Ain’t no half-steppin’

11th November 2013   ·   0 Comments

By Edmund W. Lewis
Editor

Anyone old real payday loan companies online enough to remember the classic battles between Carter G. Woodson and Andrew J. Bell junior high schools in the 1970s and the legendary marching band matchups between schools like St. Aug, John F. Kennedy, Alcee Fortier, John McDonogh and McDonogh 35 in the 1980s know what a real marching band looks, moves and sounds like.

If you grew up in that era, you might be wondering why the Ohio State University Marching Band is getting so much credit lately for something Black junior high school, high school and college marching bands have been doing as long as anyone can remember.

Long before I had been to my first Bayou Classic game, the annual contest in New Orleans pitting Southern Univ­ersity against its Southwest Athletic Conference for and in-state rival Grambling State University, I can recall the excitement and anticipation that came with attending those legendary Bell-Woodson games. Again, for those not old enough to remember, this was back in the gap when the public school system used to invest in music education and parents supported young people’s musical develop­ment. The result was an explosion of musical talent whose impact is still being felt today.

Like many of my peers, I began playing music in elementary school, first playing cello at Bienville Elementary School before switching to the baritone at the suggestion of my band director, Mrs. Sheeler. While I practiced on the cello, the first song I “mastered” was Stevie Wonder’s “Isn’t She Lovely.” One of those who accompanied me during the band concert was Darren Hayes, a good friend who is perhaps best known these days as the famed LSU Honey Badger’s dad, who played sousaphone.

At Gregory, I learned a great deal about music, thanks to its band director Mr. Rudolph Valentino. We didn’t play a lot of the R&B tunes that schools like Bell, Woodson, Rivers Frederick Junior High and Kohn Middle School played, nor were we familiar with the dynamic marching-band styles that had been adopted from military groups and “souled up” by pioneering and innovative band directors like Lloyd Harris, Walter Harris, Meathead Richardson and the late Edwin Hampton, but we had great sound and musicianship. We would basically march out onto the field at halftime in a box formation, play a little music for the majorettes to twirl, shimmy and prance to, and march off the field in a box.

I remember when my pops took me to a ’35-Carver football game and I was hooked. That was the year Black folks all over America were groovin’ to a funked-up version of “A Fifth of Beethoven” and the Carver and ’35 bands blew the song at one another across the field as the two teams competed on the field. Then they took turns blowing songs like “Holiday,” “Bad Mamma Jamma” and a number of Earth Wind & Fire songs. I was bad credit loans for ssi in heaven and knew I was destined to go to ’35.

Once there, I rubbed shoulders daily with former Bell, Woodson, Lawless, Gregory and Kohn students who comprised the marching band. Under the direction of Mr. Lloyd Harris, we developed a tremendous love and respect for the power of music and marching bands to enrich people’s lives. In addition to teaching us to read and perform music, Mr. Harris taught us to open our minds to all forms of musical expression and to respect other bands’ marching and performance styles.

Because of those lessons, I loved watching Alcee Fortier High School’s band perform with those SU tassels on their helmets and the John Mac Marching Band from Trojan Land. To this day, I think of John Mac every time I hear Earth Wind & Fire’s “Can’t Let Go” — they toe it up on that song.

All of these high school bands brought something special and unique to the table, making it easy to embrace the richness and diversity of cultural expression in New Orleans. All of these bands borrowed from the military-band tradition but added a heavy dose of soul and attitude to the mix, forever changing the flavor and tone of marching-band performances.

Back to Ohio State.

I knew comedian Steve Harvey had to be joking when he said the Ohio State Marching Band was the best he had ever seen. Until I realized that he said it was the best he had ever seen.

But then I remembered that on at least one occasion he hosted the Bayou Classic Kickoff press conference in the Louisiana Superdome. Did he not even stay for the Bayou Classic or the Bayou Classic Battle of the Bands? Had he never been to a SU, FAMU, Jackson State or Grambling State football game?

It’s always amazing when Black institutions and individuals don’t get credit for cultural traditions and innovations deeply rooted in Black and African culture.

Kind of like when the LSU Golden Band from Tigerland started getting major attention for its rendition of funk-icon Cameo’s “Talkin’ Out The Side of Your Neck,” which I understand was taught to the LSU band by retired SU Director of Bands Dr. Isaac Greggs. There’s no doubt that the impressionable young band members were fast learners or that the soulful arrangement has caught the attention of football fans far and wide. Now you can’t turn on the TV on a Saturday and not hear another Southeastern Conference team or university across the Deep South playing the song. Even some of the local high schools, like Brother Martin, have caught on and added the song to their playlists.

For the record, the SU Human Jukebox still plays it better than LSU.

How much of the credit do you think Dr. Isaac Greggs or payday loan in fairview heights il the SU Human Jukebox will get for breathing new life into a funk classic?

Probably about as much as SU fans got from New Orleans Saints fans after the Jaguar Nation changed “who dat talking’ ‘bout beatin’ dem Jags?” for decades.

If OSU claims to be the best college marching band, it should take its game down to “Scot’s Bluff,” where the SU Human Jukebox and Dancing Dolls strut their stuff on Saturday nights,

Let’s follow the lead of the NCAA’s newly created BCS football playoff system and settle it on the field. Ain’t nothing to it but to do it.

To be honest, I would love to see OSU’s impressive band come down to the Big Easy and get into an old-school “Funk Train” battle with the SU Human Jukebox’s rhythm section. The Buckeyes should add Southern, JSU or any SWAC school to its football schedule and see how many “5th Quarters” they could win against these underappreciated musicians.

Nobody’s saying that the OSU marching band isn’t good. Nor is anyone saying that the band doesn’t deserve to be praised for its clever, entertaining performances.

What I and others are saying is that it is irritating and exhausting for people of color to watch our white brothers and sisters receive heaps of praise for cultural traditions and expressions that we have performed and perfected effortlessly all of our lives. The Buckeyes should give a little credit where credit is long overdue.

We’ve heard all of the stories growing up about how Black people have to be 10 times as good to get half the credit of their white counterparts. Many of us can think of a plethora of examples from grade school through retirement to support that adage. We can also think of examples of our white brothers and sisters getting treated like rock stars on shows like “Showtime at the Apollo” for simply knowing the lyrics to a popular R&B song or rocking to the beat. “We” have to try a little bit harder to get recognition and applause from some of our own as well as the larger society. That’s just the way it is.

There has been talk about how the OSU band has been using apps to design its memorable performances. While that’s cool, I must add that there is a long history of Black middle school, high school and college marching bands doing it the old-fashioned way: with graphs, charts and mathematical equations.

Cutting-edge technology and software can’t hold a candle to raw ingenuity and organic soul. Even the most dynamic computer on the planet is no match for the fertile human mind, y’knowhumsayin’?

Ain’t nothing like the real thing, baby.

This article originally published in the November 11, 2013 print edition of The Louisiana Weekly newspaper.