Zetsu recently piqued my interest in the beautiful art form of poetry which I’ve come to appreciate in recent weeks. The elasticity of the words or rhyme patterns in a poem doesn’t determine the potency of the poem as much as the feeling it gives the reader and no matter the amount of interpretations given by the writer and scholars, the true beauty of poetry is in the meaning adapted by the reader(s).
Every form of art is basically poetry either in static or in motion, because art speaks, sings or writes as the case may be and the SI unit is words. An image by a painter on a static canvas becomes an immortal expression when its interpretation(s) by onlookers leaves an indelible feeling on the individual, just like a favourite movie does to a person. The full meaning of ‘RAP’ - rhythm and poetry - basically defines what music is: poetry in motion. Music can be amazing technically, but if it doesn’t arouse any sort of emotions it becomes mechanical and art without penetrative fluidity lacks ‘soul’ and dies a forgettable death. An artist just like a writer can only express the feelings, but it’s left to the listener to understand, misconstrue or redefine the meaning behind the art. All that truly matters is that the art being expressed leaves a lasting impression because art can only express, it can’t put a reader, an observer or a listener in the artist’s exact frame of mind. Not everyone can write exquisite poems, paint, act or make music but there’s an immense amount of joy when someone else helps to express our thoughts and feelings (on purpose or accidentally) in an art form we can sink into and maybe find solace in.
Solange’s critically acclaimed third album ‘A seat at the table’ is an honest look at self-worth made in the context of black excellence in a very white world. As far as music technicalities go, the album is a perfect balance between many extremes. The layering of instruments is very fluid but the sounds come out solid, it’s funky and loose but still anchored, sprawling and vibrant at the same time. The vocals are neither overly raised nor timid throughout its duration. When the album feels like it’s sinking, it floats and when it feels like it’s approaching a crescendo, it holds. But the most striking characteristic of the album is that despite every balance, the emotions embedded in each song are very palpable and vivid. The album is a hot mix of anger, confusion, self-loathe, happiness, clarity and self-love all melted into one thick but light haze of multi-coloured beauty.
After multiple listens to ‘A Seat at the Table’, I came to appreciate every inch of the album from music to lyrics to vocals to emotions and I understood why the album garnered every type of praise from critics and fan, but the personal connection for me wasn’t complete. Normally I wouldn’t care, reviews and think pieces seemed to point out that the album wasn’t made for some random Nigerian guy living in Nigeria who didn’t have the ‘black American’ experience. But there was something striking about this album, from the blank but piercing stare on its cover art that made me want inquire and peel the layers of the album to an unidentifiable oomph about the spirit of singing of the album. Each listen held something new but the album didn’t get stitched to me until one hot Saturday evening in January 2017 – over 3 months after the album release and after over 50 front to end listens.
There was no electricity and the heat seemed life threatening, it wasn’t going to be 7pm for little over an hour so the generator wouldn’t be on for a short while. From getting angry about the unwanted heat, my mind started to wander and memories of my low points in the months prior formed around all the while taunting me. This wasn’t the first time this was happening, in fact it was happening with increased frequency and it was annoying, I could even taste the resentment at my own self. Music was going to be the cooling pack for this hot feeling but after listening to some of my favourite songs I wasn’t getting anywhere. I shuffled my entire library and after a handful of deliberate track skips, I finally got one: Solange and Lil Wayne – ‘Mad’. ‘Mad’ encapsulated my feelings at the moment, giving me the perfect soundtrack to wallow in, but also wanted me want to leave the resentment behind.
“You got the right to be mad/But when you carry it along/You find it getting in the way/They say you gotta let it go” – Solange, ‘Mad’.
After multiple repeated listens to ‘Mad’, I decided to dive back into ‘A Seat at the Table’ with a different strategy. I queued up all the songs on the album without the interludes (except the interlude featuring Kelly Rowland and Nia Andrews) and put playlist on shuffle. A couple of listens to the playlist on shuffle and then I decided to play the album in its original sequence, it affected me differently. The album now held an appropriate meaning, my meaning. Some Individual songs already had their personal interpretations, but this time the album had come together to form a whole and satisfying impression on me.
From the graciously sung phoenix concept album opener ‘Rise’ to the duplicity of standards on ‘Scales’, the album was a near perfect description of my predicament at the time – having to deal with simple issues made complex by a crooked system set up for failure. By the end of the album there’s no exciting feeling of conquering of clarity, more like a feeling of solidarity from an unknown individual in a support group. A priceless feeling of knowing someone went through a somewhat similar phase without being judgemental and like they say; a problem shared is half-solved.
As small as the words on ‘Weary’ made me feel, they didn’t make me feel inconsequential. When she sings “You’re feeling like you’re chasing the world/you’re leaving not a trace in the world/but you’re leaving not a trace in the world/I’m gon look for my glory yeah/I’ll be back real soon/But you know a king is only a man” in a worried but assured tone, the words became as much a realization of the negative issues as an understanding of limitations that needed to be crossed. By the mid-section of the album it has been ascertained that forward is the way, but what direction is forward? “I don’t know where to go/I don’t know where to stay/where do we go from here?/do you know?” she sings dejectedly expectant on “Where to go”. As soon as the album ends, the important lesson is that brutal honesty must be tempered with an awareness of one’s self-worth to improve personal situations because as Master P says on one of the interludes “The glory is in you”.
Tracklist
1. Rise
2. Weary
3. Interlude: The Glory Is In You
4. Cranes In The Sky
5. Interlude: Dad Was Mad
6. Mad feat. Lil Wayne
7. Don't You Wait
8. Interlude: Tina Taught Me
9. Don't Touch My Hair feat. Sampha
10. This Moment
11. Where Do We Go
12. Interlude: For Us By Us
13. F.U.B.U feat. The-Dream & BJ the Chicago Kid
14. Borderline (An Ode to Self Care) feat. Q-Tip
15. Interlude: I Got So Much Magic, You Can Have It feat. Kelly Rowland & Nia Andrews
16. Junie
17. No Limits
18. Don't Wish Me Well
19. Interlude: Pedestals
20. Scales feat. Kelela
21. Closing: The Chosen Ones
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Even though I may never meet Solange (she probably won’t see this article), my experience with ‘A Seat at the Table’ will always remain with me.That makes her and her piece of art immortal.
Words by Dennis, aka Mortal Dennis, aka @ayo_dennis.
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