Brothers Gonna Work It Out.

Driving home from work yesterday I was listening one of the local college stations and they played this song, the first time I ever heard it on the radio:



This one song, the first time I heard it - leading off one of the greatest rap (and political) albums of all time, Fear of a Black Planet - I was mesmerized. I was shaken by the sound and, especially, by the power of the lyrics. Things my lily-white ass had never heard a black person saying before. At least not in rap music. I spent the next hour or so sitting by my stereo with the lyrics booklet reading along with each song. It struck me as poetry - very truthful and candid political poetry.

In 1995, you'll twist to this
As you raise your fist to the music
United we stand, yes divided we fall
Together we can stand tall
Brothers that try to work it out
They get mad, revolt, revise, realize
They're super bad
Small chance a smart brother's
Gonna be a victim of his own circumstance
Sabotaged, shellshocked, rocked and ruled
Day in the life of a fool
Like I said before to live it low
Life - take your time, yo go slow
Look here, not a thing to fear
Brother to brother not another as sincere
Teach a man how to be father
To never tell a woman he can't bother
You can't say you don't know
What I'm talkin' 'bout
But one day...the brothers gonna work it out

This one album alone is what set me off into almost two decades of political contemplation that is only now starting to taper off or, rather, evolve into something else.

But anyway, I enjoyed listening to the song in my car. All my gratitude to Chuck D, Flava Flav & Terminator X this morning. Wherever they may be.