The Elvis Presley movie came out this summer and it took the Internet very little time to remind the world how much of a culture vulture Elvis was. It got me thinking about all the future generations of White artists/entertainers we accused of stealing Black culture for profit and I was faced with the same old conundrum: when does culture appreciation become cultural appropriation? What moral authority do we have when it comes to deciding who is allowed to engage with a certain culture or not? Is gatekeeping, especially when it comes to art, honourable or petty? When it comes to music more specifically, what are the rules? When we talk about cultural appropriation, the general understanding is that a cultural element is being stolen by an “outsider”. But how can that be, if culture is not something to be owned, but rather embodied?
Elvis and Black Culture
There is no denying that there is no Elvis without Little Richard, no Elvis without Gospel music, and no Elvis without country music…Ain’t no Elvis without Black American culture. There isn’t anything that Elvis did that Black American artists didn’t do first. That’s an objective fact. But before making any judgements, let’s take a closer look at the relationship between Elvis and Black American culture.
Delving into Elvis’ past and discovering his musical influences was a treat for me. I always enjoy finding out what contributed to an artist’s development. The anecdote of him going to Black churches as a boy and witnessing Gospel music for the first time is one of the key explanations for the source of inspiration for his music. He got more exposure after moving to Memphis and seeing Black musicians perform in clubs, and he was in awe. From what it seems, Elvis was a genuine admirer and avid consumer of Black culture. At least from what sources can tell, Elvis claimed his love for Black culture and stated the influence it had on him. He even became friends with the cultural icons who had an impact on him, B.B. King being one of them. Elvis in a way was a product of the culture that influenced him and felt compelled to dabble in it. But it gets a little tricky when factoring in the recognition and reverence he got for his music; a luxury that his Black peers deserved but weren’t afforded.
When Elvis popped off on the scene, the girls went wild. His voice, his dancing, his looks, he was the whole package and was shot into stardom. Elvis Presley was deemed to be a revolutionary artist, an icon, and he was quickly nicknamed the King. But as Ray Charles put it, the King of what? Elvis was said to pioneer an entire genre that existed before he even started, and rose to fame for emulating so many legendary Black musicians such as Little Richard — the OG King of Rock n’ Roll. Black musicians were shunned from the mainstream and their stardom was stunted by racism, yet once their music was rebranded and presented in a pretty (White) package, it was ready to be palatable to the White masses. Unfortunately for Elvis, even though he did appreciate Black culture, he became a tool for labels to perpetuate their twisted racist double standards and make bank in the process.
Where does that leave us in terms of Elvis being a cultural appropriator? Was he allowed to make the music that inspired him, even though his influences didn’t look like him? Is he to blame for the treatment of his contemporaries? Did he bear a responsibility to elevate his peers, or would that have been condescending if he had? Where do we draw the line?
Who’s Invited to the Cookout?
To help in answering these questions, let’s play a little game called Who’s Invited to the Cookout? Being invited to the cookout is a metaphor that is colloquially used to show that a non-Black person can be vouched for. As the contenders for this game, I will be using modern R&B, Hip-hop and Rap artists. Here is my list: Jon B, Justin Timberlake, the boyband 98 Degrees, and last but not least, Jack Harlow. You will understand where I’m going with this after. Let’s get started, shall we?
Jon B, for me, is one of the artists who fuel my Y2K R&B nostalgia. I grew up watching 106&Park on BET, and “Don’t Talk” is part of the soundtrack to my childhood (before any of y’all ask, yes I was very young but I still knew what was up when it came to music thanks to my older cousins). But I include Jon B in this discussion because he is one of the rare examples of a White artist who was completely embraced into the R&B genre. His musical street cred comes from working with icons like Babyface, Michael Jackson and Toni Braxton. Plus, he got a few certified bops under his belt like “They Don’t Know”, and “Are U Still Down” ft. Tupac — I mean, come on. His respect and appreciation for the genre are clear, and if his cosigns1 don’t prove it I don’t know what will. So what’s the verdict? Jon B’s invite to the cookout is accepted✅.
Justin Timberlake is a bit of a contentious choice. After separating from NSYNC, Justin rose to stardom with his breakout single “Like I Love You”, and marked his place in the R&B genre. He and his team knew what they were doing because from that point on, he worked with the best: Timbaland and The Neptunes, who produced his hit records. So the music was authentic (and really good might I add)…but I’m not so sure he was. Justin was known for putting on a “blaccent” from his NSYNC days and amped it up once he went solo (the intro to the song linked above should give you a perfect example). To add insult to injury, he hasn’t been the most respectful towards icons in the genre. The way he handled the Janet Jackson Super Bowl nip slip, and how he mocked Prince at the 2007 Golden Globes… makes his participation in the culture appear a little gimmicky and forced. Nevertheless, Justin Timberlake has established himself in the genre, he’s worked with geniuses, and has undeniable bops. With ever the slightest reluctance, Justin Timberlake’s invite to the cookout is accepted✅. But he got one strike left.
