Kenny Gamble: Knowledge is King

                                                                         

                                                                       

 

"Understand while you dance"

                                              ---Kenny Gamble: Message in the Music (1976)

Circa 1986-87, Christian conservatism offered America a respite from strident 60s and 70s liberalism. Libya and Palestine were considered global pariahs. East and West were locked in a battle between good and evil. In the midst of conflict, 17-year-old William Michael Griffin from Wyandanch, Long Island forged a new identity inspired by Egypt's spiritual deity (Amen-Ra) and its ancient name (Kemet). Boldly stepping to the mic and professing his Islamic faith: all praise due to Allah/and that's a blessin.'  Forever known as Rakim, he would cast an influential shadow over rap music. 

 

 

 

 

 

A few towns over in Roosevelt, a 26-year-old Carlton Ridenour aka Chuck D was doing the same with his group Public Enemy.  Both rap gods operated from a higher plane. Rakim looked inward and harnessed his spirituality to move crowds like mountains. Chuck looked outward seeing the unlimited possibilities of a nation of millions.

 

 

 

                                                           

                     "Two years ago, black kids used to think that saying nothing 
                       was alright; getting a gold chain, a dukey rope, was dope, 
                      the dope shit; its alright to sniff a little coke; get nice for the moment;
                   get in my fly ride and do anything to get it; even if it means stomping
                  the next man; cause I got to look out for number one. Its alright for a drug
                 dealer to be making money, its alright for a drug to sell drugs; its aright cause
                 he's making money. 1988, its a different thought. Because consciousness has 
                been raised where people are saying that the gold rope don't mean shit."                                                           

                                          ----Chuck D: Spin Magazine (September 1988)

 Rap fans point to Ra and Chuck as key architects of Black music's mental and spiritual-minded era. Rightfully so. Born in the era of crowd-moving funk and sophisticated soul but too young to witness it in real time---they absorbed vintage Black music as part of their Saturday morning soundtrack, the kind created by Philly International's' Mighty Three: Thom Bell, Leon Huff and Luqman Abdul Haqq---aka righteous record man Kenneth Gamble. 

Bell was the amiable prodigy---a one-band who was the master of many instruments as well as the art of production and arranging. Huff was the silent music man whose rumbling piano keys were the spark behind Philly Soul classics like "Back Stabbers" and "TSOP." Gamble was the loquacious lyric man.  In an interview, Bell summarized their distinct characteristics: "one who doesn't talk (Huff), one who shouldn't (Bell) and one who should (Gamble)."

Together and apart they collaborated with a cadre of talented singers, musicians and arrangers and producers to concoct a string laden R&B with an amalgamation of jazz, classical and blues styles. Majestic love ballads and groove-driven up tempos represented  two sides of a musical coin that moved the City of Brotherly Love and Sisterly Affection beyond its early rock-n-roll, gospel and jazz roots of the 40s, 50s and 60s.

 

 

  

                                                            

                                                                            

                    

 

                                                       

                                                          

Boldly articulating his views on spirituality, humanity, politics, and empowerment, Gamble helped establish Black music's progressive-minded energy over decades before Golden era conscious rap. Music historians tend to point to Marvin Gaye as the jump-off point courtesy of What's Going On---the Motown masterpiece crowning Gaye as R&B's trumpet of reason. Uneasy with that coronation, Gaye quickly vacated the throne for familiar love man territory. Gamble would pick up the mantle.

 

                                                                   

  

 

 

                                                                              

 

Decades before Public Enemy injected Afrocentric psychiatrist Frances Cress-Welsing's race theories into their 1990 Fear of A Black Planet album, and future rap illuminatti references, Gamble tackled secret societies and class warfare instigated by America's oldest and wealthiest families through ideas gleaned from Ferdinand Lundenburg's The Rich and the Super Rich.  

 

                                              

Those ideas would see the light of day on the OJay's  1976 song Rich Get Richer taken from their gold-selling Message In The Music album:

                                                     "There's only sixteen families 

                                                      that control the whole world
                                                        I read that in a book, ya'll
                                                         there's sixteen families 

                                                     that control this whole world
                                  People like the Mellons, the Gettys, the DuPonts, the Rockerfellers
                                  Howard Hughes, if they always win, how in the world can they lose"
                                                          

 

  Leaving no topical stone unturned, Gamble penned chilling first-hand narratives that dealt with everything from slavery (Ship Ahoy), the prison industrial-complex (I'm Just A Prisoner), and superficial Black unity ("Don't Call Me Brother"). Songs like Family Reunion were aural ancestral family heirlooms. Gamble challenged America's penchant for war (" Man of War") and explored religious conflict ("War of the Gods"). He even challenged the urban policies of Philadelphia's polarizing mayor Frank Rizzo (''Let's Clean Up The Ghetto.").

