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2012 GRAMMY Hall Of Fame Selections Announced

Selections include recordings by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Gloria Gaynor, Grandmaster Flash & The Furious Five, the Rolling Stones, Santana, Bruce Springsteen, and Tina Turner

GRAMMYs/Dec 3, 2014 - 05:06 am

Continuing the tradition of preserving and celebrating great recordings, The Recording Academy has announced the newest additions to its GRAMMY Hall Of Fame, adding 25 recordings to a collection that now totals 906 titles. The collection is on display at the GRAMMY Museum.

"The Recording Academy is dedicated to celebrating a wide variety of great music and sound through the decades," said Neil Portnow, President/CEO of The Recording Academy. "We are especially honored to welcome this year's selection of some of the most influential recordings of the last century. Marked by both cultural and historical significance, these works truly have influenced and inspired audiences for generations, and we are thrilled to induct them into our growing catalog of outstanding recordings."

Representing a variety of tracks and albums, the 2012 GRAMMY Hall Of Fame inductees range from Bruce Springsteen's Born In The U.S.A. album to civil rights activist Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.'s "I Have A Dream" speech from his historic 1963 address at the March on Washington. Also on the list are Bill Cosby's comedy album I Started Out As A Child, Gloria Gaynor's "I Will Survive," Grandmaster Flash & The Furious Five's single "The Message," the original Broadway cast recording of "St. Louis Woman," Cole Porter's "Anything Goes," the Rolling Stones' album Exile On Main St., and Tina Turner's "What's Love Got To Do With It." Others inductees include the Anthology Of American Folk Music, and recordings by Gene Autry; Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young; Doris Day; the Serge Koussevitzky-conducted Boston Symphony Orchestra; Los Panchos; Santana; and Paul Simon, among others.

Highlighting diversity and musical excellence, the GRAMMY Hall Of Fame acknowledges singles, individual tracks and album recordings of all genres at least 25 years old that exhibit qualitative or historical significance. Through a tradition established nearly 40 years ago, recordings are reviewed annually by a special member committee comprising eminent and knowledgeable professionals from all branches of the recording arts, with final approval by The Recording Academy's National Board of Trustees.

For a complete list of 2012 GRAMMY Hall Of Fame inductees click here. For a list of previous Hall Of Fame selections, click here.

Tune in to the 54th Annual GRAMMY Awards live from Staples Center in Los Angeles on Sunday, Feb. 12, 2012, at 8 p.m. ET/PT on CBS. For updates and breaking news, please visit The Recording Academy's social networks on Twitter and Facebook.
 

On 'You're The One,' Rhiannon Giddens' Craft Finds A Natural Outgrowth: Songwriting
Rhiannon Giddens

Photo: Ebru Yildiz

interview

On 'You're The One,' Rhiannon Giddens' Craft Finds A Natural Outgrowth: Songwriting

Most know Rhiannon Giddens for her multimedia work exploring American musics and how they relate to race in America. 'You're The One,' her first album of original material, is subtly and rewardingly in dialogue with this space.

GRAMMYs/Aug 16, 2023 - 06:38 pm

At a vibey, wood-paneled listening party in Williamsburg, Rhiannon Giddens felt exposed. Chiefly known as an interpreter and a cultural surveyor — both as a solo artist and for her work with the Carolina Chocolate Drops — the singer had distributed the lyrics to her new album, You're the One.

The assembled were welcoming and supportive; Nonesuch Records president David Bither was there in her corner, and delivered heartfelt remarks at the outset. Still, on a WhatsApp call weeks after, Giddens admitted she felt "awkward as hell." But that's OK, she explains.

"I'm very comfortable doing the things that I've been doing, so it can become a death knell for an artist to be super comfortable," she tells GRAMMY.com. "So I think it was time to step out a little bit and go, 'OK, so this is what happened.'

"But I don't talk about slavery, and I don't talk about civil rights," the two-time GRAMMY winner — and Pulitzer winner — continues. "This is a different way of being, and just as valid."

Giddens is referring to her work in a litany of fields — opera, documentary, ballet, podcasting, and more. Therein, she's aimed to plumb "difficult and unknown chapters of American history" through musical lenses, like the evolution of the banjo from Africa to Appalachia.

Out Aug. 18, You're the One is more eye-to-eye than Giddens' other works; she sings in first person, and deals in themes of romance and devotion, as with the glowing and companionable title track.

There's also a razzing kiss-off ("If You Don't Know How Sweet It Is") — and a brooding, socially conscious moment in the form of "Another Wasted Life," about the suicide of Kalief Browder at Riker's Island.

But despite these more direct expressions, Giddens hasn't simply pivoted from sociological to confessional; that's a binary that can be put to bed.

I'm drawing a little bit more from my experience, but I had to draw from my experience to write other people's stories," she says. "There's emotions that I feel that I then translate into these other stories, so I don't think this record is completely different from that [mode of expression]."

In that way,
You're the One isn't a left turn for Giddens; it's another branch on her evermore sprawling tree. Read on for an interview with the singer-now-songwriter about how it came to be, her recent team-ups with Paul Simon and much more.

This interview has been edited for clarity.

At the Brooklyn listening party, was it vulnerable to reveal your songwriting side?

Totally. I felt like I was awkward as hell. I'm very comfortable talking about other people's stories, and that's what I've been drawn to my whole career as an interpreter.

