- You know, if black culture had some kind of a birthmark,
probably have to be music, right?
I mean, no matter where we live, music seems to live in us.
It's like a connection.
You could see it in how we walk.
You can hear it in how we talk.
Like, it lives in our joints, in our knuckles,
in our knees, in our elbows.
It lives in our mouths, whether opened or closed,
and reminds who we are and where we've been.
Did you know that there's a sacred symphony
coded in the hum of us?
Did you know that we can teleport
just by putting our hands together,
just kinda like...
back to the talking drum of West Africa?
Back to the griot and the storyteller telling tales
while plucking the strings of a cord?
Back to the collective heartbeat of the journey across the Atlantic Ocean,
sounds of waves crashing like cymbals against
the sides of the boats.
Back to the field hollers and the spirituals,
back to the sound of steel instruments
like shovels pushing into the ground
which is how we kept pace while working,
how we passed secrets to one another.
Songs like "Go Down, Moses" and "Wade in the Water"
were really hidden messages of rebellion and escape.
Back to the Delta, where we played jugs and spoons.
Yes, jugs and spoons,
and slapped our chests and patted our knees
and stomped our feet to make the beat.
Where we played the harmonica and eventually the guitar.
And from green grass and red clay and brown skin
came the blues.
Back to New Orleans where the cultural gumbo
birthed a music all its own.
Had a swing to it, a bold flavor that matched
the people who were making it and had way, way too much color
to be named one, so they called it jazz.
Back to Sunday service, storefront sanctuaries
where gospel music could make us feel like
flying and crying and praying and laughing.
Make us feel like we might have a chance in this world.
And when the blues and gospel bled into one another,
out came some of the best and baddest music to ever exist,
rock 'n roll.
It was a musical movement that birthed rebels,
people who liked to shake their bodies
and shake up the world.
Rebels like Little Richard, Jimi Hendrix, Tina Turner,
or even Screamin' Jay Hawkins, whose music was so cutting-edge
that way in the 1950s
it was banned on the radio.
And I know what you thinking.
Yes, they had radio back then.
- Hey, we TwinsthenewTrend, and we're about to listen
to some black rock 'n roll. - Yes, sir.
First up, we've got Screamin' Jay Hawkins.
We have never heard of this guy before.
Let's see what he got.
( music playing )
- Yeah. - Oh.
- [chuckling] - You see that? He got--
You see the little, you know, horns he got in his nose,
out coming out his nose?
He got a skull on him, on his hand?
[imitating babbling]
Like he's going to throw up or something.
( music continues )
I love how you-- you can tell he screamed.
You can see the veins in his neck.
- Definitely, man. Yeah. - With the tambourine.
Next, let's hear some Little Richard.
( music playing )
- TIM: Oh! - FRED: Okay.
- TIM: Oh, look at this! He's got a--
Look like he got a good perm on his head.
- What type of hairstyle is-- - Black and white,
you know this was back in the day.
Now this is classic.
- TIM: He probably the first "Lil" out of everybody,
from Lil Wayne, from...
- Lil Uzi. - Lil Baby.
- Yeah, Lil Durk. - This was made in 1950, so...
- They can't say nothing. - He got the rights.
- The first Little.
- They need to pay him his money.
He needs to copyright all the Littles.
I like that for sure. Got a good beat. Church vibes.
- Definitely, man. He made his own language, man.
[both scatting, laughing]
- TIM: Last, we got the legend Jimi Hendrix.
( music playing )
He kissing the guitar and everything.
- Everything. Is that smoke? Oh, what?
- He got the guitar on fire? - Wow.
- I don't even know how you just light that on fire.
I don't why he did that,
but, yeah, he got some magic. - Yeah.
- He got some magic.
- There's something about him we don't know about.
- How did he just light the guitar on fire?
I don't know how he did that. That's amazing.
- FRED: That's crazy. It's cool, man.
We did our little research on all the amazing artists.
They're the first ones to make rock 'n roll.
- TIM: And just how they just came about with their own flair,
their own style. - FRED: Definitely.
- TIM: How they just created their own flow,
and people now doing what they was doing back then
that they thought was weird. - Yeah.
- They trendsetters. - Definitely, yeah.
- That's right.
We created rock 'n roll,
and from there to soul, to disco, to funk,
to punk, to R&B,
black culture has always been connected to music.
Matter of fact, we still clapping
to the sounds of our lives, but nothing has had
the global impact, and I mean nothing
has had the global impact or has done more to connect,
or should I say, reconnect black folks around the world like hip-hop.
At its core, it has the call and response of field hollers,
the grit of the blues, the improvisation of jazz,
the emotions of gospel,
and the irreverence of rock 'n roll.
It samples them all and lays over top
a unique style of poetry,
turning rappers into griots in gold chains.
I know.
I know y'all know Kendrick Lamar,
but did you know that before Kendrick was blending his poems with jazz,
there was a group called the Watts Prophets in the 1960s
who were doing the same thing?
Or what about the Last Poets, another group in New York
around at the same time who also blended poetry and jazz
and created an early form of what we now call rap?
And there's more, many, many more,
so many artists for you to dig up and discover
to see how the mixing of all our musical movements and moments
is what made hip-hop our newest masterpiece.
( music playing )
ANDERSON: Yo, yo, yo.
Y'all sound great, but y'all know this one?
( music playing )
- Now performing his number-one adult contemporary hit,
"Make It Better."
( music playing )
- I was raised to understand that
every month was Black History Month.
That every day, my ancestors, contemporaries,
and dreamers like myself can, shall,
and continue to make history.
I would realize through the education I received
from my parents and my own travels
that Robert Johnson, Louis Armstrong, Sarah Vaughan,
and Slick Rick were one and the same,
native storytellers who shined a light on our purpose,
preserved our legacy, and without question, rocked the house.
( music playing )
Some might argue that this here scribe
is talking a whole lot of jazz,
but anyone fly enough
and culturally astute enough to listen
will hear what I'm saying.
We are here, from the beginning, forever,
we continue to rise.