All language subtitles for Summer.of.Soul.Or.When.the.Revolution.Could.Not.Be.Televised.2021.1080p.WEB.H264-NAISU

All right, let me know
when you're rolling.

Give me a second,
I wanna get make up to...

Okay.

Is that the lowest you can go?

Turn it off.

- Level?
- Turn it down.

The sync went out a little bit.

All right.
All right, let me try that again.

I hope this will be worth it.

- It's about Harlem.
- Okay.

When'd you get to Harlem?

- Let me do, like, a room tone.
- Yeah.

- All right.
- Yeah, cool.

Tell 'em the story
like we rehearsed.

Yep.

You guys ready?

- Sound speed?
- Sound speeding.

Camera speed.

Well, first of all,

thank you for doing this interview for us.

We're gonna bring in the monitor
to show you some footage.

So, do you remember
the Harlem Cultural Festival?

That summer of 1969?

There is a lost wallet.

Anne Reynolds. Anne Reynolds.

Your wallet is over here.

Nobody ever heard of

the Harlem Cultural Festival.

Nobody would believe it happened.

The organist is on number 15,
he'll play a little bit for you now.

All I remember

is going to this
amazing concert in the park.

You gotta move back,
ladies and gentlemen.

You gotta move back.

And there was just
a sea of Black people.

Thank you.
Thank you, thank you.

Hold it. Hold it.

That is the organ mic, sir.

As soon as you move down, we can start.

Welcome to
the Harlem Cultural Festival

here in Mount Morris Park

in the heart of Harlem.

And now, ladies and gentlemen,
the young brother of soul...

Stevie Wonder!

Hey, y'all, it's raining.

Here we go.

Here we go again.

We gotta get a groove goin'

Gotta get a groove goin'
Baby, love.

All you got to do, baby, yeah.

Is do what Stevie tell you to do.

Oh, yeah.

Everybody, clap your hands.

Let me hear
Clap your hands.

'Cause.

It's your thing, do what you wanna do.

Don't let me tell you good things love do.

Just as long, just as long.

Just as long as you give it to me.

The Harlem Cultural Festival

was a total party atmosphere.

Well, it was in Mount Morris Park,

where the Panthers were the security

and the kids were sittin' up on the trees.

1969 was a change of era

in the Black community.

The wholesale reevaluation
of our history and our culture.

The styles were changing.

Music was changing.

And revolution
was coming together.

We want Black power!

We need it now.

The revolution is not gonna stop.

In 1969.

We want a new life.

A Black consciousness revolution.

It was the right time,
the right place.

We were there.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

We wanted freedom now.

What time is it?

We were creating a new world.

We were looking forward
to that festival for some time.

I was 19 in 1969. Going to college.

That's the summer we became free.

Of our parents.

I lived in Harlem.
On Madison and 135th.

That festival was so close to home.

It was only 10 blocks away.

My three best friends and I,
we could actually walk.

We got there early.
Boy, it was hot that day.

And the sun was in my face.
And it was exciting.

We hadn't had
anything like that in Harlem,

that I can recall.

Welcome to the heart
of Harlem, Soulsville USA.

This is Tony Lawrence

and 50,000 beautiful people
here in Mount Morris Park.

And we are asking you to join us
in the Soul Music Festival.

Now from Mississippi,

ladies and gentlemen,
The Chambers Brothers.

Hey! Do it to it.

Sock it, sock it to me, hey.

You like it like that, yeah.

That's where it's at, yeah
Hey.

Do it to it
I'm going uptown to Harlem.

To let my hair down in Harlem.

If a taxi won't take me
I'll catch a train

I'll go underground
I'll get there just the same.

Because I'm goin'

Uptown to Harlem.

Gonna let my hair.

Down in Harlem

125th Street
Now here I come.

Get ready for me
'cause I'm coming for fun

I'm gonna eat me some-a-chicken.

Some black-eyed peas.

Barbequed ribs and some collard greens

I'm gonna party for.

Days in Harlem.

Leave the downtown.

Ways for Harlem.

'Cause I'm going uptown to Harlem.

Harlem was heaven to us.

It was a place where I was safe, happy,

and made lifelong friends.

I'll go underground

I'll get there just the same

I'm gonna make it to the Cave.

Of course,
you had those destitute areas

you might consider a ghetto.

Harlem,
where the tight-packed tenements

spew forth the overcrowded thousands

onto the overheated streets.

But to us Harlemers, Camelot.

It is a creative forest

where you are honed
by the hardships of experience.

And many a creative gem comes forth.

Down to Harlem.

We loved the culture.

The people, the parties,
the food, the nightclubs.

It was just so rich.

I'll go underground

I'll get there just the same

Harlem was the place to be,
that's where it all happened.

I just graduated from high school.

We wanted to see concerts,
dance, just have fun.

The normal thing that
a high school girl would do.

When I heard about this concert,

it was like, "Okay, let's go."

- We got to, got to, got to.
- Down to Harlem.

Yeah, you got to.

- Go up to Harlem.
- I'm going uptown.

I was 19 in 1969.

The festival had the biggest crowds

I can remember seeing at the time.

I was home from college,
it was a hot summer.

I always related summertime
to the potential of violence.

And there was quite a bit
of anxiety that year.

1969.

Black America has lost faith
in this country.

Many of us have seen
too many of our leaders

jailed and killed.

We have JFK in '63.

A bulletin from CBS News.

President Kennedy is dead.

His assassination was the result
of the climate of hate.

We've got Malcolm in '65.

The assassination of Malcolm X
was an unfortunate tragedy.

'68 in April,

you've got Martin Luther King.

Martin Luther King was shot
and was killed tonight.

June '68,
you've got Robert Kennedy.

Is there a doctor...

After that, it felt like
the system was letting you down.

President Nixon is now
occupying the White House.

We are not gonna have
a lot of guilt-stricken

white liberals hanging around to turn on.

We're gonna be dealing now

with white America at its worst.

There was protests
and a lot of unrest.

Then there was the Vietnam War.

There is a disproportionate representation

of Black men on the frontlines of Vietnam.

We were hearing about these deaths.

So many people our very age.

A family member, a father,
an uncle, a cousin.

There is no need to go to Vietnam

and shoot somebody
who a honky says is your enemy.

We gonna shoot the cops
who are shootin' our Black brothers

in the back in this country.

That's where we're goin' to fight.

By '69,
the Black community was divided

between those that were
advocating non-violence...

I'd rather quit talking about revolution
and talk about what is possible.

I was with the non-violent crowd
'cause I was a boy preacher

even though I was 14.

But most of my friends was with those

that were saying
self-defense and/or worse.

And if that means tearin' up the community
to gain our freedom, we will.

'68.

A day after the death of
Doctor Martin Luther King,

in more than 100 cities,
violence broke out.

Several thousand looters

sacked Harlem streets
for nearly seven hours,

the worst outbreak of looting
in that area's history.

I knew New York was trying not to have
a repeat of that in '69.

People were afraid

of the anger and rage boiling over.

It's too late now, we are ready to start,

and we're gonna finish it up.

Yeah, yeah
Come on and get me.

Uptown to Harlem.

Gonna let my hair down.

So, the goal of the festival

may very well have been
to keep Black folks

from burnin' up the city in '69.

Yeah.

It was a crazy,
crazy, crazy period.

We needed something to really
reach out and touch us.

We needed that music.

Brothers and sisters,

now we bring you the world's
greatest blues singer.

Ladies and gentlemen, B. B. King.

Yes, everybody wanna know.

Why I sing the blues

I say, everybody wanna know.

Why I sing the blues.

You know,
I've been around a long time.

People, I've really paid my dues

I first got the blues
They brought me over on a ship.

There was men standing over me.

And a lot more with a whip.

And everybody wanna know.

Everybody wanna know why
I'm singin' the blues

I've been around a long time.

People, I've really paid my dues

I've laid in the ghetto flats
Cold and numb

I heard the rats tell the bedbugs.

To give the roaches some.

Everybody wanna know.

Everybody wanna know
Why I'm singin' the blues.

Been around a long time.

People, I've really paid my dues.

Big hand for B. B. King!

If you will,
brothers and sisters,

let's give him his due.

The producer and director

of the Harlem Cultural Festival of 1969,

Tony Lawrence.

Tony Lawrence, let's give it to him.

I'll tell you what we're gonna do,

we're gonna get it right
and do a little thing.

I want all of you to do it with me,
all right?

Gotta get comfortable here.

All right. Gonna throw this away.