Even as a songwriter, I am inspired by historical stories and wanting to write them. It's one of the reasons why I'm doing this, because the job of the artist is to always grow.

Yeah, it does feel vulnerable. Because it's like, I don't really like talking about myself. It's not like these are all Taylor Swift-type "ripped from my soul and my experience" songs.

But obviously, to write any song you have to pull on experiences, and whatever you do with them — whether you exaggerate them or change them — you're still pulling on yourself more. So, it's been interesting.

What kicked you into gear to do this? To express how you feel, rather than tell other people's stories?

Well, it doesn't express how I feel, though. This is the thing: they're still songs, and it's still a performance.

I'd say I'm drawing a little bit more from my experience, but I had to draw from my experience to write other people's stories. There's emotions that I feel that I then translate into these other stories, so I don't think this record is completely different from that.

There's a couple that are responses to experiences in my life, and then there's a bunch where I'm playing with styles and I'm playing with strong women's voices, and I'm playing with being inspired by all of these artists that have come before me.

So, it's kind of a mixture of these things.

You're right. There doesn't have to a be a binary between diaristic and impersonal.

Yeah, totally. 

And I do feel like I'm a more old-fashioned songwriter in that way — in that I really love form and I really love words, and I really love wordplay, and I really love taking an idea and really kind of running with it rather than more of a personal response to something that happened in my life.

I guess "You're the One" is probably the closest to that. That, I wrote purely out of this feeling that I had when I had my son. And I'd had really bad postpartum depression with my daughter, which kind of puts a curtain in between you and your emotions. It's really tough to get through that.

So when I had another kid and I didn't have that and I felt all of that joy — for both of my children. Obviously, I love them the same.

But I recognized that feeling more after the birth of my son because I recognized, Oh, this is what happens when you don't have postpartum depression. That's amazing. And I felt all of that. But that's probably the only one that's a pure response.

I love how universally applicable it is.

You can do "You're the One" at a wedding. It doesn't necessarily say, You're a baby.

That's what I think is really interesting about songs; as long as the emotion is pure, that forms the core of it. It can then represent so many different things, depending on how it's written. I love those stories of a song: somebody writes it because of x, and then everybody thinks it's because of y.

What else is sourced from your personal experience?

"If You Don't Know How Sweet It Is" started as a poem when I was kind of teed off at somebody who kind of left my music or whatever. It was a professional relationship that went south, and I kind of went, "Man, you don't know how good it is," and I just kind of wrote this little piece.

Then, I turned it into a marriage song, turned it into more of a Dolly Parton kind of [song] — this is a moment where this woman is fed up with this husband who has taken her for granted. 

So, there's a bunch of [those songs], where I kind of take these emotions that may or may not be really represented. [Any given song] may have come from situations that may or may not be represented in what the final song is.

Tell me how you wanted You're the One to impact people on an aural level.

I was sitting on all these songs that I've written over the last 14 years and haven't had a home. I knew this was my chance to explore other soundworlds. I knew these songs needed more than a banjo, a fiddle and a frame drum. They needed more contemporary sounds.

So, we reached out. My manager suggested Jack Splash, and I knew that he had done Valerie June — and of course, she's in the club; I've known her for a long time. I was like, Well, if he worked with her, he's probably going to have an idea of what to do with me.

I met with him, and I was very quickly like, "Look, I really want you to be creative and I want you to bring your whole box of sounds, but I also want to bring my sounds." I didn't want to say Hey, put all your production on these and whatever. I wanted it to be a mixture of my sounds and his sounds — his musicians and my musicians.

So we did a real old-fashioned recording session where we had everybody there the whole time. It was like six days. "You Louisiana Man" was the first one we did, and that one was like 11 people on the floor, I think, at the same time recording. It was amazing.

I brought my folks, he had his folks, and it was a real beautiful mixture of styles and vibes. I think it's unique. You can't really place it. It's got some retro feel, it's got some modern feel, it's got some old-timey feeling sounds, and that's what I wanted.

That's the platonic ideal, right? The music being made together, in real time.

That's what I think. That's what I like.

Now, I know that there's a type of music that you make that's basically the engineer, the producer's making it, you know what I mean? And the different musicians, like he's the conductor. And that's fine. And it's not to pooh-pooh that, but it's not the way I want to make music.

I was kind of like, "Take my advance. I don't care if I make any money from this. I need us to put the money towards having the bodies in the space."

Because when we're bringing together all these varied things — electric bass, and drums, and organ, and congas, and accordion, and fiddle, and Congolese acoustic guitar — overdubs are not going to work. It's just going to be Jack's sound with a little bit of me on top, or a little bit of accordion or synths or something.

I was like, "That's boring. Can we not do that?" I really wanted us to find a sound that we couldn't have found any other way than being in the room.

Most know you via your interrogations of the history of American music, and your explorations of these wonderful instruments. Where are you at currently with this subject?

The more that I investigate, the more I'm just like: it's so complicated. And the real story is always more interesting than the one that we're fed, but it's always more complicated.

It's multicultural. That's what I'm finding: when you bring people together who want to listen to each other, you find new forms of music. That's just the facts. So, it's the genre thing. I'm going to continue to fight against it.

People always ask me, What is it that I play? And I'm like, "You tell me because I don't care." You know what I mean? "Put whatever box you need to put me in to sell my s—, but I'm not going to self-identify outside of American acoustic music. That's what I do."

