Why Solange’s 2016 release carries weight today
To paraphrase James Baldwin, to be Black and conscious is to be in a rage almost all the time, and if there was an apt time for such an expression to ring true, it would be today. 2020 has been a uniquely difficult time to be Black. From being inundated with reminders of our own mortality, to losing widely revered figures who had an integral role in our cultural fabric, there is a genuine concern that a refresh of a Twitter feed will conjure feelings of fear, anger or overwhelming sadness. Being Black and conscious in this day and age comes at an immeasurable cost, and there is no project that better captures the uneasiness that this point in time presents, and gives guidance with how to navigate it, than A Seat at the Table.
September 30th was the fourth anniversary of Solange’s 21-track, genre-bending third album. Though the project received numerous accolades and critical acclaim at its release, it is imperative to give A Seat at the Table its flowers today as a revolutionary encapsulation of Black trauma, grief and jubilation. To better understand the magnitude of A Seat at the Table, the sociopolitical context it emerged out of must be put into focus.
2016 was a particularly turbulent time to say the least. In July of that year, the state sanctioned murders of Alton Sterling and Philando Castile at the hands of law enforcement had given rise to widespread Black Lives Matter (BLM) demonstrations. A month prior, the Toronto chapter of BLM had organized a blockade of the Pride Parade, challenging the inclusivity of an event that had consistently neglected the interests of Black queer people in the city. At the beginning of September, and several weeks prior to A Seat at the Table’s release, Colin Kaepernick began the peaceful protests against police brutality and anti-Black racism that would result in his ultimate blackballing from the National Football League. The byline through all of this was the highly contentious 2016 US election, which a month after A Seat at the Table’s release, resulted in the election of Donald Trump.
These events, as well as centuries of systemic disenfranchisement and marginalization, unmistakably inform the direction of this album. A Seat at the Table’s brand of sociopolitical commentary does not take the abrasive and militant crusade for Black liberation that you would find on a Kendrick Lamar project. However, it is just as hypercritical and scathing. Solange’s approach to countering the repressive colonial structures that Black women in particular face is through a wholehearted embrace of what it means to be Black. From its lyrics to its sonic palette, which borrows heavily from New Orleans jazz and funk, and includes features from hip-hop royalty in André 3000 and Q-Tip, this album is a love letter to the multitude of artforms that Black people have pioneered.
Her journey towards this form of self-love is not an easy one, as the first third of this project is a truly cathartic experience, where Solange unloads the repressed feelings and sentiments she’s dealt with to the consistent subjugation (“Mad”) and futility (“Where Do We Go”) that she faces as a Black woman navigating a world crafted to keep her away from a proverbial seat at the table. These frustrations come to a head on the Grammy-winning “Cranes in the Sky”, where she details the self-destructive measures she uses to escape the burdens that Black women are expected to shoulder.
As the album progresses, the critiques of the Eurocentric world she inhabits become more explicit. This is especially apparent on the somber “Don’t Touch My Hair” track, where Solange uses the most ubiquitous microaggression, being asked by a non-Black person if they can touch your hair, as a motif to explain her unwillingness to downplay her racial identity. The horn infused “F.U.B.U.” is not only an ode to the staple of hip-hop fashion of the early 2000s, it is a reminder that despite the omnipresent societal conditions that discourage it, there is power and currency in being unabashedly Black. This is further accentuated by the interlude that precedes this track, where former Toronto Raptor (yes, former Raptor!) Master P details how his choice to remain independent led to the success of his black-owned record label, No Limit.
The latter portion of this album is devoted to finding cause for joy and self-care amidst strife, and the notion that living to see another day as a Black person is worth celebrating. “Junie” and “Borderline (An Ode to Self Care)” exemplify these sentiments both lyrically and sonically, as Solange urges Black women to make time for self-preservation over funky synths and jaunty piano flourishes. The most meaningful and resonant expression of this self-love mantra comes on the album’s heavenly concluding track “Scales”, where Solange and Kelela harmonize about defining self-worth through their own conceptions of Blackness, particularly through the haunting “you’re a superstar” refrains that are interspersed throughout the track’s duration.
A Seat at the Table is essential listening in 2020 because the same movements and important discussions that this album was born out of and represents, are occurring today in unprecedented fashion and magnitude. Activists and community-led movements have forced society at large to reckon with their understanding of race, their perception of law enforcement, and to determine what role they must play as allies. For those who have been attuned to these discussions their whole lives, this public reckoning has been an uneasy experience. Solange’s music, however, provides the template for how to reconcile those feelings of sadness and uneasiness, and to move forward with self-love. A wholehearted embrace of Blackness is by no means a cure to the microaggressions, institutionalized barriers and structural violence that Black people face. However, it is a crucial method of survival and self-preservation in a world designed without our interests in mind. Just being alive and Black in the world today is cause for celebration. In the words of Solange on “Scales”, “You’re a superstar/Always shining in the night/And your skin glowing in the moonlight”.