Hey, now, come on.

Take the music down a little bit, baby.

Take it down just a little bit,
'cause I know you feel good.

I was introduced
to Tony Lawrence,

when the Parks Department was tasked

with supporting this guy,
Tony Lawrence's initiative

to hold something called
the Harlem Cultural Festival.

And I was Tony's assistant.

He was an ebullient guy,
he had this phenomenal smile.

I remember Tony

being physically always on the move.

Being very positive,

never getting angry about things

but never sitting still.

He was a lounge singer,
and he was a promoter.

Can you hear me in the back?

How we doin' over there? All right?

And now, ladies and gentlemen...

Ladies and gentlemen...
Ladies and gentlemen...

From right here in Harlem...

Soul time!

Tony was a hustler
in the best sense.

He would make a promise
about delivering something

and then leverage that

to be able to get other people
to wanna participate.

It's all premised on half commitments

that are dependent on another,
and it all...

ultimately, if you're persistent,
you pull it all together.

He knew how to schmooze
with politicians

and he knew how to talk to
entertainers and musicians.

Tony talked a big game,
and he delivered.

The '69 festival was huge.

The challenges of staging
something like that are enormous.

To build a good stage,

to have a decent sound system,

that can cover 30 or 40,000
people in the park,

you've got six consecutive
weekends of major artists.

But in that era,

artists and particularly artist managers

and booking agents,

none of them
were the least bit interested

in these kinds of events.

They were risky because they were afraid
they wouldn't get paid

because who's Tony Lawrence?

I would think the biggest challenge
was convincing them

that this is A, legit,

B, it's secure, you'll get paid.

Yes, the city is really doing it.

Yes, there'll be security. You'll be safe.

It was our understanding

that the police was not gonna do security

for the Harlem Cultural Festival.

So, the Black Panthers were there on point
to be doing security.

My job was to make sure
that the backstage was covered.

We had some members
dressed in regular clothing

and some members in uniform.

Eventually, the police, they were there,

but we wasn't gonna take any chances.

Really,
the biggest challenge was just

having enough cash to do it right.

But not only did Tony
get the city behind it,

Maxwell House put up
a bunch of money.

The Harlem Cultural Festival

is being brought to you
by Maxwell Household coffee.

Man found it first
in the humid highlands of Kenya

and in the misty plateaus of Abyssinia,

a little brown bean.

And at the heart of
Instant Maxwell House,

is the little brown bean

from the rich, moist soil
on the misty slopes of Africa.

General Foods called me up

to do a television special.

We knew we cannot let this enormous

array of talent not be taped.

We must record them.

There was no budget, no money, no lights.

So, the stage had to face west
because I had to use the sun.

This was
a high-visibility undertaking

and would be an embarrassment
if it didn't work.

Yeah, so Tony had to have had
somebody who vouched for him.

At this time, we would like to
introduce a young man

who is leading one of the greatest fights
in the world for our people.

Ladies and gentlemen,
our blue-eyed soul brother,

the mayor of New York City,
Mayor John V. Lindsay.

Let's hear it!

That somebody was John Lindsay.

John Lindsay
was the Republican mayor in New York,

but a liberal Republican.

Tall, lanky, charismatic.

He was popular among Blacks.

He seemed to not be
in any way uncomfortable

around Black people.

Lindsay would go to
the Black community frequently

and advocate anti-poverty programs.

He made it possible
for us 16-year-olds to get our first jobs.

He just was so chill.

Lindsay was a hellified mayor.

When we had the riots
when they killed King,

he was there in it
right out in the street.

The community of Harlem wants to be safe.

They want to be able
to walk tall down the street.

In '69,
Lindsay ran for re-election.

You're a bum, Lindsay!
I'll say it to your face.

He energized the Blacks
and the Puerto Ricans

and some of the Jews.

I simply wanted to express my appreciation

to the Harlem community

for this glorious festival.

This great concert could not
possibly be and would not be

without the inspiration and the support

and the energy of this great community

of our city of New York.

We're not gonna let him get off.

You know, the mayor was gonna sing.

He's Got the Whole World in His Hands
with me...

...and he's comin' back next weekend

and I think him and I are gonna do
Knock On Wood together.

How's that, huh?

All right, we're gonna truly
make him a soul brother, okay?

I was a little kid.

I remember being with my family

walking around the park.

And as far as I could see,
it was just Black people.

This was the first time
I'd ever seen so many of us.

It was incredible.

Families, fathers, mothers,
kids running around.

I was one of those kids.

Beautiful, beautiful women,
beautiful men.

It was like seeing royalty.

Around the park,
people were selling food.

Mom was cookin'.

She had her grill,
chicken, mac 'n' cheese,

maybe some greens, lemonade,
Kool-Aid, sellin' beer,

sellin' headbands,
sweatbands and balloons.

I remember that distinctly.

It smelled like Afro Sheen and chicken.

Growing up in Harlem,
if you went to places like that,

even went to the movies,

Mom fried some chicken,
she'd put it in foil

and you took it with you.

We brought everything to the park.

You know, the blankets,
the Vaseline for the knees.

It was the ultimate Black barbecue.

And then you start to hear music

and someone speaking...

And now,
for the first time in Harlem,

Soulsville, USA...

...and you knew
it was something bigger.

...ladies and gentlemen,

the 5th Dimension!

Don't cha hear me callin' to ya.

Don't cha hear me callin' to ya, baby.

Don't cha hear me callin' to ya.

Don't cha hear me callin' to ya, baby.

I miss you, baby.

Don't cha hear me callin' to ya.

And I want you back.

Don't cha hear me callin' to ya

I guess I'm crazy.

Don't cha hear me callin' to ya.

But I want you back.

Don't cha hear me callin' to ya

I told you, leave me.

I remember watching
the 5th Dimension.

Don't cha hear me callin' to ya

I'm cryin', baby.

Their outfits were orange,

but it was an orange, like,

you know, remember the Creamsicles?

I need ya, baby.

Don't cha hear me callin' to ya

I'm going mad

I thought they were a little extreme.

You know I love you.

Don't cha hear me callin' to ya.

You know I care.

Don't cha hear me callin' to ya.

Can't you see I'm lonely.

I remember
looking at Marilyn McCoo.

Don't cha hear me callin' to ya.

She was so beautiful

that I was just, like, transfixed.

I thought she was
the most beautiful woman

I'd ever seen in my life.

God, she's my first crush.
I mean, I guess.

Hey! Oh!

We were so excited
about performing in Harlem.

Callin' ya baby.

It was the first time.

Come on home.

When we first hit,

we came out of the box
right into the pop charts.

We were a group that just
came together as friends

from St. Louis, Missouri.

We wanted to sing R and B, pop.

We wanted to have a jazz influence in it.

But everybody thought
we were a white act.

Thank you.

Until they saw
a picture of the group

and then they saw these
Black folks in this balloon,

they said, "Wait a minute..."

"That's not what we expected,"
you know,

but yet and still,
here we come, you know?

Back then, music was segregated.

Pop groups weren't playing Black music

and Black groups
weren't playin' pop music.

And so,
we were caught in the middle.

When the moon
is in the Seventh House.

And Jupiter aligns with Mars.

Then peace will guide the planets.

And love will steer the stars.

This is the dawning of the age of Aquarius.

Age of Aquarius.

Aquarius.

Aquarius

Harmony and understanding.

Sympathy and trust abounding.

No more falsehoods or derisions.

Golden living dreams of visions.

Mystic crystal revelation.

And the mind's true liberation.

Aquarius.

Aquarius.

When the moon is in the Seventh House.

When the moon.

Boy, to hear that song,

it brings back a lot of memories.

When we first heard that song,
in the production of Hair,

we were workin'
at the Americana in New York.

Hair was the biggest thing going.

People were standing around the corners,

they were waitin' in lines,
tryin' to get in

because it's the first time
they ever seen anybody

get naked on stage.

And we'd been tryin'
to see that show for months.

Then one day, I lost my wallet in a cab.

A gentleman gets in behind
and finds my wallet,

calls me at the hotel.

I went over to get it,
I offered him some money.

He didn't want no money.

So I said, "Okay, I'll invite you over

"to the Americana to see our show."

After the show,
we went backstage and he said,

"Since you were so nice,

"I'd like to invite you to see our show."

I said, "What, then?
What show have you got?"

You know, he said he was
one of the producers of Hair.

Can you believe that?

And we got in that day
and we heard Aquarius.

Blew us out of our chairs.