I think we look at the wrong categories. I'd rather know: is the music highly produced and electric or is it acoustic? Is the music slow or is it fast? Is the music for dancing or is it songs that don't have a particular dance beat? Is the music based on riffs or is it [not]?

What does R&B mean? What does rock mean? That changes every five minutes, and it doesn't tell anything about what the music actually is. And if it does, it puts it in a box and you may not listen to it because you think what it is.

So I get why they do it, but I just think it's really destructive to innovation and what American music really stands for, which is mixture.

Another person who's very interested in exploring the intricacies of American music is Jason Isbell. Can you talk about working with him on "Yet to Be"?

It was a lot of fun. I wish I could have been there when he did it. I Zoomed in.

He's just so great. And look, we have one of these 21st-century Twitter relationships. We comment on each other's Twitter sometimes. And I have watched him, from afar, be an amazing advocate, a very smart musician and social media person.

I love the way that he interacts with his fans. I love how he's supported Black women musicians, and putting his money where his mouth is. And I just love the way that he moves in the world.

So it just seemed like a really natural fit to get him to sing on this song, and he just knocked it out of the park. It was really, really great.

What do you want You're the One to be a bridge to in your musical life?

I'm just excited to do what I do. I feel very lucky. I get to make the music I want to make with the people that I want to make it with.

I'm not famous. I have a nice-sized, very committed following. I can put on tours and pay my musicians what I should pay them, and earn a living. I just want to keep doing that, and telling stories, and raising other people up, and using my platform for the things that matter to me. 

So if this record can bring me to audiences that maybe wouldn't have given me a second listen, that'd be amazing. Maybe it doesn't. Maybe nobody cares. I just make the songs and see where they go and just keep going with that.

I'm looking to have a really good time on tour with my wonderful musician friends and just keep doing the do. It's a rough world out there right now. So I'm just trying to use my time in front of people for as good of things as I can. So, that's what I got.

I've got to ask about Paul Simon. I'm a devotee. You've sang with him in the recent past, including "Homeward Bound: A GRAMMY Salute to the Songs of Paul Simon."

I didn't really realize how much of a soundtrack his music has been of my life until I was waiting to go on and listening to all the songs going, Oh my god, I know all of these. He's such an amazing songwriter. And working with him for "American Tune" is just one of the highlights of my life.

Not just because it's Paul Simon. I mean, yeah, he's an amazing musician, but the experience that we had working together on that, him changing those words for me to sing it and me kind of taking this song in and going, Wow, this is exactly how I feel right now. It's exactly how people that I know feel, and he wrote it before I was born.

And I think for him to see another artist of a different generation making it her own right in front of his face, [it's impactful], you know what I mean? I cried during the dress rehearsal. I was just feeling it. So that was a really powerful experience and I will always treasure it. 

It was unexpected. It came at the last minute. I respect him a lot for being willing to do it. And as I like to say to people, nobody has the monopoly on doing the right thing and on wanting to comment on what's going on right now.

And yeah, he's an old white guy, but dang, he didn't have to do nothing but sit back and collect his checks. He made a statement with that song, and I don't want to take that away from him. I didn't change those words; he changed those words.

I remember seeing you perform "American Tune" together at Newport Folk 2022. He said something to the effect of, "This will have more resonance if Rhiannon sings with me."

The thing is the words that he changed, particularly the line about the Mayflower. Originally, it was like, "We came here on the Mayflower." And then he changed it to, "We didn't come here on the Mayflower.

99 percent of the people who live in America don't have ancestors that came on the Mayflower. You know what I mean? It's not just about Black people, it's not just about me. It opens up that song for everybody. And I think that that's really important, because we need to come together in any way that we can. It's an incredible song.

I became the focal point for that, obviously, because I was singing the song. But it is never really about me. I don't really like focusing on What does it mean for me to do it?  it really gives that song a whole new life for anybody else who wants to sing it.

I think that's really powerful, and I'm just glad that he was open to doing it. And that we got a chance to not just do it once — but twice.

15 Essential Tracks By Paul Simon: "The Sound of Silence," "The Boxer," "Bridge Over Troubled Water," & More

Essential Hip-Hop Releases From The 1970s: Kurtis Blow, Grandmaster Flash, Sugarhill Gang & More

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Essential Hip-Hop Releases From The 1970s: Kurtis Blow, Grandmaster Flash, Sugarhill Gang & More

Releases from the 1970s demonstrate the many ways that hip-hop would be much more than a fleeting fad. In celebration of the 50th anniversary of hip-hop, revisit five releases from a decade that created the culture's framework.

GRAMMYs/Jul 6, 2023 - 03:10 pm

By the time Sugar Hill Gang’s "Rapper’s Delight" hit radio in 1979, early adopters of burgeoning hip-hop culture dismissed it as novelty — an easy cash grab capitalizing on organic artistry they lived and created. The culture's originators were youngsters who saw graffiti and breakdancing be both vilified and celebrated, all within a decade. But "Rappers’ Delight," not only charted but was for many a first peek into a new culture that was developing in poor parts of New York.

A lifetime transpired between the late ‘70s and early ‘80s. The Incredible Bongo Band’s 1972 track "Apache," for example, was an early anthem of pioneering b-boys and b-girls, but a mere few years later became the anchor sample for Sugarhill Gang’s 1981 comeback single of the same name. Much of what was released in the early part of the decade scaffolded the genre’s musical onslaught.