 

 Non-Gamble compositions were given progressive makeovers. Before sampling, Malcolm X and MLK speeches were spliced onto a remake of Paul McCartney's 1976 Let'Em  In. 

 

 

                                                                            

 

On the back of Philly International album covers Gamble dropped jewels influenced by his Islamic leanings. He spoke of "universal truth" and urged listeners to strive and grow into their "god-like condition. " As Gamble pondered what good was "wisdom" without understanding," he warned of the coming of a "divine vanguard"---an "army of truth and justice for all humanity."

 

 

                                                                            

On the O'Jays' Family Reunion (1975) album, Gamble condemned the generational gap as a "divisive evil plan to halt the wisdom between young and old as well as stifling the energy of youth which is the stabilizer of wisdom and age." 

 

One of Gamble's most powerful statements was on Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes 1975 album Wake Up Everybody:

 

 ''The kingdom of God is here on earth today! The righteous government we prayed for so          long. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth. Open your heart so your mind so your body can feel it. Open up your eyes to so your mind can feel it. The paradise lost is                                                                  the paradise regained.  Wake up everybody!!! "

 

 

                                                                    
                                                                               

Gamble occasionally filtered his strident messages through the female voices. The Three Degrees' Year of Decision ("this is the year to get what you need/there is no reason why/you you should be shy/ people died to set you free") and The Jones Girls' At Peace With Woman ("there won't be peace on this ground/til man and woman sit down") were a few examples. 

 

 

    

                                                                   

 

                                                                                                                                  

 Primarily speaking through the overt masculinity of the power trio of Billy Paul, Theodore Pendergrass, and Eddie Levert, Gamble transformed them into urban griots detailing 360 degrees of the human condition. Paul's moody blues, Pendergrass' gospel bark, and Levert's chesty bluster (and partner Walter William's aching despair) were a perfect foil for protest songs (Give The People What They Want), hard-luck tales (Survival, Let The Dollar Circulate) and sharp indictments targeting blatant materialism (For The Love of Money),

 

Exploring the world of unscrupulous people and shallow social climbers (Shifty, Shady, Jealous Kind of People and Be For Real), Gamble's real-life stories were as potent as pages torn from a Shakespearean Greek tragedy.

 

                                                                      

                                                                                                                          

                                       

     

 

Critics accused Gamble of using his acts to further his political agenda. Panning the subject matter, they dismissed it as heavy-handed. Music critic Robert Christgau cast Gamble as "self-serving and "psuedo-political" and a "gifted pop demagogue/black capitalist posing as a liberator." Branding the OJays' 1975  Family Reunion album as "Jesse Jackson (or Reverend Ike ) goes disco," Gamble's patriarchal-slanted creativity---foreshadowing Spike Lee and Chuck D's similarly maligned output later on---was heavily criticized. Christgau lampooned Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes' Wake Up Everybody for its "muddled-headed lyrics of war, hatred, and poverty that came along just as Gamble and Huff were running out of lyrics." 

 

 As rock and folk genres were free to explore social commentary, Black music was grounded and confined to the spit-and-polish of an industry tried-and-true conceptual formula. 

 Songs like Change Is Gonna Come (1964), Respect (1967), and Sitting On The Dock of the Bay  (1967)---with their "coded" lyrics push the needle closer to center. 

 

Black rock collective The Chambers Brothers---a blueprint from everyone from the Isley Brothers to Bad Brains to Living Color---delivered definitive anthem Time Has Come Today (1967)  departing from the projection of non-confrontational images of Black entertainers to the American public.  As the 70s dawned, Philadelphia International continued on the path laid out by its predecessors.

 

                                                                         

 

 

 Gamble's penchant for message for music wasn't just an artistic concession to a fertile period.  Spirituality, consciousness, and civic-mindedness were always in his DNA. Born the son of a devout Jehovah's Witness, during lean times a young Gamble and his family feasted at sumptuous banquets sponsored by Father Divine---the self-proclaimed god-in- person and leader of the Peace Mission, a predominately Black commune preaching self-sufficiency, racial harmony,  and civil rights. 

 

Like Marcus Garvey and Elijah Muhammad, Father Divine created a cooperative blueprint providing jobs, education, and housing for his congregation while feeding thousands of poor people during the Great Depression. The seminal spiritual leader would greet followers with a phrase destined to live on in Black vernacular, hip hop, and pop culture circles: peace. 