During the intermission,
we got together and said,

"We have to record that song.
It's a hit, it's a hit."

So we called Bones Howe, our producer,

and he said, "I've got an idea.
We'll take Aquarius

"and we'll put it together
with Let The Sunshine In."

Aquarius.

That was
the biggest record of 1969.

Let the sunshine.

Let the sunshine in.

The sunshine in.

Let the sunshine.

- Let it shine, come on.
- Let the sunshine in.

The sunshine in.

- Sing along.
- Let the sunshine.

- Let it shine.
- Let the sunshine in.

- Open up your heart.
- The sunshine in.

When you feel like you've been mistreated.

Let the sunshine.

Billy laid all those
wonderful gospel licks

in his ad libs.

Our producer said,
"Okay, Billy, take it to church."

- Yeah.
- And Billy knew exactly what to do

because Billy sang gospel
in his teen years.

You know, the 5th Dimension,
we travel all over the world

and our main purpose for travelin'

is just to bring and spread a little love.

Ain't nothing wrong with that, is there?
Talk to me!

We were constantly being attacked

because we weren't
quote-unquote "Black enough."

Sometimes we were called
"the Black group with the white sound."

We didn't like that.

We happened to be artists who are Black

and our voices sound the way they sound.
And how do you color...

That used to be one of our questions.

How do you color a sound?

That was one of the reasons
why performing in Harlem

- was so important to us...
- Mmm-hmm.

...because we wanted our people

- to know what we were about.
- Mmm-hmm.

And we were hoping
that they would receive us.

Come on and let.

Let it shine.

Hey! Come on and let.

- We were so happy to be there.
- Yeah.

I didn't want to leave.
I didn't want to leave her.

Let's just be clear.

After the show,
these kids came backstage,

and it was so unexpected.

It was my cousins.

It was Ruth, Sheryl, and Maurice.

And I'm saying to them,
"What are you guys doin' here?"

And they said, "Well, we're singin'
with the Edwin Hawkins Singers."

Which was on the festival

- that year.
- That day.

And Edwin Hawkins was hot,
you know.

- Oh Happy Day.
- Oh Happy Day.

Everybody was singin' that.

Oh happy day.

- Oh happy day.
- Oh happy day.

- When Jesus washed.
- When Jesus washed.

- When he washed.
- When Jesus washed.

- When Jesus washed.
- When Jesus washed.

- He washed all my sins away.
- Oh happy day.

- Oh that's a happy day.
- Oh happy day.

He taught me how.

He taught me how, yeah.

- To watch, fight, and pray.
- Oh, oh, yeah

I know, good God, oh, yes.

Fight and pray.

- Oh happy day, ooh, yeah.
- Oh happy day.

- Oh happy day.
- Oh happy day.

- Oh a happy day.
- Oh happy day.

- Can I get to heaven, my Lord?
- Oh happy day.

I'm gonna spread the news, yeah.

Oh happy day.

People tell me that the streets.

It's amazing.

Streets are paved with gold, yeah.

Oh happy day.

Looking at all the people
on the stage.

My first reaction was, "My God."

They tell me
you got that in heaven, my Lord.

Oh happy day.

They tell me you got that
in heaven, my Lord.

The Edwin Hawkins Singers
were from all over the Bay Area.

San Francisco, Oakland, Berkeley area.

Edwin was minister of music at our church,

the Ephesian Church of God in Christ.

Walter Hawkins is Edwin's baby brother.

Both of those guys,

very consecrated young men.
They loved the Lord.

Edwin would put our choir on a fast.

We would fast and pray.

I'm gonna spread
the news, yeah.

Oh happy day

I'm gonna walk around.

- My Lord.
- Oh happy day.

When Oh Happy Day
was recorded,

San Francisco DJs heard the song

and put it on rotation
until it made it number one.

The Ed Hawkins Singers from KDIA

held on to the number-one spot
for four consecutive weeks.

Ed, what effect has all this

sudden fame and fortune had
on the choir and yourself?

It's a lot of excitement going on

and I'm very happy about it.

We started ministering in clubs

and ministering with secular artists
on stages like Harlem.

- Happy day.
- Oh happy day.

- When Jesus washed.
- When Jesus washed

- I'm so glad that he washed.
- When Jesus washed

- I said the Lord washed.
- When Jesus washed.

He washed all my sins away.

But when Oh Happy Day broke,

the church was upset about it.

We were part of the Pentecostal movement.

You didn't drink. You didn't dance.

You didn't go to clubs,
so we were persecuted.

It was very humiliating. Mmm-hmm.

But we felt like the world
needed Oh Happy Day.

With the situation
of the world today,

a lot of people don't believe
in God anymore.

They don't go to church.
Especially our youth.

It's really messed up, confused,

they don't know who to turn to,
which way to go,

so they're trying this and that

and they're not finding satisfaction.

And I feel with young people
such as our group,

instead of us trying to take
the gospel to them

by preaching to them,

take it to them in song, maybe,

with contemporary sounds,

new beats, new rhythms,
something they can understand,

something they can feel
and express themselves in.

We can show them that God yet lives.

Please, oh, Lord.

- Take me for your city.
- Oh happy day.

- And then you fill me.
- Oh happy day.

- Oh, yeah!
- Oh happy day.

- Oh, yes it was.
- Oh happy day.

Welcome to the gospel music day.

Gospel folks from all over
the country are here today

to spread the spirit.

So, come on in here.

Get close to me
so we can feel the spirit.

All right? All right? Okay.

All right, that's enough, that's enough.

All right, that's enough.

Let's calm it down now.

Look, let's take it down a little bit.

Direct from Chicago
to the heart of Harlem,

Papa Staple and the Staple Singers.

Sittin' around
on a mourner's bench

I heard an old lady and an amen.

Come again to pray.

And she began to moan.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Oh, yes, sir.

Then I went ahead and asked her.

She was Emma Sue

Emma Sue.

I've got to move.

Oh, get out here.

Oh, hear me sing, Lord
No, I can't help myself.

- But you, Lord above.
- Yeah.

- Help me, Lord Jesus.
- Yeah.

- Give me more faith.
- Yeah

- I need your power.
- Yeah.

Help me to run this race.

Help me, Jesus
Help me, Jesus.

Help me, Jesus
Help me, Lord.

When I looked out into the crowd,

I was overtaken with joy.

Help me, Jesus
Help me, Jesus.

I just saw so many Black people,

and they were rejoicing.

They were havin' a good time,

and I started celebratin' with them.

- When Jesus helped me.
- Well, well.

- When Jesus helped me.
- Give us time to get some.

- When Jesus helped me.
- We forgive all day.

- When Jesus helped me.
- Believe.

In 1969,
we were singin' gospel,

but we would be invited to folk festivals,

jazz festivals, blues...

I told Pops, I said,

"Daddy, why these people invitin' us

"to blues festivals,
but we don't sing no blues?"

He said, "Mavis, listen to our music.

"You will hear every kind
of music in our songs."

Whoa, we are going to Heaven.

Just say amen.

Just say amen
Just say amen.

Just say amen
Let me hear you sing it now.

In fact, it was years
before my sisters and I

knew Pops was playin'
the blues on his guitar

while we were singin' gospel.

We said,
"Daddy, you're playin' the blues."

He said,
"That's the way I learned."

Yeah, don't you need him now?

Yeah.

Pops was born in Mississippi.

He came out of school in the eighth grade,

started working at Dockery's farm.

He didn't know music,

but he taught himself to play guitar.

The first guitar I bought,
I paid five dollars for it.

- Five dollars.
- Five dollars.

Where did you get the five dollars?

Picking cotton plants.

Were you?
And how much

did you make about a day?

- I made three dollars a week.
- Three dollars a week?

50 cents a day,
14 hours a day.

It wasn't easy. It was tough.

- Over here.
- Amen.

- Help you, yeah.
- Amen.

- Clap your hands over here.
- Amen.

Let me hear you clap your hands.

Well, now do you feel all right now?

When we first started singin',

people thought we were old people

'cause we were singin' these old songs

that Pops and his family
used to sing in Mississippi.

- Do you feel all right?
- Amen.

Do you feel all right?

There's something
very specific

about what happened in Black America

where I think the only place
we could be fully expressive

was in music,
was in these church rituals.

Help me, Lord.

Gospel was channeling
the emotional core of Black people

who were insiders as Christian.

They experienced and redefined
it for themselves

and that goes all the way back

to the first moments, probably,

of Black conversion to Christianity.

Come on and throw down
Sing and shout.

- Nobody there to put me down.
- Holler.