Lyrical content provided by the Watts Prophets, Gil Scott Heron, and the Last Poets had positioned socially-minded spoken word as a tool to shed light on conditions plaguing disadvantaged neighborhoods, racial politics, and more. There’s a direct corollary between their worldviews, spoken with grace and quiet ferocity, to songs like "The Message" (by Grandmaster Flash & the Furious Five) almost a decade later.

The foreground to the ‘70s was rich with instances of proto-rap, but even a decade prior, Pigmeat Markham recorded an aesthetically traceable precursor to the ‘70s sound with "Here Comes The Judge," a curio replete with dialogue skits, breakbeats, and rap verses. Released on Chess Records in 1968, it’s closely akin to Fatback Band's "Personality Jock," a one-off funk tune that preceded many at the time.

The production and music from these early hip-hop artists was relentlessly avant-garde. Joe Bataan’s 1979 upbeat Latin-influenced disco single, "Rap-O-Clap-O" set an early example of mixing  genres and became rap’s debut in the European market. Three years later, Afrika Bambaataa's "Planet Rock" fused rap with German electro.

By very late 1979, Kurtis Blow’s "Christmas Rappin’" enters the picture, a song that starts off not unlike a children’s song with "Twas the night before Christmas." Not only was it huge but was another example of rap’s boundless sound and potential.

These early recordings gave way to Kurtis Blow's breakthrough single "The Breaks" in 1980, which propelled Blow into early-rap superstardom as the first artist to sign to a major label — though, in hindsight, this was perhaps more of a breakthrough for the medium than the signee. Along with films and growing radio presence,  hip-hop became the predominant source of new ideas at the beginning of the ‘80s.

Releases from the 1970s demonstrate the many ways that hip-hop would be much more than a fleeting fad. Although it was eventually exploited and commercialized in the coming years, the late ‘70s produced some of the culture’s most essential music, providing a meaningful framework for its explosive development in the ‘80s. What occurred in the late ‘70s, however, were indispensable releases that furthered the culture; here are some very important ones.

Fatback Band - "Personality Jock" (1979)

Although not a "rap" record per se, Fatback Band’s "Personality Jock" in 1979 preceded Sugar Hill Gang’s "Rapper’s Delight" by about seven months. While no doubt a funk record, which was Fatback’s reputation, there's an undeniable end segment which is early rapping on record. At the song’s end, the funk gives way to King Tim III — sounding like a sixth member of the Furious Five — who steals the show. 

Years later, in a 2016 interview for Nerdtorious, Bill Curtis, Fatback’s nucleus and bandleader, remembered "Personality Jock’s" impact: "There was rapping in the Bronx and the cats there had been doing it for a while. So Fatback certainly didn’t invent rap or anything. I was just interested in it and I guess years later we were one of the first to record it… but it was already becoming all around us by then. It’s very hard to say who is the first but they credit Fatback as the first so I’m proud of that." 

Kurtis Blow - "Christmas Rappin" (1979)

Kurtis was rap’s first, perfect ambassador — clean cut and jheri-curled, he was a wholesome standout for the culture. Due in part to his early successes like "The Breaks," rap's first gold record, Blow was selling out stadiums in Japan by the '80s. Released during the holiday season in 1979,  "Christmas Rappin" was an audacious attempt at a newfound yuletide anthem. The industry took notice: Blow's debut single  signaled rap’s potential as a monetary gamechanger, and cemented Blow as one of its shimmering prodigies. 

In an interview with Wax Poetics, Blow described how the record came about: "Writers from Billboard magazine came to Hotel Diplomat one night when I was performing with [Grandmaster] Flash and they wanted to do a record with me. They wanted to pay for the studio time, promotion, flights, all of that. We went in and cut Christmas Rap."  The single was massive, the first to [be] released by a major label, preceding RUN-D.M.C.’s "Christmas in Hollis," selling an estimated 400,000 copies once released.  

Funky Four Plus One More - "Rappin' and Rocking The House" (1979)

Bronx-bred Funky Four Plus One More were not only one of larger, solely rap groups at the time, they were also the first to prominently feature a woman. Sha Rock, who proudly proclaims herself as the first female rapper, concisely says this on the track: "We're two DJs and five MCs. Four other fellas plus one is me!" For perspective, this was a whole five years before the mighty Roxanne Shanté even emerged. 

At 9-plus minutes, "Rappin' and Rocking"  was the first time  group dynamics were on full display with interchanging rhyme schemes.  Some of the techniques from rap's first mixed-gender crew became standard practice for groups that followed– Grandmaster Flash And The Furious Five among them. While the song never made a commercial splash, it nevertheless propelled the group (and hip-hop) into the limelight. The Funky Four Plus One More became the first rap act to perform on national television in 1981, as the musical guest on "Saturday Night Live," which Deborah Harry hosted. 

Grandmaster Flash & the Furious Five - "Superrappin’" (1979)

So much advancement in early DJ culture wouldn’t have occurred without Grandmaster Flash, a true innovator who built a mixer that enabled all future DJs to experiment with two turntables. 

Flash’s very first official release, a 12-minute cut called "Supperrappin’," was a watershed moment  for one of hip-hop’s true technical innovators who had a talented personnel of five beneath him. With long instrumental breaks and lots of in-and-out group rapping, the single couched serious societal stress into its exuberant verses.. It also signaled the arrival of Melle Mel, who would go down as possibly the most revered MC of this early era of which the likes of Chuck D, Rakim, and DMC still cite as utmost influential.   

