ROCK and Roll; An Unruly History (Harmony Books, 1995), by rock critic and enthusiast Robert Palmer, provides some insight into the rhythms of rock and roll.

The idea that certain rhythm patterns or sequences serve as conduits for spiritual energies, linking individual human consciousness with the gods, is basic to traditional African religions, and to African-derived religions throughout the Americas. And whether we’re speaking historically or musicologically, the fundamental riffs, licks, bass figures, and drum rhythms that make rock and roll rock can ultimately be traced back to African music of a primarily spiritual or ritual nature. In a sense, rock and roll is a kind of “voodoo,” rooted in a vigorous tradition of celebrating nature and spirit that’s far removed from the sober patriarchal values espoused by the self appointed guardians of Western culture. Rock and roll’s “jungle rhythms” — its rich and sophisticated rhythmic heritage — traveled from specific African cultures to the Caribbean (particularly Cuba) to the black churches of the rural South, from there into the local dance halls, and finally, through recording and broadcast media, into the popular culture at large. This journey, or process, is a central rock and roll paradigm.

Lionel Hampton’s tale of Whirling Willie is a perfect illustration of this rock and roll process at work. The whirling motif is reminiscent of an important Yoruba ritual from Nigeria and Dahomey, which Robert Farris Thompson’s African Art in Motion describes as “the whirling return of the Eternal Kings of Yorubaland.” This whirling dance is said to have originated with “a rich and powerful magician-king” who “turns round, round, round, round to show he has power.” (The Yoruba made up a substantial proportion of Africans brought as slaves to Cuba and the southern United States, and their highly developed urban culture and elaborate religion and metaphysics were influential far beyond their immediate tribal and kinship groups.)

More concretely, one can trace the same fundamental rhythm patterns from Yoruba to Afro-Cuban ritual, to the “ring shouts” of southern backwoods churches, to the “shout” rhythms of sanctified musicians such as Whirling Willie, and on into rhythm and blues, rock and roll, soul, funk, and hip-hop. During the late 1950s, shout rhythms surfaced in a particularly pure form in rock and roll hits such as the Isley Brothers’ “Shout” and Ray Charles’s “What’d I Say.” Before they were records, these songs were onstage improvisations, with performers and listeners “getting down” together in creative call-and-response communal ecstasy. (pp 55-56)

(By posting this, I am not suggesting blacks should be blamed for rock.)

Read more here.

— Comments —

Kathy G. writes:

I had a major paradigm shift on R&R after reading Dave McGowan’s book “Weird Scenes in the Canyon”. He basically reveals background and “coincidental” information on the early rock and “hippie” scenes, and even those odd “Manson family murders” that indicate none of it was organic, and most probably all a military psyop to destabilize the country. I grew up with this music, and loved much of it, only to discover I was manipulated, and led by it, and the rock “artists”. Here is a link, if you haven’t read it.

I also once ordered some CDs of a conference held by Catholic Family News, and included was a lecture given by Andrew Childs on the evolution of music. It was very interesting, pointing out the increasing emphasis on glorifying the performer/composer (think Mariah Carey’s vocal riffs showing off her range and power), rather than glorifying God, and the increasing prominence of more primitive rhythm and beat, rather than melody. Since then I’ve wondered about Paul Simon’s attraction to African music and change in style, after music like “The Boxer”, and “Sounds of Silence”. SMH, as they post these days.

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