 

 The Nation of Islam's strong Philadelphia presence coupled with the Leon Sullivan and Cecil B. Moore's community activism were sources of inspiration and fueled Gamble's own spiritual, and community-based endeavors and of course----his song lyrics:

 

             "God is just a title

             It's like calling somebody/father/preacher/presidential/general

            Allah/Buddah/Hare Krishna/Jehovah/just to mention a few

            some people even call Jesus God too

            Love peace and eternal life is your reward

            to anyone who knocks on your door

            There's only one god is true/and all the names are not the same

            one day the people of the world will know your great name

            You are at the strong/you are the mighty

            I hope I'm with you when they start to fighting

            love, peace & eternal life is what I want"

               ---War of The Gods (1973)

 

 

 Heavenly father/creator of all things/I humble myself as I bow to your throne

           I pray for  love/ joy/peace and happiness to present in my home 

           And let your holy spirit dwell in my heart in my mind 

            ----A Prayer (1976)

            

          "Get in line/start marching in time/

            you better make up your mind/we're gonna leave you behind"

            ----Am I Black Enough For You (1973)

 

            "If you read in Proverbs 25:13
             You'd see where it says:
             As the cold of snow in the time of harvest

             so is a faithful messenger to them that send him:
              For he refresheth the soul of his masters
              He said get on up, get on up
               Get on up, go out and tell the world"

               ---Somebody Told Me (1977)

 

                                

            "How can you call me brother/when you ain't searchin' for the truth?"

               ----Don't Call Me Brother (1973)

          

                                

            "They played a game of divide of conquer/since the world began

              Tried their best/to separate the people/so we couldn't understand"

                ----Unity (1975)

 

 In time, there would be internal pushback. After recording five consecutive gold/platinum albums of socially-conscious music material between 1972-1977. The O'Jays were looking to leave the message songs behind. They would get their wish with 1978's million-seller So Full of Love featuring hits like Use To Be My Girl, Brandy, and Cry Together. In the years to come their concert setlists would exclude the bulk of their message material.

 

In 1972, journeyman singer Billy Paul stood on the cusp of superstardom with  Me and Mrs. Jones.  When his follow-up and Gamble-penned Am I Black Enough For You hit the airwaves, it alienated audiences. Paul never returned to pop success again and blamed Gamble for fumbling his career momentum. Over the years both would have differing accounts of the release that rested between being "artistically honest and commercially misguided."

 

Philly International compositions  Love Train, Me and Mrs. Jones, When Will I See You Again, and If You Don't Know Me By Now are highly clebrated in pop circles. Ballads You Got Your Hooks in Me,  Sunshine and I Hope We'll Be Together Soon are beloved by hardcore fans. Beyond major hits and fan favorites, PIR's creative ambition tends to get lost in the shuffle. 

 

 

                                                                         

 

The depth of the label's albums gave record buyers a total listening experience. O'Jays and  Blue Notes albums regularly sold gold or platinum, shattering the industry glass ceiling mentality that only singles drove Black record sales. 

According to LeBaron Taylor---"godfather" of Black crossover strategy and vice-president of CBS Records' special markets servicing Gamble and Huff material---by 1979, his division accounted for 40 per cent of the CBS roster, 25 percent of the label's roster and $97 million dollars in revenue. An early catalyst to this success was Gamble and Huff's output. 

 

One year of signing with CBS, Philly International would sell over 10 million records. I can't tell how many households I encountered as a kid that had Family Reunion and Wake Up Everybody in their album collections.      

Back in the late 80s---during Motown's resurgence as a legacy label, GQ Magazine featured an article by esteemed Rolling Stone music journalist Ben Fong-Torres questioning Philly International's ability to ascend to Motown's iconic status. PIR's artists were dismissed as "journeyman" acts (compared to Motown's galaxy of stars ) whose careers were revived by the Philly Soul Machine. 

 

As Motown basked in the glory of having their catalog reissued, reinterpreted, and appearing in films---Fong-Torres rendered the Philadelphia International catalog as unsuitable for box set reissue (there's four and counting). Thank god he was wrong. 

 

The legacy of Gamble (and his comrades) survives today having to weather the storm of disgruntled attitudes and less-than-favorable comments regarding PIR business and compensation practices during the label's glory days. 

 

Over the years Black music ended up in a strange place. In the 80s, R&B's champagne-and-roses aesthetic was considered a step behind hip hop's creative urgency. In the late 90s and early 2000s, both genres were split down the middle: female R&B fans on one side and male rap devotees on the other. Disputes over the definition of rap "lyricism" and "conscious artists" linger today. Aside from a select few, an artist's protest platform remains separate from their creative content.

I can remember a time when such divergents were nonexistent. When Black music could be inspirational and aspirational. When it revolved around its own orbit and its fan base was worth its weight in platinum and gold. The artistic gifts of the few were enjoyed from a distance by the many. Together both were in lockstep---bound by songs in the key life that celebrated the life of the everyman. Audiences were transfixed and rejuvenated by the message in the music. They responded to the call to understand while they danced. 

 

Kenny Gamble's lyrical genius displayed a keen observation that was sharp as a blade. His visionary master plan was as lofty as clouds in the sky. His gifts are forever immortal.