Sugarhill Gang - "Rapper’s Delight" (1979)

Sylvia Robinson (of Mickey & Sylvia fame) had a legendary third act, one that would forever alter hip-hop’s trajectory. "Rapper's Delight" is the monumental record that broke rap into the mainstream. Robinson, perhaps hip-hop’s most important producer of this early era, corralled locals ("Big Bank Hank" Jackson, "Wonder Mike" Wright, and "Master Gee" O'Brien) who were open to putting their rhymes onto record — something that, in some ways, was considered taboo at the time — with the mindset that hip-hop was a living document. 

Robinson nevertheless tasked her in-house band play Chic’s "Good Times" on loop after loop— but it didn’t take long, supposedly "Rapper's Delight" is one of those capstone songs that was recorded in a single take, propelling her label, Sugar Hill Records, founded by her and her husband Joe, into the mainstream. It peaked at No. 4  on the Hot Soul Singles chart in 1979, and lodged  itself on international charts in the UK, Netherlands, and Spain. As the '70s ended, and as history would prove, there was no other song that can lay claim to the immense impact "Rapper's Delight" had on ushering in rap’s ‘80s era.    

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The Evolution Of The Queer Anthem: From Judy Garland To Lady Gaga & Lil Nas X
(Top row) Donna Summer, Frank Ocean, Madonna, Lady Gaga, David Bowie, Nina Simone (Bottom row) Culture Club, Lil Nas X, Beyonce, Diana Ross

Photos: Michael Ochs Archives/Getty Images; Visionhaus#GP/Corbis via Getty Images; Gie Knaeps/Getty Images; Kevin Mazur/Getty Images for Live Nation; Robin Platzer/Getty Images; Photo by David Redfern/Redferns; Mason Poole Ebet Roberts/Redferns; Amy Sussman/Getty Images; PATRICK T. FALLON/AFP via Getty Images

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The Evolution Of The Queer Anthem: From Judy Garland To Lady Gaga & Lil Nas X

Music is a creative tool of liberation, with queer communities finding meaning — overt or otherwise — in songs by a myriad of artists. GRAMMY.com unpacks the long history of queer anthems, from a 1920s cabaret to the top of the charts.

GRAMMYs/Jun 5, 2023 - 01:50 pm

When a young Judy Garland sang "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" in 1939, dreaming of a more exciting, joyous and colorful life elsewhere, few might have known that her words would go on to inspire generations of queer people who found a glimmer of freedom where "the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true."

For decades, if not longer, music has continued to serve as a creative tool of liberation, with queer communities finding meaning — overt or otherwise — in songs either written directly for them or appropriated from the work of (seemingly) straight artists. Often with time, but occasionally immediately, such music becomes a queer anthem. While pride in one’s identity has often been a central theme, these anthems have also tackled the communal trauma — from the HIV/AIDS epidemic to discrimination that continues to this day. 

As the messages and musical styles have adapted with the times, what’s most powerful in the evolution of queer anthems is just how much more openly gay they have become. An increasing number of artists are able to unabashedly express their identity, including in genres that have been traditionally reticent or hostile to minorities. Tracing the history of the queer anthem provides an opportunity to see how far the LGBTQ+  community has come, and how creative expression can be used to fight for rights that are still being threatened. 

Press play on the Spotify playlist below, or visit Apple Music, Pandora or Amazon Music for an accompanying playlist of queer anthems.

In Glitter Up the Dark: How Pop Music Broke the Binary, music writer Sasha Geffen explores the history of queer anthems past and present.

"I think it's important to honor these ancestors in the queer narrative and point to how things don't always go from worse to better," Geffen tells GRAMMY.com. "Right now in our current historical moment, where we're seeing a lot of closing in and that can be really scary, but there has always kind of been this pulsing and there has always been the survival." 

A Global Musical Movement

In fact, "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" wasn’t even the first gay anthem. One of the earliest is the 1920 German cabaret number "Das lila Lied" ("The Lavender Song"), a clear product of the relative sexual freedom of the Weimar Republic. Written around the time of sexologist Magnus Hirschfeld hosting the First International Conference for Sexual Reform, the song recognized the struggles queer people faced while also declaring, "and still most of us are proud/ to be cut from different cloth!"

In Europe, musicals provided sly opportunities to explore queer themes, notably the work of English playwright Noël Coward, whose hidden sexuality was expressed in unrequited love songs such as "Mad About the Boy'' and "If Love Were All." In the United States, Black women defined many of these early queer anthems, notably Ma Rainey and Billie Holiday, with "Prove It on Me Blues" and "Easy Living," respectively. As Geffen says, their music was "playful and raunchy and it sold." 

Holiday and Rainey, along with her prodigy, Bessie Smith, were all bisexual — an identity that along with their race and gender threatened their professional careers. They faced not only social ostracization, but also legal threats due to their sexuality. Yet these pioneers still expressed their emotions openly, as Ma Rainey sings on "Prove It on Me Blues": "I went out last night with a crowd of my friends'/It must've been women, 'cause I don't like no men/ Wear my clothes just like a fan/ Talk to the gals just like any old man."