Look up there.

- In the heat of the day.
- Holler.

Filled up my heart.

- Then began to say.
- Holler.

There's this notion
of spirit possession

that comes from Africa.

It's a part of seeking

a certain kind of release and catharsis.

This is an eruption of spirit

to arrive at an inner peace

through being completely
expressively open.

Wrapped, tied
Wrapped and tangled

I am wrapped and tangled.

Wrapped, tied and tangled
Wrapped, tied and tangled.

Wrapped, tied and tangled
Wrapped, tied and tangled.

Wrapped, tied and tangled
Wrapped, tied and tangled.

- Wrapped, tied and tangled.
- Are you wrapped.

- Wrapped, tied and tangled.
- Are you wrapped.

- Wrapped, tied and tangled.
- Are you wrapped.

- Wrapped, tied and tangled.
- Are you wrapped.

- Wrapped, tied and tangled.
- Are you wrapped.

- Wrapped, tied and tangled.
- Are you wrapped.

- Oh, yeah, wrapped over here.
- Wrapped, tied and tangled.

Gospel was more than religious.

Gospel was the therapy
for the stress and pressure

of being Black in America.

We didn't go to a psychiatrist,
we didn't go lay on a couch,

we didn't know anything about therapists,

but we knew Mahalia Jackson.

While I'm singin' I'm holy.

Lord, search my heart.

While I'm singin' I'm holy
Lord, search my heart.

While I'm singin' I'm holy
Lord, search my heart.

Gospel's part of our DNA.

It's deep in the recesses
of my consciousness.

My grandfather was a minister.

My father was a chaplain in World War II,

the Korean War.

That religious consciousness

kept him and so many others going.

During the civil rights movement,
the church provided sustenance for us,

helped us march on,

helped generations of people

confront some of the most
vicious, violent acts.

They took the great
Martin Luther King from us.

They took the great
John Kennedy from us.

They took the great Bobby Kennedy,

but most of all from Harlem

they took Malcolm X from us!

Now listen! Now wait a minute!

God knows a whole lot of generations
of Black folks here.

We're gonna make history right here
with the Black and the white

and the Spanish
and the Puerto Rican people

right here today.

We'd like to introduce
Reverend Jesse Jackson

and Ben Branch
and Operation Breadbasket band.

Brothers and sisters here in Harlem,

I want us to prepare
to bow our heads in prayer.

It does not really matter who your God is,

whether you call him Allah,

Zen Buddha, Jehovah,
Elohim or Yahweh...

Ben Branch
was a saxophone player from Memphis.

When Reverend Jackson started
the Operation Breadbasket rallies,

Ben put an orchestra together.

I was youth director
of Operation Breadbasket

and we put pressure on the private sector

to contract Black businesses,

give us shelf space,

put Blacks on corporate boards,

or we would boycott
and we would picket them.

And so today we will throw up
around here justice pickets.

Ben Branch
was always revered

by the kids like me

because Doctor King's
last words was to Ben.

We want sister Mahalia,

Mavis Staples

and all of our groups together

to prepare to do, as our prayer today...

Precious Lord.

Precious Lord, Take My Hand

was Doctor King's favorite song

and sister Mahalia Jackson was my idol.

She was my hero.
I loved her so much.

This day, I sit right next to her

and when came time for her to sing,

she leaned over and told me,
"Baby, Halie don't feel too good today.

"I need you to help me sing this song."

And I said, "Yes, ma'am, I'll help you."

Precious Lord is of course
so meaningful to us

who was in Memphis on that fateful day.

Memphis, Lorraine Motel.

April third, '68.

We stayed in the room all day long

playing, throwing pillows on the bed,

we were trying to relax.

We went to Mason Temple that night,

it was raining, lightning was flashing.

Doctor King
gave the Mountaintop speech.

And he's allowed me to go

up to the mountain.

And I've looked over

and I've seen the promised land.

He saw it!

Next day was April fourth,

we were prepared to perform
for Doctor King that night at the rally.

On that fateful day,

Ben Branch and I were walking together.

As we walked across the courtyard,

Doctor King came to the door
full of glee and joy.

And then he said,
"Jesse, it's time to eat."

He said, "Jesse, you don't
even have a tie for dinner."

And he said to Ben,

"You should play my favorite song,
My Precious Lord."

He raised up and pow!

Doctor King laid there
with his spine severed

and his face blown off,

but he didn't die crying and die afraid.

He died asking the Lord to lead his hand,

to help him lead us, all of us.

I just wanted to shout.

And, Lord, standing there
with sister Mahalia Jackson,

I got up and I started that song.

It was just an unreal moment for me.

Precious Lord.

Take my hand.

Lead me on.

Yeah, oh, yeah.

Oh, yeah, oh, yeah, let me stand.

I am tired.

Yes, I am

I'm weak.

Lord, yeah, Lord, yeah

I am worn, hey, yeah.

But through.

Through the storm.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Through the night.

Lead.

Lead me on.

To the light.

Take.

Take my hand.

Precious Lord.

And lead, lead me home.

When my way.

Groweth drear.

Precious Lord.

Lord

I want you to linger near.

Lord, you know, Lord.

When my light.

Is almost.

Gone.

Oh, Lord.

You know, Lord.

You know, Lord.

And through the storm.

Oh, I will stand.

Yeah!

- Oh, light my feet.
- Light my feet.

Whoa, yeah.

- Hold me, Lord.
- Hold.

- Hold me, Lord.
- Hold

- I want you to hold me.
- Hold.

- Take me to you.
- Hold.

- Take me to you.
- Hold.

- Hold on to me.
- Hold.

- Hold on to me.
- Hold

I need ya.

Precious Lord.

Take.

Oh, your child.

Lead your child home.

Home.

Oh, yeah.

Man, I'm tellin' you,
that was the time of my life.

When she gave me
that microphone back,

I said, "Oh, she likes what I'm doin'."

And I was honored.

I'm tellin' you,
that is still my biggest honor

to be able to sing
on the same microphone

with sister Mahalia Jackson.

She remains the greatest.

And when you talk about music,

this Black festival is some of every kind,

is some of every style.

Jazz, blues, gospel, all of it is good.

All of it makes you feel good.

Ladies and gentlemen,

that was only the first 15 minutes

of Black history going on here in Harlem.

The festival
was such a cross-section

of the music that was
happening at the time.

We got a few
surprises comin' up here.

People that you didn't even know
thought about what it's all about.

Some people came

because they were truly into the music.

Some came for one act.

And now, ladies and gentlemen,

Motown moves to Soulville

here in Harlem in Mount Morris Park.

My group of friends loved Motown.

One of the greatest song
stylists of our time.

He's a superstar.

He's tall, dark, handsome...

David Ruffin!

I'd like to go back
to the olden days, huh?

To the thing I have for you.
Simply goes like this...

I've got sunshine, whoo...

On a cloudy day.

Whenever it's cold outside

I've got the month of May.

Can I get you to sing along
with me one time?

Well, I guess.

- I guess you'd say.
- I can't hear you.

What can make me feel this way.

It's my girl.

Talking about my girl, yeah

I've got so much honey.

The bees envy me
Yes, darlin'

And I've got a sweeter song.

Than any bird in any tree.

How you doing, brother? Whoo!

Well, I guess you would say.

What pretty new girl could.

Make a man like me feel this way?

It's my girl, whoa, baby.

Talkin' about nobody but my girl.

David had just left
the Temptations.

Hey, hey-hey-hey.

The Temptations were my guys.

I wanna hear you sing!

My friends and I,
we were suit-and-tie guys.

We thought we were the backups.

We couldn't sing, we couldn't do anything,

but we thought we could dance,
we had all the moves down.

I've got all the riches, baby
One sweet man can claim

I love you, too, darling.

At the time,
Motown was still one of

the most popular sounds in America.

Berry Gordy and his team
of Black showbiz professionals

created a whole assembly line
to make 'hood R and B palatable

to the Wonder Bread
mainstream white America.

To put on wax Black people

so that we can widen the distribution
of the Black ideas.

I've got sunshine
on a cloudy day.

Those artists,
they were role models...

these were our people

creating things that made us
feel good about ourselves.

And to see them break through,
we were so proud.

My girl.

I love to talk about my girl, yeah.

Now, ladies and gentlemen,

we're gonna bring up some folks...

I was nervous.

We were so excited about being there,

we'd join our hands

and say prayers before we went on stage.

Gladys Knight.

Now, when I stepped on stage,

I was totally, totally taken aback

because I didn't expect
a crowd like that.