Now I had to do some mini research for this one. 98 Degrees was not in my musical ecosystem, so I had to do some Googles. After a few clicks on YouTube, I found their leading singles and went into a laughing fit when watching their music videos — they were peak 90s corniness. Anyways…I digress! I added 98 Degrees because I remembered a very important detail, from watching the Netflix show This Is Pop (more specifically, the first episode, “The Boyz II Men Effect”). In light of the tremendous success of Boyz II Men, record labels and talent agencies were scrambling to cash in on the boyband craze. The way they went about it was to send out casting calls which read a little something like this: “CASTING CALL! SEEKING SINGERS! Must have New Kids on The Block look with Boyz II Men Sound”. Yeah. So 98 Degrees was born out of that. The members never denied their awe and appreciation for Boyz II Men. But the fact that the band was meant to be a White version of the group cannot be overlooked. So, you guessed it: their invite is denied❌.
Finally, we have the most recent of the bunch: Jack Harlow. I can write an entire article on this “rap phenomenon” but I’ll make do with a short paragraph for now. Jack Harlow came out of nowhere, looking the way he looks, talking the way he talks, and rapping the way he raps. He became a heartthrob overnight for doing absolutely nothing, and he doesn’t have the music to back it up — in my humble opinion. But apparently, I need to get with the program because he got everybody and their mama cosigning: Drake, Kanye West, Boi-1da, DJ Drama, etc. Harlow made a name for himself in the Hip hop and Rap industry this past year or so (maybe even for the past two years). He’s proclaimed his love for the Rap genre, having grown up with it, and insists on his respect for the Black community (he went viral for proclaiming his love for his Black female fans). Given all of this, the general public would let him come to the cookout without a problem; so his invite is accepted✅ — he’s harmless, so I’ll let him in, but he can’t sit at my table. I’m just not that convinced because he hasn’t proven to bring anything interesting to the table, as far as his music goes.
Personal opinions aside, we can see a pattern here: artists who enjoy a certain type of music to the point where they want to make it. This is what I would call the “Elvis Presley Pipeline”. Elvis — not the person, but rather what he represented — set the pace for future (White male) music celebrities to be accepted in Black spaces, i.e. music genres that are performed by Black artists, such as R&B, Hip hop, and Rap. From my observations, Elvis marked this trend of White or non-Black musicians/artists/entertainers dabbling in Black music genres and making a name for themselves in the process. And just like Elvis, whether or not their participation in the genre would be considered “theft” or a “genuine contribution” is in question.
Connecting the Dots
This exercise was to show the different checkpoints that come up when deciding if an artist/entertainer is appropriating or appreciating a culture that isn’t their own: the level of talent, and the respect for the genre (R&B, Hip hop, Rap, etc.). Gatekeeping is essentially what it is because we are demanding that these White artists prove themselves, and demonstrate that they are worthy of participating in a “Black genre”, of engaging with Black culture.
On one hand, the talent factor I feel plays a huge role in deciding whether or not an artist/entertainer is “allowed” to participate in a genre that isn’t “racially theirs” because if they’re good at it, it’s a pass. Their talent draws the line between someone who’s true to this, and not new to this; it shows when someone is meant to be making a certain type of music and not doing it just cause. It is a marker of authenticity. On the other hand, the respect for the genre is demonstrated through an acclaimed love and admiration for the said genre and its trailblazers. This respect is also shown in their choice of collaborators and reciprocated in established (Black) artists cosigning them. In addition to that, there always seems to be this PSA moment in which they emphasize that they grew up listening to the genre, and express their heartfelt connection to the style of music.
I used the metaphor of being invited to the cookout because it’s helpful imagery that captures the thought process behind accepting someone into a space we deem they don’t belong in. To prove their worthiness, we make them jump through hoops. But talking about culture being appropriated vs appreciated, it is simplifying the myriad of nuances involved in this discussion. It is confounding racial identity with culture and in the process, reaffirms the divisions between groups. Listen… As a music snob, I am the first one to insist on the sanctity of genres like R&B, Neo-soul, Funk, Hip hop, etc. — musical genres we assign to Black American culture. And I’m also the first to admit that I am always skeptical (and judgemental) about a non-Black artist stepping into that arena. I kind of snitched on myself when playing Who’s Invited to the Cookout?. But then I have to ask myself (and I extend these questions to you): how fair is it to decide whether or not someone should make music of a particular style? If that person felt compelled to do so because they love it so much, who are we as consumers, to shut that down? Am I willing to let someone’s skin colour affect the way I receive their music?
Final Thoughts…
This is my very roundabout way of saying that I do not believe in cultural appropriation anymore. I think using music as one example helps prove that. Looking into history to understand the origins of a genre, an artist, or a trend puts things into perspective and shows how interconnected everything is.
Culture is way too nuanced and fluid to speak about in binary, limited, possessive terms. As I stated in the introduction, culture is not something we own, but rather embody; it is something we do. It is not something a group possesses, but rather practices. Culture is artistic expression, language, values and norms, belief systems, etc. Culture is discursive. It ebbs and flows, it is in constant development and constant negotiation. It is an exchange. Everything is influenced by everything. Insisting on labelling and categorizing culture as exclusively belonging to one group and not the other, disrupts that natural flow. Feeling protective of one’s culture is a natural reflex, especially given the many injustices that occurred in the past. But sometimes, the very thing we try to prevent, we perpetuate.
FYI
Vanity Fair, "What Did Black Artists Really Think of Presley?"
Rolling Stone, "Did Elvis Presley Steal 'Hound Dog' From Big Mama Thornton?
Sheena Mason, The Qualm of "Black Art" with Greg Thomas
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when an artist cosigns another one, it means they approve of their work; a seal of approval, if you will.