The war years and social conservative of the 1950s didn’t see many lasting gay anthems, as white, male musicians appropriated and made famous the rebellious rock and roll sound of Black musicians. This was clear in songs like Little Richard’s "Tutti Frutti" (with clear sexual undertones) and "Hound Dog" by Big Mamma Thornton, who wore men’s clothes and has been appreciated for representing Black queerness

Through the sexual revolution of the mid-20th century, Black women continued to produce some of the most boundary-pushing music. Nina Simone switched the gender preference in her bubbly version of "My Baby Just Cares for Me" — from Lana Turner to… Liberace — and Diana Ross delivered a sultry take on "Ain’t No Mountain High Enough," showing the depths someone is willing to go for their paramour. 

Yet it’s impossible to include just one song by the disco diva in a compendium of queer anthems, overt or implied. The inspiration for 1980’s "I’m Coming Out" actually came out of a New York gay bar: Famed songwriter Nile Rodgers went to the bathroom and noticed a group of Ross impersonators. As Rodgers told Billboard in 2011, "I ran outside and called Bernard [Edwards, his frequent collaborator] and told him about it and said, ‘What if we recognize Diana Ross’ really cool alignment with her fan base in the gay community?’ So we sat down and wrote, ‘I’m Coming Out.’"

During this period of second-wave feminism, songs of female empowerment were also adapted by the queer community, such as Lesley Gore’s "You Don’t Own Me" (Gore herself came out as a lesbian in 2005). Some male acts embraced all that defied social norms, whether around identity or sexuality (although some of their depictions of race and gender can be questioned): "Lola" by the Kinks, "Walk on the Wild Side" by Lou Reed and "Rebel Rebel" by David Bowie, whose glam rock pushed against boundaries in terms of gender presentation.

More so than any genre before it, the arrival of disco in the 1970s provided a soundtrack for the LGBTQ+ community. In fact, it could be said it was the first genre made for and by queer folks was disco, with high-rotation tracks like Donna Summer’s "I Feel Love," Chaka Khan’s "I’m Every Woman" or even ABBA’s "Dancing Queen." But arguably the most powerful queer anthem was Gloria Gaynor’s "I Will Survive," an unabashed tribute to overcoming against all odds that can still be heard blasting from Pride floats today. 

In maybe a less nuanced but equally impactful sense during this time, the Village People also played with gay sexual fantasies in both their appearance and music, notably with their songs "Macho Man" and "Y.M.C.A." While the camp was turned up to 11, the Village People’s influence in bringing queer life to the mainstream cannot be underestimated.

Openly queer artists also began asserting themselves more than ever by the 1980s and the rise of synth pop, finding fans among straight and queer communities, often in a "you know if you know way," according to Geffen. The sound coming from British groups like Culture Club ("Do You Really Want to Hurt Me"), Soft Cell ("Tainted Love") or Bronski Beat ("Smalltown Boy") was inextricable from queerness; an uptempo beat and thematic undercurrent ran through many of the era's biggest pop songs. These artists were "talking about an experience that was very specific to the queer community — this idea of figuring out who you are and leaving home and not knowing where you're gonna be ending up and just trusting something out there might be better than what you've got," Geffen notes.

Also during the 1980s, queer anthems also began to proliferate beyond English-language music, proving that a desire to express queerness through music was universal. This was notably seen in Canadian-French artist Mylène Farmer’s "Libertine" and "Sans contrefaçon" about embracing androgyny. And in the Spanish-speaking world, there was Alaska y Dinarama's "¿A quién le importa?" which translates to "who cares?" 

Anthems Rocked By Trauma

But this relative opening in terms of gay acceptance in popular culture was quickly shaken by the HIV/AIDS crisis, when queer anthems took on an even stronger political role. Whether it be Queen’s "I Want to Break Free" or "Somebody to Love," Frankie Goes to Hollywood’s "Relax" or Sylvester’s "You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real)," these anthems were unabashed about expressing romantic feelings and sexual desire, as well as fighting back against violence, silence and stereotyping. 

Known for his falsetto voice, Sylvester was one of the leading voices in San Francisco’s growing queer community before passing away from AIDS-related complications in 1988. His song "Stars" is one of Geffen’s favorite queer anthems, particularly for how he conveyed both the joy and hardship of the queer experience. 

"He had such a powerful voice and powerful control over the subtleties of using it," Geffen continues. "There was this kind of melancholy that I can hear coming through sometimes of celebrating the world that you're in, this kind of sub-world inside the world where these forms of relationships are possible."

Read more: 'Spiceworld' At 25: How The Spice Girls' Feminine Enthusiasm & Camp Became A Beacon For Queer Youth

Female artists — many of whom were open allies of the queer community — also addressed the devastation of the epidemic. TLC’s "Waterfalls" (a cautionary tale with a hopeful note to "believe in yourself") and Cyndi Lauper’s "True Colors," a torch song to light the way in the darkest of times. Although, this relationship of seemingly straight artists to the queer community was not without faults. Madonna became a queer icon for her string of hits before kicking off the 1990s with "Vogue," a track that brought queer ballroom culture to a mainstream audience. While Madonna was clearly celebrating this art form, and giving a certain amount of recognition to those who created it, she was also making money off the talent and creativity of underrecognized queer communities of color.

Outside of mainstream music, the 1990s saw queer female artists asserting their identity, accompanied by the riot grrrl movement and Lilith Fair. These ranged from the Indigo Girls’ reflective "Closer to Fine" to k.d. lang’s yearnful "Constant Craving" to Bikini Kill’s "Rebel Girl," "the queen of my world." 