And the Pips!

Oh, I bet
you're wonderin' how I knew.

Baby, baby, baby.

'Bout your plan to make me blue.

With some other girl you knew before.

Between the two of us girls
Ya know I love you more.

It took me by surprise, I must say.

When I found out yesterday.

Don't ya know that I heard it
through the grapevine.

Whoa, I heard it
through the grapevine.

Not much longer would you be mine.

Not much longer
would you be mine.

Oh, don't ya know that I heard it.

Through the grapevine.

Whoa, I heard it through the grapevine.

And I'm just about, just about.

Just about to lose my mind.

Whoa, yes I am.

Whoa, yes I am
Whoa, yes I am.

Baby what you doin' to me.

Oh, take a good look.

At these tears in my eyes.

Baby, baby, these tears
I can't hold on inside.

Losin' you would end my life, you see.

Because you mean that much to me.

You could've told me yourself.

That you were lovin' somebody else.

Instead I heard it through the grapevine.

Whoa, I heard it through the grapevine.

Oh, not much longer would you be mine.

Gladys Knight
was everything to us.

She was the queen of soul.

She gave it to us good,
and the Pips were workin'.

About to lose my mind
Whoa, yes, I am.

Whoa, yes, I am
Whoa, yes, I am.

I know you hear me, boy.

At that time,
we were up and coming,

believe it or not.

I was very young.

Motown was like our family.

In the beginning, we all lived
in the same neighborhood.

Holland-Dozier lived on the corner,

we lived right here,

Martha and the Vandellas
lived right there,

the Temptations lived right behind us.

We were all together.

Cholly Atkins was our number-one guy.

He was the one
that taught us the routines.

We worked, we worked...

we'd go in his basement
at 7:00 a. M. In the morning.

He kept us there until five
or six o'clock in the evening

and if you weren't doing
his stuff right...

He was a father to us
as well as a choreographer.

America had started
to listen to this music

and it took us
to a totally different level

and from there,
we went around the world.

Now bring it on down.

Yes, I heard
Oh, yes, I did.

Yes, I heard, oh.

You know, it's strange.

But the same thing
happened to my three guys.

- Hey, fellas.
- Hey!

Come on and tell 'em.

Just how you found out about it.

Oh, I heard through the grapevine.

Oh, I heard through the grapevine.

And I heard, heard, heard, heard, heard it.

Through the grapevine.

And I heard, heard, heard, heard, heard it.

Through the grapevine.

Yes, I heard
Oh, yes, I did.

Yes, I heard.

Motown was very interested

in us keeping our integrity.

Having class, being polite.

Hey, hey, hey

I heard it through the grapevine.

But I knew something very, very important

was happening in Harlem that day.

I heard it.

It wasn't just about the music.

We wanted progress.

We are Black people,

and we should be proud of this.

And we want our people,

we want our people lifting us up.

Gladys Knight and the Pips.

We believed in what we felt in here.

So, when we went out,
"Let's go! Let's go do it!"

At the Harlem Cultural Festival,

you got a audience that's
showing up who's radicalized.

There's just this embrace of
neo-super Blackness.

That generation had evolved

and Black music was moving
into this rapidly changing era

of psychedelicized R and B.

Ladies and gentlemen,

the internationally known,

the dynamic...

Sly and the Family Stone.

When you saw a Black group,

what you expected to see was,
generally speaking, all men,

all dressed in matching suits,

ready even before they hit
the stage to perform.

He introduced Sly

and the first thing
that happens to the audience

is the feeling of apprehension

because just because they introduced Sly

doesn't mean he's there.

It also doesn't mean
he's coming out immediately.

Ladies and gentlemen,

we're gonna have to stop the show
if you keep on pushing.

We're gonna have to stop
the show right here.

So, the group
would kind of saunter out.

I remember it
being a beautiful, sunny day.

We hit the stage late

and I remember,
"Jeez, there's a big crowd here"

and this was Harlem.

The instruments weren't tuned.

You're wondering, "What are they doing
with girls in the group?

"What is white people doing up there?"

We started tuning up, you know, bam!

Hit the snare, kicks, that's good.

Almost like a loose tuning jam.

And a white guy is the drummer?

We couldn't get this thing,

that the white guy is the drummer.

You know, he's not supposed
to be able to do that.

They came to check us out.

You know, "What you got?"

And probably Jerry and I were
the only two white people there.

As soon as everything
was kicking, it was on.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

I'm talkin', talkin', talkin', talkin'

Walkin', walkin', walkin', walkin'

I'm livin', livin', livin', livin', hey.

Time is passin', I grow older
Things are happenin' fast.

All I have to hold on to
Is a simple song at last.

Let me hear you say.

Ya, ya, ya, ya, ya.

Ya, ya, ya, ya, ya.

Sing a simple song.

Try a little do re mi fa so la ti do.

Sly and the Family Stone
was such a game changer

on so many levels.

They are kind of our first
two-tone soul group.

They were bringing gender parity
into the presentation.

Everybody sing together.

To see a Black woman
playin' a trumpet made me feel great.

Ya, ya, ya, ya
Sing it in the shower, ya.

Sly came up in the church,

so he's got all that vernacular.

He used to be a DJ

in the middle of the
Haight-Ashbury revolution,

so he's coming from the epicenter

of transformative cool,

transformative hip,
politically savvy America.

He's a conservatory student
and a multi-instrumentalist,

so there's the proto-Prince
factor going on.

Sly wanted to address
everybody and everything.

Music was the common denominator.

And music made you want
to challenge social aspects

that needed to be challenged.

Everybody do their thing,
and that's what we did.

You're in trouble when you find.

It's hard for you to smile.

A simple song might make it better.

For a little while, hey.

This is clearly a band
with an evangelical sense

of their church of psychedelic soul.

It's the ministry of fun.

My friend Ethel Beatty,

we loved Sly and the Family Stone.

We loved them.

We said,
"Listen, we can't let this pass up."

But I could not say

that we were going to see
a concert to my mother.

We had to connive.

Maybe I told a fib.

I said I was going to visit my aunt.

We said we were going shopping.

I am everyday people.

We walked to the park.

I am everyday people.

And we ended up on the front row.

The energy was indescribable.

More than excitement.

Sometimes I'm right
and I can be wrong.

My own beliefs are in my song.

The butcher, the banker,
the drummer and then.

Makes no difference what group I'm in

I am everyday people
Yeah, yeah.

There is a blue one who can't accept.

The green one for living with.

A fat one tryin' to be a skinny one.

Different strokes for different folks.

And so on and so on
and scooby dooby dooby.

We got to live together

I am no better and neither are you.

We all the same, whatever we do.

You love me, you hate me
You know me and then.

You can't figure out the bag I'm in

I am everyday people.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

There is a longhair.

That doesn't like the shorthair.

For being such a rich one.

That will not help the poor one.

Different strokes for different folks.

And so on and so on
and scooby dooby dooby.

We got to live together.

There is a yellow one that can't.

Accept the black one.

That won't accept the red one.

That won't accept the white one.

Different strokes for different folks.

And so on and so on
and scooby dooby doo.

I am everyday people.

As I said,
my group of four guys,

we were suit-and-tie guys.

Then we saw Sly, and we were
no longer suit-and-tie guys.

I am everyday people.

The change was in effect.

Watermelon man.

Watermelon man.

When you looked at the audience,

you could see the change in the scene

as it was happening.

There would still be people

in silk and wool and sharkskin,

but you would see the bell-bottoms,

the cut-off shirts.

You saw
platform shoes, hip-huggers,

men wearing no shirt and leather vests.

It was hip, you know.
It was real hip.

At that time,
Harlem was a melting pot

of Black style.

When we got into the late '60s,

there was a new movement.

Afrocentric.

It's a revolution, style revolution,

cultural revolution.

We found that the African
styles just suit us better.

I could remember dashikis.

Everybody had a dashiki.
I think I had a dashiki.

Now, the dashiki is an adaptation

of an African piece.

What we mean when we say dashiki,
is freedom.

So it's a freedom suit.
I can move in any direction.

I never am attacked.

The hair was the biggest change.

Afros.

My generation say it looks nice.

The older generation
thinks it's ridiculous.

The three of us,
me, Yvonne and Cleety,

we all had our natural 'dos,

we couldn't wait to get our hair nappy.

Black people who, unfortunately,

was born in this country

are trying to establish our identity.

This is just about all we have left
to identify ourselves as.

That festival brought in

the different cultures.

