A Tribute

When we think about strong black women trailblazing the music industry, what names come to mind? Patti, Aretha, Whitney, Mariah, Lauryn, Alicia, Beyoncé, Sade (in no particular order). But there’s a group of female artists who receive far less attention; song writers, backup vocalists, even less—, producers. What about the group of women who will never get recognized and written into album thank you’s, or end-scene movie credits?

We’ve all heard the story of a female musician, struggling until she got her lucky break. The one who was discovered in a subway, church, or nightclub. But what about the women who have no desire making it big time? Who still have their foot wedged deep in the music industry—living, breathing, and vibrating their gift to the masses. What if there are women who don’t care about monopolizing their voice, losing themselves in other’s dreams and desires? What if there are women who want to remain full-time mothers, adhering a level of anonymity and privacy.

THIS IS A TRIBUTE

To all the songstresses you will never meet. To all of the female musicians who give rise and inspiration to little girls who hear them in church, and inspire young women in nightclub’s while they belt it out on stage. These women are tirelessly working hard to stay true to their craft while navigating everyday caretaking responsibilities. This is a tribute for the women who haven't shined with mainstream stardom.

This is for the artist still working her 9-5 job, caring for her babies (without the help of nannies), cooking dinner every night, scrubbing her own tubs, flying economy class when traveling, and hold a small social media following.

This is for the women who sing hooks on other artists soundtracks, backup vocals, and ghost write lyrics. These women sing good-bye tributes at funerals and sweet serenades at weddings. They lay in bed every night, wrestling the idea of fame and if they should leave their family for a month to fly across the ocean to perform an honorary tribute for the 1950’s group, The Platters.

These women hand-pick their own wardrobes, piecing together fashionable statements. They are their own makeup artist and hair stylist, adding extra expertise in random bathroom’s just before stepping on stage. These women have the voice of a Diva but humility of a saint.

Do you think you’ve met this type of artist? Let me keep going.

These women actively work on their love of music in a not so ordinary, musical-fashion-sort-of-way; vocal warm-ups in the car, band practice in between parent teacher conferences and bedtime. They wake themselves from their sleep to write down lyrics of a catchy song they dreamt, before getting ready for the busy day ahead.

I’m sure you’ve met this type of artist. They live in our small group of friends, church, and immediate family circles. Their powerful voices bring down the house at any function they’ve been asked to perform. Their singing enchants the ears and captures the hearts of those who are lucky to be in their presence.

Their voices bring us to tears when they’ve hit that four-octave vocal note (just sit with that feeling for a moment—a note so pristine, only a few anointed with). These women precisely carry out the melodic ‘B flat, middle C, and high F’ for the National Anthem performed at their child’s little league game.

These women have unknowingly left ever-lasting impressions on strangers, in that wrinkle in time at a very special event.

I write with passion for this type of woman because I know her from personal experience. She is a strong black woman who has fought her own independence within the music industry. She has turned down gigs if it didn’t fit with her family’s schedule, she’s walked away from narcissist wanna-be music moguls who tried to take advantage of a seemingly naive, musically inclined eighteen-year-old girl, and refused music deals because the promoter didn’t pay her fair share.

I know this strong woman who studied music in College, became a lyricist, singer, and song writer at her own pace. This woman has worked with some of Colorado’s top performing artists, singers, bands (Theo Wilson, Dane Ngahuka, Hot Lunch, Yvonne Brown, to name a few) and graced the ears of State Government and Judicial leaders.

This woman has left her family for weeks at a time, living a musicians’ dream in Spain, England, and Malaysia, to serenade high-paying, ticket holders at social-elite tribute concerts. She’s rubbed shoulders with Keith Urban, Nicole Kidman, Tamia, Grant Hill, Vivaca A. Foxx, and more A-listed celebrities, all while holding a humble state, not allowing ego and arrogance to take over.

I know this woman who comes home to kiss her children goodnight and cuddle with her beloved dogs. I know this woman who grew up with a very gifted musician father and witnessed first had what music can do to a person if they ignore their gift.

Let me take a breath as I wipe my tears.

I’ve had the pleasure of watching this woman evolve into the singer she is today, with a voice so powerful, brings most to tears. I know this woman who remains humble in her gift but deserves a seven-figure salary for all her hard work, dedication, and consistency.

Most people give up a dream of music, if they haven’t hit a certain level of success before turning forty—locking it away in a wardrobe closet. But this songstress has found a way to live with her music, like a pesky fly that won’t go away on a hot summer day—if you sit with it long enough, a beautiful lesson will be revealed. Her music has been her muse, saving grace, serenity, and burden. She has been able to evolve her gift, not getting sucked into the expectation of mainstream social media and music enterprises.

This woman is an artist you've never met; the type of musician most musical Diva’s grew up hearing saying, “one day I want to sing like that.”

You see, we have it all backwards, assuming praise should only be given to the talented few who have made it big. But what about the talented thousands who we will never meet but live for the love of music, intertwining the drum (bottom base) beat to their unique lives.

This tribute is to a woman who has no idea strangers come up to me after events, praising her gift that reignited a lost musical flame within, one they wish they didn’t blow out at her age. This tribute is to a woman who hasn’t won a Grammy or graced the cover of a magazine, but remains secure in her artistic gift that she is helping those who are listening.

This is a tribute to my sister— The songstress you’ve never met; singer, song writer, lyricists, mother, daughter, wife, and friend.