The Sound Of A New Millennium

The turn of the millennium heralded the beginning of a more assertive acceptance, with anthems coming from sometimes unexpected sources: Christina Aguilera’s "Beautiful," P!nk’s "Raise Your Glass,'' Robyn’s "Dancing on My Own" or Macklemore's "Same Love." With the political fight for marriage equality quickly gaining ground in the U.S., pop artists began responding with overtly pro-LGBTQAI+ messages in their music: Lady Gaga kicked off the 2010s with "Born This Way," with the theme that there is nothing abnormal about being queer.

 More recently, anthems have shed any need to hide their queerness through hidden messages or innuendos. Proudly queer artists are creating music clearly for their communities, and beyond: think Janelle Monae’s ode to female pleasure "Pynk," Perfume Genius’ searing "Queen" or Hayley Kiyoko’s "Girls Like Girls," whose title says it all (and was followed up with the more cheerful anthem "for the girls"). 

Perhaps most notably, genres that have been slower to embrace LGBTQAI+ artists have also had their share of anthems. Rap in particular has embraced queer artists from Cupcakke ("LGBT") to Frank Ocean ("Channel") to Leikeli47’s ​​("Attitude") to anything by Mykki Blanco. This also has been true in country: See Katie Pruitt’s "Loving Her," Kacey Musgraves’ "Follow Your Arrow'' or Orville Peck and his interpretation of "Smalltown Boy." This honoring of queer history and pioneers defines many modern queer anthems, perhaps most strongly in Beyoncé’s Renaissance.

Read more: How Christina Aguilera's "Beautiful" Made An Important Statement About Acceptance — For Society And Herself

While her whole discography is full of bangers that have entered the queer pantheon, her latest release Renaissance is an ode to the queer and Black tradition of disco and house. Tracks like "COZY," an embrace of being "comfortable in my skin," quickly entered into heavy rotation at clubs around the world. Beyoncé has centered queer artists like Big Freedia, the queen of New Orleans bounce who wrote a powerful anthem in 2020’s "Chasing Rainbows" featuring Kesha (who herself named an album Rainbow and released "We R Who We R" after a series of suicides of gay teens across the U.S.).

Most significantly, songs about the queer experience are now defining the careers of many artists and garnering them unprecedented large audiences. This is the case for MUNA with "Silk Chiffon," King Princess with "1950" Troy Sivan with "Bloom'' or even Sam Smith and Kim Petras with "Unholy." This last sexy jam bought Petras unprecedented acclaim after years in the music industry and made her the first openly trans person to win a GRAMMY Award.

This trend might be most clearly seen in the rise of Little Nas X, who grew up mastering the language and codes of the internet before breaking through and quite quickly coming out. Geffen highlights how he uses shock to garner attention and push back against the homophobic haters, like giving Satan a lap dance in the music video "MONTERO (Call Me By Your Name)."

"I think of Little Nas X as a troll who trolled his way to the top," says Geffen," knowing what people will respond to positively and what will piss people off."

Contrasting this increase in openly queer anthems and depictions of queer people in media is a sharp political reality: anti-trans laws proliferate in many states and lawmakers attempt to limit the rights of LGBTQ+ people, threatening many of the forward momentum in queer liberation. 

Read more: The Rise Of The Queer Pop Star In The 2010s

This moment in social and political history highlights the importance of an anthem, which  serves as a form of celebration and signaling of allegiance, as well as a salve against repression and motivation to continue the fight.

Of course, this list of queer anthems is far from exhaustive. Artists as diverse as the B-52s, Eurythmics, the Pet Shop Boys, Elton John, Cher, George Michael, RuPaul, Mariah Carey, Janet Jackson, the Smiths, Kylie Minogue, Brandi Carlile, Carley Rae Jepsen, Sufjan Stevens, SOPHIE, Taylor Swift and many, many others have released music that has deeply impacted the queer community. 

And really, any song can be a queer anthem if it speaks to someone on a personal level, providing a sense of connection and belonging. As Geffen notes, the magic occurs when a piece of music creates a moment of collective celebration or momentary bliss.

"There's nothing else quite like that feeling of the physical release of having a song run through you when it's also running through tons of other people who are in the crowd with you," they said, highlighting the power of that anxiety of whether you fit in dissolving away: "It opens a window into what's possible, in a world beyond the one we're in right now."

Queer Christian Artists Keep The Faith: How LGBTQ+ Musicians Are Redefining Praise Music

Remembering The Artistry Of Tina Turner, "The Epitome Of Power And Passion"
Tina Turner in 1990

Photo: Rob Verhorst/Redferns

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Remembering The Artistry Of Tina Turner, "The Epitome Of Power And Passion"

Throughout her eight GRAMMY wins and 25 nominations, Tina Turner’s vast and generation-spanning musical output proved equally entertaining and inspirational. The Bold Soul Sister died on May 24 at her home near Zurich, Switzerland. She was 83.

GRAMMYs/May 25, 2023 - 04:15 pm

The Queen of Rock 'n' Roll, recording legend, icon of empowerment. No matter how one refers to Tina Turner, her passing constitutes a seismic loss that marks the end of a shining cultural legacy which leaves in its wake an industry-shaping career. Throughout her eight GRAMMY wins and 25 nominations, Turner’s vast and generation-spanning musical output proved equally entertaining and inspirational.

The icon died on May 24 at her home near Zurich, Switzerland. She was 83.

