Stax is one of America’s true cultural treasures. A Memphis institution in the 1960s and 1970s, the label nurtured and fostered the original generation of soul musicians. Otis Redding recorded for Stax. Isaac Hayes and Dave Porter wrote many of the label’s biggest hits, including Sam & Dave’s “Hold On, I’m Coming.” “Soul Man” is a Stax tune. Booker T. and the MGs served as both a de facto house band and stars in their own right. At a time when Motown was producing soft-edged, easy-to-swallow hits-makers like The Temptations, Stax’s music was harder-edged, grittier, more dangerous. It was considered to be the blacker of the country’s two dominant African-American labels of the time, but Stax was actually more integrated than Motown ever was.
The museum lovingly recreates the original Stax studio–known at the time as Soulsville, U.S.A.–along with wall after wall of exhibits, gold records, never-before-seen pictures, even Hayes’ gold-plated Caddie. And a visit to Stax is a visit to not only the birthplace of rock ’n roll (Sun Studios, Graceland, and the Smithsonian’s Rock ’n Soul Museum are all in Memphis) but a visit to one of the pivotal cities in the history of the civil rights movement (Martin Luther King was killed in downtown Memphis; the site is now the National Civil Rights Museum).
Just as important as Stax’s rich and corrugated history, the Stax project, which was built on an abandoned, weed-choked lot where the Stax studios had once stood, is trying to revitalize a blighted neighborhood. Next door to the museum is a not-for-profit academy that will teach music for free to local children. The museum borders a row of beaten-down beauty parlors, including the Magnificent Barber School of Knowledge and Shirley’s Beauty Salon.
Those preceding paragraphs are a shorthand way of saying, for a hundred reasons, this is a good story. The racial history of the South; the foundation of modern R&B music; the country’s musical legacy; efforts to revitalize downtrodden urban areas by investing in culture and local youth–any of these are threads that an enterprising reporter or editor could pull and get a rich, multi-textured story.
But, with the exception of myself, there were exactly zero national magazine reporters on hand. No one from Rolling Stone. No one from Vibe. No one from Vanity Fair or Entertainment Weekly or The Source. Only one national newspaper reporter showed up–Jon Pareles from the New York Times. The Washington Post, the Los Angeles Times, even USA Today all passed on covering the opening. PBS filmed the concert for a fundraiser; besides that, only a single CBS crew was on hand. No one from VH1, no one from MTV, no one from BET. (“I’m shocked,” a CBS cameraman said as we walked through the museum. “I thought we’d be fighting to be first on a story like this. To have no one else here…it’s weird.”)
“It’s unfortunate that black cultural accomplishments are often respected only after a delay,” Chuck D., the voice of rap’s Public Enemy, said at the Orpheum, minutes before sharing the stage for a rousing reworking of the Bar-Kays’ “Soul Finger.” “There’s kind of a cultural echo chamber. It makes this type of celebration bittersweet.” On Monday, when it became clear that there would be no outpouring of coverage, Chuck was disappointed, but not surprised. “This is the usual response from mass media when it comes to black culture. Personally, it was the most significant thing I’ve ever been invited to in my life.”
“I share your confusion,” says Alan Light, a former editor of Spin and Vibe who is starting his own music magazine. “I pitched it around. I would have loved to have written about this. It’s sad that there’s nobody who feels there’s a responsibility, if nothing else, just to be comprehensive. I mean, why pretend to run news stories in a music magazine if you don’t cover this?” (On Monday, after being asked why they hadn’t covered the opening, Vibe said it was planning on a story in the future. “I don’t know what exactly we’ll do,” Serena Kim, the magazine’s features editor, said. “But it’s an important label, and it’s very important to the history of black music.”)
“Survivor will get attention, right?” Chuck D. asked, referring to the reality TV show. “But we can’t get mass media to come to the table and be righteous. Mass media makes the most of its money by being unconscious. The bottom line is based on a large dosage of now. And the BET’s, the Vibes, all these black institutions that are now corporate owned entities, they cry at the end of the day for the unacknowledgement of our history but they contribute to it in their search for their bottom line survival.”
I’ve never been one to subscribe to media conspiracy theories. But whatever the reason–laziness, apathy, carelessness, malice–it’s a sorry shame that as important, and uplifting, a story as that of the Stax celebration couldn’t be heard among the deafening din of today’s media culture. On another note, it seems strange to write a media column and not address the story of Jayson Blair, the young, talented New York Times reporter who destroyed his promising career by plagiarizing stories and possibly fabricating quotes and scenes. I know Jayson very slightly; he was irrepressible and immensely likable and hugely energetic and very ambitious.
Too many reporters will sift through the wreckage of Jayson’s career. I want only to add this: it makes me sad that there seems to be a perverse delight in the downfall of a 27-year old reporter. Blair told the AP he was struggling with personal issues. I hope he gets the support to deal with whatever he needs to deal with. Journalism–and the Times–will survive this scandal with their reputations more or less intact. We should all hope Jayson can move on as well.