Caribbean, Afrocentric,
all the Latin and Cuban.

Mongo Santamaria at this festival,

at this time in Harlem in the '60s

is the nexus of the Black
and brown communities

that make up Uptown New York.

Watermelon man.

His first hit,
Herbie Hancock's Watermelon Man,

is where Cuban music meets jazz.

The festival, it's a political statement

of Black and brown communities.

Ladies and gentlemen,

we bring you Harlem's very own,

the young man who put the soul

into the Latin music, Ray Barretto.

A New Yorican,

it's a New Yorker
with Puerto Rican roots.

Ray Barretto, in particular,
was a New Yorican.

He's a Puerto Rican New Yorker,

born here, raised here in Harlem.

He's the original New Yorican.

But has an unbelievable impact
on Puerto Rican music.

East Harlem, or Spanish Harlem,

was not just Puerto Ricans.

You had Jamaicans,
you had African-American,

Cuban, Black Panamanian,

and they brought with them.

Afro-Cuban, Afro-Puerto Rican music.

In '69, I lived in El Barrio, East Harlem.

There was music coming off
of every fire escape,

out of every social club.

You hear the sound of drumming.

They have roosters crowing,

guys that would sit out
playing dominoes.

We all hung out together,

we danced together, we partied together.

We were speaking a universal
language, the drum.

It goes back
to making the drum

speak to people.

The different rhythms that
each person has in the band,

some of it's up, some of it's down,

but it goes like this.

It comes together

and it forms a bond
and a conversation.

And that conversation
reads out to the audience

and now they're listening

'cause they understand
what you're saying.

I got to perform with Ray
early on in my teens

and I learned a lot by watching him.

Ray's playing, it's all in the wrist,
and that's what I learned.

That's how I play.
More with the wrist.

Mongo's different from Ray Barretto.

He's not just using the tips.

He's using his entire hand to play
and all of his arm.

And the power.

If you ever shook his hand,

all of his fingers would almost be
the same size.

They were swollen
like a club from playing.

Those artists crossed genres.

They're trying to
reunite people with music.

Bringing people together,
that's what it's about.

Now, I know a beautiful truth.

I know that in my blood,

I got Black and white,

red, Puerto Rican, Indian.

I'm all messed up,
but I got soul, I know it.

And so, in every face,
in every face I see...

I see a part of you and you
and you and me...

Together.

The power of music
is to tell our own stories.

We hold a mirror to ourselves.

We write the music
that comes from inside us.

And other people say, "That's me, too."

I said, everybody get together.

Got to do it all if we gonna live

not on the moon,
right here on Earth, baby.

We got to do it all together
before it's too goddamn late.

Go for landing.

We're a go.
Same type. We're a go.

Come on now,
let's go to sing out.

Okay, 75 feet.

Yeah!

There's looking good.

- 60 seconds.
- Lights on.

Some are pushin' hard.

Drifting to the right a little.

Some are holdin' back.

Kickin' up some dust.

You know it's a shame.

30 seconds.

The way some people act.

Three feet
and two and a half down.

The president said.

Okay, engine stop.

That we would overcome.

Tranquility Base here.

We gotta keep
pushin' a whole lot.

The Eagle has landed.

Till the work is done.

Man on the moon. Oh, boy, boy.

It's been a change.

It's been a change.

This whole world.

- Has been a change.
- Danger!

Sunday, July 20th, 1969,

during the Harlem Cultural Festival,

man landed on the moon.

Hooray.

Things have been.

It's a great thing for this country.

Won't be no more

I can't believe that that just happened.

It may be late.

It was terrific.

Or it may be soon.

It's a great technological achievement.

One of these days.

It's really unbelievable.

There'll be a man on the moon

I'm very emotional.

I just hope they make it back.

I felt the world got closer today.

I felt we all got to know
each other that much more.

This whole world has made a change.

Well, there was a large crowd

gathered in Harlem this afternoon.

For some of the reaction there,
correspondent Bill Plante.

There are 40,000,
perhaps 50,000 people

at Mount Morris Park in Harlem,

but they are not here
watching the moon landing.

They are here at the soul festival,

part of the third annual
Harlem Cultural Festival.

And for many of them,

this is far more relevant
than the mission of Apollo 11.

What's your feeling
now that the astronauts

have landed safely on the moon?

I think it's very important,

but I don't think it's any
more relevant than, you know,

the Harlem Cultural Festival here.

I think it's equal.

What are your thoughts?

As far as science goes

and everybody that's involved

with the moon landing and astronauts,

it's beautiful, you know.
Like me, I couldn't care less.

This means more to you than that.

Yeah, much more.

The cash they wasted,
as far as I'm concerned,

in getting to the moon
could have been used

to feed poor Black people in Harlem

and all over the place.
All over this country.

So, like, you know, like,
never mind the moon,

let's get some of that cash in Harlem.

There's been a change and you might be

the president of
the United States one day.

Listen, all of you young people,
this is your verse.

You young people

I think it's a waste of money.

Stay in school.

People are going hungry
all over the United States.

Study hard.

Let's do something about poverty now.

And obey the rules.

Straightening out our problems.

You may be young.

There's so many people...

And you may be able

...who need help.

Haven't got an education.

What's up there on the moon? Nothing.

Can't get common labor.

It's groovy for certain people

but not for the Black man in America.

It's been a change.

Well, here's the way I look at it.
Like that.

Black man wants to go to Africa,
white man's going to the moon.

I'm gonna stay in Harlem
with the Puerto Ricans

and have me some fun.

I had a dream last night,
and in it, I went to the moon.

- You went to the moon?
- Yeah.

Did you go up in the Apollo?

No, I went up in an Edsel.

Well, look, tell me more about that.

What happened?

- Did you plant the flag?
- No.

- You didn't plant a flag?
- No, man.

- What did you do?
- Planted a sign.

- What did the sign say?
- "For sale. Cheap."

A man done gone to the moon.

I went as far as Baltimore with them,
then I got off.

In Harlem, people,
they're not focusing on the moon,

they're dealing
with the everyday realities.

'69 was a tough time for Harlem

because of the heroin epidemic.

What do you think
is the most pressing issue for Black folk?

The number-one thing

is the narcotics addiction in this area.

I would say the drugs,
at this point.

What do you think is the cause

for this influx of drug use
in the Black communities?

One of the reasons is because
of the great oppression

which white racists, you know,
places on the Black community.

And this is one way
of alleviating the pain.

I was addicted for 16 years.

I lost my job,

I lost my family,
my wife kicked me out.

Bad things were happening to Harlem.

Businesses were closin',
lot of people leavin',

the buildings became abandoned.

We are living
in economic colonialism

based on money,

where the greedy are exploiting the needy.

Where we are more concerned
about the moon than men.

Somebody better wake up.

This is a country
with a gross national product

of nearly a trillion dollars.

The money is here.

Any country that can fight
an unpopular war,

spend more money on weapons
than any other single item,

and send men to the moon,

baby, that country
has really got the bread.

But what the moon shot proves again

is that what America hasn't got is soul.

Funky, funky, funky, funky.

Let's get funky.

Your precious sweetheart.

She's so faithful.

She's so true, whoa, yeah.

Her dreams are tumblin'
Her world is crumblin'

Because of you.

One day you'll hurt her
Just once too much.

And when you finally lose
your tender touch.

Oh, oh, shoo-be-doo-be-doo-be-
doo-da-day.

Her feet may wander
Her heart may stray.

Oh, yeah.

Shoo-be-doo-be-doo-be-
doo-na-nee.

You're gonna send your baby
straight to me

I'm gonna give her all the lovin'

Within my heart, oh, yeah

I'm gonna patch up
every single little dream.

You tore apart.

I felt very honored to be there.

I could feel the energy of so many people.

I was 19. I was at a crossroad.

Obviously, I had some success.

We had done For Once in My Life,

I Was Made to Love Her, and Up-Tight,

and many songs.

But I had the feeling

the world was wanting a change.

We were moving into
a whole 'nother time and space

with music and with sound.

Yeah.

You better listen to me
Yeah, yeah.

Heartaches are callin'
Tears are fallin' over you.

And when you're gone

I'm the one to go to her rescue.

Understand me.

You're gonna leave her
One too many times.

And when you come back
She's gonna be mine, all mine.

In '69, Stevie's bordering on,

is he gonna be like the Temptations,

singing his '60s hits
for the rest of his life,

or is he gonna have this breakthrough?

It would have been very easy
to sit where he was.

