Sound and Sociology

In these unprecedented times, Gil Scott-Heron’s poem “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised” has become more relevant than ever. It speaks to people who expect change to come without sacrifice and instead choose to go about their daily lives as if upholding the status quo isn’t putting a huge burden on all of us.

Creating a social movement has never been easy. It requires copious amounts of time, planning, and sacrifice that a lot of people are unwilling to entertain, such as giving up the luxuries and conveniences that we’ve grown accustomed to. 

Rather than establish communal connections and invest in mutual aid resources,  we’d much rather turn to escapism as a means of coping, waiting for the revolution to be televised instead. 

In Kendrick Lamar’s Super Bowl halftime performance he interpolates Scott-Heron’s poem with the lines, “the revolution is about to be televised. You picked the right time but the wrong guy.” 

His callback to the famous poem — and the performance as a whole — received mixed responses. As expected, there were the conservatives that claimed it was the worst halftime performance ever, while on the opposite end of the spectrum, some compared Kendrick Lamar’s commentary to the moment Katniss Everdeen aimed her arrow at President Coin in the third Hunger Games book. 

But the section of the internet that I found myself mostly engaging with is the radical leftist portion that claims that Kendrick’s halftime performance wasn’t revolutionary. 

Most of these takes have a commonality, being that any performance on the world stage cannot truly be radical due to the fact that most artists undergo egregious amounts of censorship to appeal to the masses. 

On top of that, a lot of people believe that any performance/art exchanged for immense capital is inherently anti-revolutionary. 

They’re valid critiques that perfectly encapsulate the contradictory relationship between Hip Hop’s modern capitalist culture and its history as an anti-establishment medium of expression. 

Where they fall flat for me though, is the little leeway given to the idea that art, even produced by the wealthy, lacks any sort of potential to be considered radical. 

When asking the question of how and when art becomes revolutionary, I think the most conclusive answer lies in the response that it elicits from the consumer. 

It sounds like a cop out, and in many ways it can be, but it feels wrong to dismiss art and music created by rich entities as having absolutely zero potential to be radical. 

While the figure themselves might not be revolutionary, that doesn’t mean their art lacks the ability to inspire and ignite. 

When applying this line of thinking to Kendrick’s work, I think the bar is a bit lower considering his history of implementing sociopolitical issues in his music. 

Anyone who has listened to a decent amount of his discography would know that social commentary, while complementary to his work, isn’t at the forefront of his core themes and ideologies.

On "reincarnated,” one of my favorite tracks from “GNX,” Kendrick discusses how he feels his life purpose is to inspire the masses through his music. It’s not him claiming to be a revolutionary, and it’s not him adopting the visuals or watered down ideals of Black radicalists.  

Even though Kendrick’s interpolation of Scott-Heron’s poem can be read as him co-opting those beliefs, I think his proclamation the revolution will be televised is purposely tongue-in-cheek,  suggesting the real revolution will spark as a result of his performance. 

Writer and activist Toni Cade Bambara once said that it is the artist’s job to “make revolution irresistible.” While it may not happen overnight, people are already catching a glimpse of what it looks like to challenge the status quo. 

The spike in searches for Scott-Heron’s poem and the phrase “40 acres and a mule” increased by nearly 100% on Google in the days following the performance. 

Education and exposure is a powerful tool that can be used to convert the masses.  While it shouldn’t always be the job of the oppressed to educate others, many have mistaken that sentiment for the rejection of education outright.  

One of the main issues with modern leftism is that there’s minimal space provided for growth and understanding. The lack of tolerance, nuance, varying opinions and views creates further division and prevents collective efforts toward change from having any lasting impact. 

Direct action is a key component of revolutionary change, and part of that direct action involves uplifting and inspiring those around us. Whether that comes in the form of music, performance art, mutual aid, or celebration, building a sense of community and understanding is the only way to bring about liberation. 

Regardless of where you stand in the conversation, it is clear that there is no revolution without direct action. To achieve this, we have to stop expecting celebrities to bear the brunt of the burden. 

Music can be powerful and has the ability to change lives in incredible ways, but we, as the masses, can’t allow it to be the be-all and end-all of the situation. 

I don’t fully agree with their take on the role of art created by the rich, but writer Ismatu Gwendolyn proclaims that “we, the masses, lack radical imagination,” and cannot conceptualize a world where we take direct action against the powers that be — and I cannot agree more. 

While I don’t think Kendrick’s wealth diminishes the weight that his work holds in terms of inspiring the masses, I do believe that the people need to break ourselves out of the mindset that this is the way things have to be. 

Successful social movements never came about because the actors were playing by the rules created by the establishment. 

Late-stage capitalism does make it difficult for working class people to deviate from the status quo, but we have been brainwashed into thinking that this is all there can be. 

In order to begin the change, we need to start with undoing that line of thinking.