of living and scared of dying” was changed to “But I keep laughing instead of crying and I’ll keep fighting until I’m dying.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=evwtK81KFrs

Through this decision to rewrite and perform this text, Robeson gained much prominence in the early stages of the civil rights movement, especially during the early part of the cold war. Unfortunately, Paul Robeson as well as many African American leaders of the Harlem Renaissance period saw the emphasis on racial equality in the Soviet Union as a model for the U.S. to look toward, which to many Americans marked them as Communist supporters. This labeling eventually got Paul Robeson blacklisted from Hollywood, thoroughly questioned and searched by the House Un-American Activities Committee, and unable to reach American audiences as he once was able to do. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rLVqCGeK6JM
A recreation of Paul Robeson’s HUAC hearing by James Earl Jones

However, the effect Robeson was able to make on 20thcentury politics through his music was still a triumphant victory for African Americans searching for equality and a testament to the power of music against its environment. Music, as Robeson has shown, is a vital tool in sharing emotion and ideas which is why it has such a stronghold in the world of politics.