To be that famous and not lazy,
is amazing.

I enjoyed doing those songs,

but there was this thing
in my heart that said,

"Okay, there is so much more
that you're writing."

Where was this going to lead me,
what was my motivation?

People would say to me,

"Hey, you shouldn't say this,
you shouldn't talk about that,

"you're gonna mess your career up,

"you're gonna mess your records up."

In my mind, I said,

"I don't give a four-letter word."

I never wanted to let fear
put my dreams to sleep.

Hey, whoo!

Stevie is getting into

political involvement.

I'm definitely for it.

I'm for people registering and voting.

I want people to start doing things.

Action is important, gaining power.

We know we've got the soul power.

I would like to raise money.

We've got forty million starving people.

We are dealing with joblessness.

Racism is in this country.

We're dealing with homelessness.

Stevie was performing

for over 10,000 people.

To demand
Doctor Martin Luther King's

birthday become a national holiday.

If something
new doesn't happen now...

We are not African, we are not European,

we are a new people.
We are a beautiful people.

I had pride in the fact
that I was a Black man.

- I am Black.
- I am Black.

- I am beautiful.
- I am beautiful.

I am proud.

'69 was the pivotal year

where the Negro died and Black was born.

It was a significant change

calling yourself Black.

In the early '60s,

if you called someone Black,

it meant you wanted to fight them.

'Cause no one wanted to hear that mess.

Why do we think of Black
as bad and white as good?

White symbolizes purity,
honesty, innocence.

Black represents evil,
wickedness, and gloom.

Whites gave "Black"
its negative meaning.

In 1969,
I was working at The New York Times,

and I spent a lot of time in Harlem.

And for the first time, I wrote "Black"

instead of "Negro" in a story

because I listened to the community.

I listened to the people

who were calling for the change.

But some white editor

changed my wording
from "Black" back to "Negro."

I was so upset.

I dictated an 11-page memo
calling for the change.

And the editor, Abe Rosenthal, said,

"Fine, that's what we're gonna do."

From that point on,
at The New York Times,

people of color, this color,
were referred to as Black.

We were Black and we were proud.

When we started singin'
freedom songs, message songs,

the Black Panthers, Fred Hampton,

Stokely and his boys
would come hear us sing.

And they would let
my sister Yvonne and I know,

"We're watching y'all,
ain't nobody gonna mess with y'all."

Black militancy
and its accent on Black pride

is having a growing effect
across the country.

1969, I was droppin' out of college
to make a revolution.

The people have the power to force

some kind of justice
being done in society

because only when the power
is in the hands of the people

is anything gonna get done.

When we kicked off
the Young Lords Party in New York.

Tactics have
included a garbage blockade,

the occupation of a neighborhood church.

They also occupied, for a time,

part of a hospital.

We're fighting for our own people,
Puerto Ricans,

but it's a fight that's in
the interest of Black people,

of poor white people in this country,

the Asian-Americans.

We were
in complete harmony

with the Black Panthers.

We were tired
of what was happenin'.

The police runnin' amok,

beatin' up on all kinds of people.

Young men is killed by the police.

- Who is this?
- Huey P. Newton.

And where is Huey?

In jail.

Who put him there?

The pigs.

At the same time
as the festival,

the Panther 21 trial
was happening downtown.

I want everybody in Harlem
to get this record down.

We got some brothers
that are political prisoners.

21 Panthers locked up here in New York.

As activists,

we were making a complete
and total commitment.

It was like going to war,

and we were propelled
on a wave of music.

With Black musical expression,

there's a certain kind
of release and catharsis.

There's also rage, there's also trauma.

This notion of
spirit possession from Africa

gets translated into this
horrific American experience.

The artists connect with the pain.

It's like, yeah, I want you to feel.

I want you to feel

who Sonny Sharrock really is right now.

There is a primal,
therapeutic aspect to it.

They call it "freedom music"

because it's what freedom feels like.

These musicians were
expressing musically

what we were thinking and feeling

politically and culturally.

When my dad
put out a song called It's Time,

he was not trying to be slick
and have a message.

No, that is the message.

It's our time, it's time, do it now.

We want liberation.

He wanted to make change.

An important step
for the Black artist to take

is to engage ourselves in ownership

of not only artistic properties,

but physical properties.

The theaters, the clubs,
the record companies.

But his record company

was not interested in politics.

It's like what they say
to the basketball players today,

"Just play basketball."

Well, they were saying,
"Just play drums."

I was coming
to hear Max and Abbey.

They were like our power couple,

but Black power.

I traveled here and yonder

I never found a home

I guess it must be written
All my life to roam.

They were so beautiful,
and young and dynamic.

There's a land of milk and honey.

On the river they call the Nile.

You know this phrase
"unapologetically Black"?

They lived that phrase every day.

The African woman always worked

to bring home the bread.

You do whatever is necessary.

Oh, beautiful, wonderful Africa.

Someday I'm coming

I'm coming for to see the promised land

I'll stop in.

My dad and Abbey
just didn't see

the civil rights struggle
as an American thing.

They saw the struggles in the Caribbean

and South America and in Africa

all as part of a common struggle.

South Africa.

The problems that face
Black people everywhere

are essentially the same,

oppressed by racist institutions
created by whites.

You guys can use
certain kinds of support.

We do have to launch an armed struggle.

From the African continent
to the heart of Harlem,

Hugh Masekela, doing his thing.

In Harlem,

we were being exposed to linkages

between Latinos, Blackness, Africa.

And Hugh Masekela
brings that together.

When my dad left South Africa,

it was during the height of apartheid,

and he's literally escaping apartheid.

He comes to America

and lands straight into
the hotbed of civil rights.

At the time, Grazing in the Grass

was one of the biggest songs
on the planet.

My father realized
there was this real hunger

for Black Americans
to feel and see and taste

what it would be like to be African.

My father loved Harlem.

He always wanted to be within the people.

If it was poppin' off
somewhere where people were

disenfranchised, disempowered,
or needed support,

it was like a tractor beam for him.

Like, he had to go and be part of it.

In general,

you'll find that musicians come from

the activist part of their populations,

and they come usually
from the poor side of town

or represent the opinions
of the people who are exploited.

An artist's duty,
as far as I'm concerned,

is to reflect the times.

And at this crucial time in our lives,

when everything is so desperate,

when every day is a matter of survival,

I don't think you have a choice.

How can you be an artist
and not reflect the times?

Ladies and gentlemen,

we would like to introduce a young lady

who tells the story about the troubles

and tribulations of the ghetto.

The new Black struggle,
the first lady of soul,

Nina Simone.

We walked on water to see Nina Simone.

She looked like a African princess.

She would bang those piano keys.

Her fearlessness,
and her control as a woman,

as a Black woman, was just awesome.

She was sending a message.

Mr. Backlash, Mr. Backlash.

Who do you think I am?

You raise my taxes and freeze my wages.

Send my only son to Vietnam.

You give me second-class houses.

Second-class schools

I know you think that all colored people.

Are just second-class fools

Mr. Backlash.

I'm gonna leave you
with the blues, yes, I am.

Yes, I am
Yes, I am.

When I try to find a job.

To earn a little cash.

All you got to offer.

Is your mean, old white backlash.

But the world is big.

Big and bright and round.

It's full of other folks like me.

Who are Black, yellow, beige and brown

Mr. Backlash

I'm gonna leave you
with the blues, yes, I am.

Yes, I am.

Hey, now.

Yeah.

Nina Simone was filtering

what was going on in this country

through her experience as a Black woman.

She knew what barriers she was breaking

and threw them back in people's faces.

When Langston Hughes died.

He told me many years before.

He said "Nina, keep on workin'

"Till they open up the door.

"One of these days
when they open the door.

"And it's, you know it's open wide.

"Make sure you sock it to 'em
where they live.

"So they'll have no place to hide."

So I'm tellin' you.

Yeah, I got to do it in the hot sun.

But, if necessary
Got to do it.

Yeah.

Oh, God.

I'm gonna leave you with the blues.

Yes, I am
Yeah.

Hello, hello, hello.

Remember Lorraine Hansberry
who wrote Raisin in the Sun?

Yeah!

Okay, there is an off-Broadway show

going on downtown right now

called To Be Young, Gifted and Black.

Some of you have seen it.

It is not a musical, as you know,

but we have taken.

Weldon Irvine,
who is my musical director,

and I have taken the title
and come up with a song,

To Be Young, Gifted and Black.

To be young, gifted and Black.

Oh, what a lovely, precious dream.

