Saul Williams
Carly and I had the opportunity this week to see Saul Williams live in concert at the Grog Shop in Cleveland. The show was just amazing, and it was worth the trip over and over again.
Williams has been a poet and writer for years, has starred in the film ‘Slam,’ published a few books of his work, been a dancer for a hip-hop group, and is now a rapper and musician. He’s a great talent and a highly motivated artist, working with the likes of Trent Reznor on his last album.
His work is very socially aware, and he takes pains to be relevant to the times without being excessively dated. For example, the song “Shakespeare, Act III, Scene 2″ (2004) is a clear criticism of the Bush administration.
“This one goes out to my man
Taking comfort in the trenches
with a gun in his hand
He gets home and no one flinches
when he can’t feed his fam
But Brutus is an honorable man
It’s no coincidence an oil man
would wage war on and oil-rich land
But Brutus is an honorable man.”
Williams’ video for the cover of the U2 anthem, “Sunday Bloody Sunday” changes the tenor and applies the message to the plight of homeless people in America. It’s quite a good version of the song. Other topics he addresses are how the hip hop culture has become self-destructive, personal problems of race and society, the economy, and so much more. Every song is like a tiny manifesto.
During the concert, Williams would sometimes break from a song to talk about an issue. While most musicians will just ask “Everybody doing all right? All right!” Saul Williams would break out with “I think we all know that race is just a social construct, and it would be great if the rest of the world could move past that now.” He makes music not just for a paycheck, but also to send a message. All his music is the broadcast medium of his own beliefs, another way to reach the world and get people to listen.
Musicians using the stage as a soapbox is nothing new. I remember Sarah McLachlan speaking up about some issue during one of her shows, about feeding the homeless or some such. At the time, I was cynical enough to look around at the audience, and they were just rapt. They were ready for her to tell them just about anything. Every day on television there’s some actor or entertainer selling some idea or message to us, and I often think, “who are you? Why should I listen to you about global warming?” It isn’t that I don’t agree with the message, but maybe the messenger. I’d rather hear about the problems in Darfur from someone who matters, like the Secretary of State. But that’s probably St. Jude’s realm, hoping for that.
For some reason, I don’t have that same cynicism with Saul Williams. When he speaks, I want to hear it, and I like to agree with what he says. I think it comes from his words and music. He’s not putting on a face when he does it, the songs are truly a part of him, they are his face, his truth. How can you not rely on it?
I take a lesson from this. I’m often ruled by my cynicism regarding just about everyone’s feelings. I am too blunt, sometimes, and I don’t give people enough credit for their lives. I don’t always think this is a bad thing, because my honesty brings some clarity once the emotions cool off, but I really should try to live my beliefs more strongly, instead of just questioning others all the time. Socrates was a great man, but he was killed for not believing in anything, after all.