"Tina Turner broke barriers for women on and off the stage throughout her incredible career," said Harvey Mason jr, CEO of The Recording Academy, of Turner who received GRAMMY’s Lifetime Achievement Award in 2018 and is a three-time inductee to the GRAMMY Hall of Fame. "She amazed audiences worldwide with her electrifying performances, including on our GRAMMY stage in 1985 and 2008, and was an undeniable rockstar who paved the way for so many with her signature style and powerful vocals. She will be greatly missed by all the people she touched around the globe."

It’s a sentiment shared by the music industry, and world, at large. "She was truly an enormously talented performer and singer,"Mick Jaggerwrote on social media. "She was inspiring, warm, funny and generous. She helped me so much when I was young and I will never forget her." On her website, Beyoncé — who performed with Turner at the 50th GRAMMY Awards — paid tribute to her "beloved Queen," writing, "I love you endlessly. I’m so grateful for your inspiration and all the ways you paved the way. You are strength and resilience. You are the epitome of power and passion."Elton John put it simply: "We have lost one of the world's most exciting and electric performers," he wrote. "She was untouchable."

Turner’s untouchable talent famously embodied two phases. First, her tumultuous collaboration with husband Ike Turner, during which they performed as a duo and yielded hits including the oft-covered "Proud Mary." The instantly-recognizable song earned the couple a GRAMMY Award for Best R&B Vocal Performance By A Group in 1972 and was inducted in the GRAMMY Hall of Fame in 2003. In her triumphant second act, Turner broke away from the partnership. She reinvented herself as a solo performer, improbably transitioning from a '60s and '70s-era rocker to arena pop star in the 1980s. 

For her efforts, the singer swept the major categories at the 1985 GRAMMY Awards, winning Record of the Year, Song of the Year and Best Female Pop Vocal Performance for "What’s Love Got To Do With It." She also took home the golden gramophone for Best Female Rock Vocal Performance for "Better Be Good To Me."

One of her most indelible hits, Turner utilized "What's Love Got To Do With It" as a call to action, becoming brutally honest about her abusive relationship with her ex-husband along the way. Turner later recalled toRolling Stone that when she left Ike in July 1976, "I had nothing. I didn’t even know how to get money. I had a girl working for me who had worked for Ike, because she knew about ways of getting money. I didn’t know how to do any of that stuff." She later devised what’s considered one of the greatest comebacks in music history.

First offered to Donna Summer — who sat on the track before ultimately passing — songwriter Terry Britten later revealed that she thought "What’s Love Got to Do With It" was "awful." Turner didn't like the song either, but recorded it following encouragement from her manager, Roger Davis.

"I said, 'If it doesn't work out, we won't use it. So let's give it a go,'" Britten recalled in her 2021 documentary, Tina.  It wasn’t until Turner laid down her vocal track that the song was elevated from pop confection into a showcase for the vocal powerhouse. "They weren't used to a strong voice standing on top of music," Turner said in the documentary. "But I converted it and made it my own."

Turner’s deft musical translation is evident throughout her eclectic discography, from the blues-inflicted rock she performed as Ike & Tina Turner, to pop anthems like 1989’s "The Best" (which became a trademark and, naturally, the title of a popular greatest hits album).  In 1962, she was nominated for her first GRAMMY Award for Best Rock and Roll Recording for "It’s Gonna Work Out Fine,"  her and Ike’s hit from the previous year which was offered to them after songwriter Rose Marie McCoy saw their energetic stage show at the Apollo. 

It was an auspicious early hit for Turner, who would become a staple of the category for Best Rock Vocal Performance, Female. Decades later, she earned back-to-back wins in the category for "One of the Living" and "Back Where We Started" in 1986 and 1987, a nomination for "Better Be Good To Me" in ‘88, and took home the golden gramophone in ‘89 for Tina Live in Europe, among many others. 

"My songs are a little bit of everybody’s lives who are watching me," said Turner to Rolling Stonein the midst of her hot streak in 1986. "You gotta sing what they can relate to. And there are some raunchy people out there. The world is not perfect. And all of that is in my performance; I play with it."

Born Anna Mae Bullock, Turner’s journey to musical dynamo began on the farmlands of Tennessee where she discovered early on her passion for artistic expression. "As a girl, every chance I got, I’d go to our local movie theater and memorize scenes so I could reenact them," she recalled in 2021 the Harvard Business Review. "Although I did have a bit of singing training in high school and even learned some opera, my voice and dance abilities have mostly come naturally to me." 

That vocal prowess and inimitable energy as a performer was on full display throughout her life behind the microphone, one of the most memorable examples being "River Deep-Mountain High." Inducted into the GRAMMY Hall of Fame in 1999, her duet with Ike was produced by Phil Spector who Turner said had him cut her vocals ad nauseam to spectacular results. "I must have sung that 500,000 times," she told Rolling Stone after the publication ranked the track No. 33 of their list of the 500 Greatest Songs of All Time. "I was drenched with sweat. I had to take my shirt off and stand there in my bra to sing." 

Upon her death, the New York Times called her "a magnetic singer with explosive power." That power was visible on and off the stage, both in her artistry and ability to soldier on in the face of the numerous obstacles.  In a 2005 interview with Oprah Winfrey, Turner explained, "There's an expression, 'You'll never get out of this world alive.' It's true. We won't. Go forward. Do your best with your makeup, hair, and clothes." 

In that same interview, Turner also mused about her legacy, touching on the inspiration she doled out by being her authentic self. "My wish is to give the kind of truth to people that will help them change their minds. When that happens, I'll be the best that I can be."

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