To be young, gifted and Black.

Open your heart to what I mean.

In the whole world you know.

There's a million boys and girls.

Who are young, gifted and Black.

And that's a fact.

Nina Simone gave us hope.

You are young,
gifted and Black.

We must begin to tell our young.

"There's a world waiting for you.

"The quest has just begun."

There's a world
waiting for you.

Yours is the quest that's just begun.

In 1961,

my high school classmate
Hamilton Holmes and I

became the first two Black students
to desegregate the University of Georgia.

I wanted to be a journalist

and it had a school of journalism.

What are your plans now

as far as this quarter is concerned?

I'll have to think it over.

Many white students
didn't want us there.

Do you
think there'd be any trouble

if a Negro entered the university?

Well, I do if they were gonna
put her in the dormitories.

How do you yourself feel?

Well, I wouldn't myself like it.

The second or third night

I was on campus,

there was a riot.

Oh, how I long to know the truth.

They put me in a dormitory

on the first floor.

All of the girls in my dorm

were housed on the second floor

and they used to take turns
beating on the floor

'cause they knew
exactly where my room was.

But I had Nina Simone's albums.

So, while the girls were upstairs
beating on the floor,

trying to make me uncomfortable,

I was listening to Nina Simone

and just being very at peace.

To be young, gifted and Black.

Is where it's at.

Is where it's at.

Is where it's at.

Nina Simone
sung that in her tone

that is somewhere between hope
and mourning.

I mean, nobody could capture
both spirits like Nina.

It defined a whole generation

because you could hear in her voice

our pain, but our defiance.

Okay.

Okay. Hold it. Hold it.
This is for you.

It is written by David Nelson.
He's not here today.

There are three Black poets, or six,
or maybe a hundred in this town.

But he's not here
and I didn't memorize it enough

so I have to read it.

It's for you.

Are you ready, Black people?

Yeah!

Are you ready?

Are you really ready?

Yeah!

Are you ready?

Ready to do what is necessary?

Are you ready?

Are you ready, Black man?

Are you ready?

Black woman, are you ready?

- Are you ready, ready, ready?
- Yeah!

Are you ready?

Hear me good now
Hear me good now.

Hear me good now.

Are you ready?

Are you ready to kill if necessary?

Yeah!

Are you ready?

Is your mind ready?

Yeah!

Is your body ready?

Yeah!

Are you ready?

Are you ready to smash white things?

Are you ready?

Yeah!

To burn buildings.

- Are you ready?
- Yeah.

On one side of 125th Street,
an angry crowd of young people.

Across the street,
plans for a state office building.

This whole section of town
here will be destroyed

if a school don't go out there.

They got plenty land downtown
to build a state building.

Why they come up here and pick Harlem,

where all the colored people
and the Puerto Ricans are?

Black everybody.

Are you really, really really ready?

Are you ready to listen.

To all the beautiful Black voices?

The beautiful Black feeling?

The beautiful Black waves
moving in beautiful air?

Are you ready to love Black?

Always loving Black?

Are you ready, Black people?
Are you ready?

Are you ready?

Are you ready to change?

Into a groovy, groovy Black person?

Are you really ready to change yourself?

Turn yourself inside out
Through and through.

And make yourself a through and through.

And through and through.

And through and through and through.

Real Black person?

I say, are you ready?

Ladies and gentlemen,

brothers and sisters,

Nina Simone.

Are you ready?

That concert was like
a rose comin' through cement.

It was a good thing for Harlem

because as much as Harlem
has been maligned

over the years

for the crime and the drugs,

there was a bunch of folk,

law-abiding, productive citizens,

never used drugs, went to work every day,

took care of business,
very community-orientated

and loved Harlem.

Loved where they lived,
loved their community.

It was like nothing
I'd ever felt before in my life.

Before that, the world
was like black and white.

The concert took my life into color.

But then, the festival was forgotten.

It did not register to me
until we were leaving,

when we realized the magnitude of it.

But I never turned around and looked.

Even though
the shows were recorded all summer,

it feels like it happened
and then they threw it away.

I shot the festival,

tried to sell it.

Woodstock was the same year,

and Woodstock got all of the publicity.

So, in selling it,
I started to call it the Black Woodstock.

It didn't help.

Nobody was interested
in a Black show.

Nobody.

Nobody cared about Harlem.

As we all know,
this has happened to Black people.

A lot of our history is forgotten.

I mean, it's not like
that festival is an anomaly.

We hold these
truths to be self-evident

that Black history is gonna be erased.

The so-called powers
that are or were

didn't find it significant enough

to keep it as a part of history.

Because it is a part of history.

We were comin' together
to say this was our world.

The Black world.

This is ours.

We, as a people,

especially today,

need to feel like family.

Holdin' up for each other,

fighting for each other,

liftin' each other up.

We're gonna try to sing
a song together if we can.

Now, the song is called Higher.

We'd like to ask everybody
to join in.

Don't wait for approval
from your neighbor

'cause your neighbor
might be waiting for you.

Now, it goes like this.

Wanna take you higher.

Higher.

Wanna take you higher
CROWD: Higher.

Wanna take you higher
CROWD: Higher.

Higher
CROWD: Higher.

Higher
CROWD: Higher.

Higher, yeah, yeah.

Hey, now.

Hey
Take you higher.

Hey
Hey, hey.

- Wanna take you higher.
- Higher.

- Wanna take you higher.
- Higher.

Wanna take you higher.

Higher.

- Wanna take you higher.
- Higher.

Wanna take you higher
CROWD: Higher.

Wanna take you higher
CROWD: Higher.

Wanna take you higher
CROWD: Higher.

Wanna take you higher
CROWD: Higher.

Wanna take you higher
CROWD: Higher.

Higher
CROWD: Higher.

Higher
CROWD: Higher.

Higher.

Yeah.

Feel it take over.

Feel it take over.

- Wanna take you higher.
- Higher.

- Wanna take you higher.
- Higher.

Wanna take you higher
CROWD: Higher.

Wanna take you higher
CROWD: Higher.

- Wanna take you higher.
- Higher.

- Wanna take you higher.
- Higher.

- Wanna take you higher.
- Higher.

- Wanna take you higher.
- Higher.

Wanna take you higher.

Higher.

- Wanna take you higher.
- Higher.

Higher.

Higher.

Higher.

Ladies and gentlemen,
Sly and the Family Stone.

Yeah.

I'm sorry.

It's like...

You know, it's funny.

You put memories away,

and you don't realize...

Sometimes you don't even know
if they're real.

So, it's almost confirmation
that what I knew is real.

Yeah, so,
you know you're not crazy, like...

I'm not crazy!

Thank you!

So, watching you watch this

is making me overwhelmed now.

I thought I was the only person that...

I knew I wasn't crazy, brother,

I knew I was not crazy.

But now I know I'm not.

And this is just confirmation.

And not only that...

how beautiful it was.

Have a little faith.

In the one you love, yeah.

Have a little faith.

In the one you love.

Nights are cold.

And the days are so long, yeah.

Yeah.

And though I thought
I had a little woman.

That I could call my very own, yeah.

But some of her friends.

Told her bad things about me, yeah.

And I tried to tell that little woman.

To believe in me

I told her, have a little faith.

In the one you love.

Keep the faith, baby.

Have a little faith.

In the one you love.

You know I went to her house.

On a Sunday afternoon, yeah.

I took one look in that woman's face.

And don't you know
Everything was gloom.

Yeah.

She said she had a call.

From someone she knew, hey.

They told her bad things about me.

Things I knew just couldn't be true

I told her to have a little faith.

Oh, Lord.

In the one you love.

Keep the faith
Keep the faith.

Have a little faith.

In the one you love.

Oh, Lord.

I don't ever wanna see
A tear fallin' from your eyes.

Honey, I love ya
and you know I need ya.

I want you always here by my side.

Oh, Lord.

Say it again
Oh, Lord.

Have a little faith.

In the one you love.

Have a little faith.

In the one you love.

Say it again.

Have a little faith.

In the one you love.

Say it again.

Have a little faith.

In the one you love.

Y'all be cool for a minute.

Hey.

What are you doing?

Fellas, silence.

You done?

Hey, dig.

Stevie, I mean, the rain
on my clothes is bad enough,

but you got your hands
on my clothes, you dig it?

Why you gotta cross me
in front of these people?

Hey, man, take your hands
off my clothes.

Man, take your hands off 'em.

What you mean, your clothes?
I bought 'em.

You ain't bought 'em.

I'm goin' now.