Revolution Playlist, Vol. I
We are amid the greatest revolution since this country’s founding. We’re at an impasse, caught between a virus pressing humanity to the brink and a system driven on punishing those most vulnerable to it. There’s so much more to speak on that matter, and I’m not ashamed to admit it — I’m stumped.
It’s rare when words escape me. I’m usually pretty good at parsing out my thoughts into quick, 140 character tidbits that describe my anxiety, although since Soleimani’s assassination in January, I’ve hesitated. It wasn’t the first time Iranians in this country had been targeted, but it flooded my perception with all the pain, hate, and abuse that I had endured since 2001, when I was no longer targeted for being different but for being Middle Eastern or Muslim, when patriotism dictated we were no longer welcome here. For all of 2020’s shortcomings, it began with a blow to us, and a blow to one remains a blow to all.
So, failure to express myself in writing has driven me to music that I find inspirational to a revolutionary cause. Because of the circumstances, I’ve chosen to use all Black artists, and though most of these musicians are commercially established, I think their songs drive this idea home. I should note — I’m an Iranian only. I’m not Black. This isn’t a suggestion of what music people should be listening to. It’s just a playlist, from one comrade to another.
- Lupe Fiasco, “Streets Are On Fire,” The Cool, 2007
Just starting college in Chicago, you’d be hard-pressed to find a party to go to without a Lupe Fiasco song on the set. And while a lot of his early hits were about attaining stardom from poverty, check the deep cuts — Lupe was the revolutionary rapper for my generation. I’d rarely heard of political rap before he took stage, but the vibe was necessary in crafting who I am today. I chose this song because it often references these revolutions coming out of an epidemic, which I believe was meant to be a metaphor for the state of society itself, although I’d wager Lupe saw the death in our city and smelled it on the horizon.
“Quarantine the dreams and seal off the connections.
Don’t let them in, not a friend, not a reflection.
Everybody’s got it and want you to have it next and
don’t accept them if you want to stay as an exception.”
2. Billie Holiday, “Strange Fruit,” Fine and Mellow, 1939
If you’ve heard this song and felt nothing, it’s likely that you have no soul. This lilting dirge was rejected by the music industry upon its release because of its message about racism. Holiday had to be excused from her contract at Columbia, in fact, just to record it. Though she wasn’t the song’s author, few have done the song the justice that she had in 1939, when lynchings in the south were as common as peaches. Maybe it’s just me, but when I listen closely, I hear the pain of both her and the collective demanding justice in the face of fleeting hope.
“Southern trees bear a strange fruit.
Blood on the leaves and blood at the root.
Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze.
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees.”
3. Childish Gambino, “This is America,” 2018
It’s not like I haven’t written about this track before. Society had already grown feint from the number of videos of police killing Black men already by the time this song dropped, which is what made this banger the official theme of 2018, although the lyrics haven’t become any less relevant. Of course, I’ve always been biased toward Childish since his early mixtapes, improv, and his role on the television show, Community, but too few popular musicians have nailed it quite like he had since.
“Look at how I’m livin’ now.
Police be trippin’ now.
Yeah, this is America.
Guns in my area.
I got the strap.
I gotta carry ‘em.”
4. Bob Marley & The Wailers, “Revolution,” Natty Dread, 1974
Bob Marley wasn’t just a well-known artist for endorsing 420. By the 1970s, Jamaica was left nothing more than a colonized slum. In fact, a mere two years after this song came out, Marley himself had survived an assassination attempt. And while the country turned to progressive values like socialism, Jamaica was on a steep economic decline because of their relationship to other socialist nations that had been embargoed. Nonetheless, Marley’s smooth, mellow chant is enough to inspire anyone to stand up and demand equality.
“I don’t want to live in the park.
Can’t trust no shadows after dark.
So my friend, I wish that you could see,
like a bird in the tree, the prisoners must be free.”
5. Jay-Z, “Run This Town (Feat. Kanye West & Rihanna),” The Blueprint 3, 2009
Before Kanye sold out and Jay endorsed the NFL after Kaepernick’s termination, this pair really were out to create change. In a post-gangster rap era, they defined a Black pride and exceptionalism in a way that changed music forever. I selected this song in part because of its production and chorus, but its video most of all illustrates and defines the revolution as its unfolding, from protests about police violence to riots and looting, and why these tactics are necessary in an era where the distinction between left and right has been boiled down to race alone.
“Can’t be scared when it goes down.
Got a problem? Tell me now.
Only thing that’s on my mind
is who’s gonna run this town tonight.”
6. Funkadelic, “Maggot Brain,” Maggot Brain, 1971
Anyone who doesn’t love the funk strikes me as someone who doesn’t enjoy music. But this isn’t like George Clinton’s other works. There’s a rumor that he had been inspired to write this song after arriving at his brother’s apartment in Chicago, only to find him dead with his skull cracked open. It doesn’t surprise me — for a song with so few lyrics, it evokes so much emotion through instrumentation alone. And despite the brevity of those lyrics for what is in fact a 10 minute track, Maggot Brain speaks to a deep, powerful sadness for the mistakes that imperial regimes have left us.
“Mother Earth is pregnant for the third time,
for y’all have knocked her up.
I have tasted the maggots in the mind of the universe.
I was not offended,
for I knew I had to rise above it all
or drown in my own shit.”
7. The Coup, “The Guillotine,” Sorry To Bother You, 2012
No soundtrack to the revolution would be complete without the Coup. Before Boots Riley made what’s in my opinion one of the most important films of the decade (Sorry To Bother You), he was a revolutionary socialist hiphop artist. Although the video says enough, illustrating the decapitation of a man dressed as the Monopoly character, the lyrics speak to deeper, systemic pain brought on by colonization and imperialism. But this isn’t a painful song — under other circumstances, this might be the summer vibe with its upbeat tempo and a chorus of children’s voices that sound more like a schoolyard rhyme than a threat against the wealthy. But this is the revolution.
“Caution — we’re coming for your head,
so call the feds and get files to shred.
Every textbook read said bring you the bread,
but guess what we got you instead?”
8. Dead Kennedys, “Soup Is Good Food,” Frankenchrist, 1985
I bet you’d wondered when I would include a punk band. As far as punk legends go, few bands overshadow Dead Kennedys. I chose this song not simply because their drummer and backup vocalist, D.H. Peligro, is in fact Black, but because this song in particular is definitively their sound, though they broke up a year later. Sure, it has a little surf-rock in there with vocals reminiscent of Vincent Price, but its the lyrics that strike me. Soup is Good Food illustrates poverty, industrialization, and commercialism. In many ways, it gets to the very heart of what punk really is.
“We’re sorry,
you’ll just have to leave.
Unemployment runs out after just six weeks.
How does it feel to be a budget cut?
You’re snipped.
You no longer exist.”
9. Killer Mike, “Reagan,” R.A.P, 2012
Killer Mike is a hard man to read sometimes — on the one hand, he endorses Bernie Sanders and Jeremy Corbyn, and on the other hand, he has NRA affiliations and opposes the tactics of this revolution. Everybody with an ear loves Run the Jewels, but before that, his activism through music wasn’t disguised by slick beats. It was raw, and fewer songs in his repertoire are more raw than this one. By recounting the events of Reagan’s presidency, he ties police violence and racism to both republican and democratic parties without pulling any punches, a reminder that change isn’t made by politicians alone.
“They declared the war on drugs like a war on terror,
but what it really did was let the police terrorize whoever.
But mostly black boys, but they would call us ██████
And lay us on our belly, while their fingers on their triggers.”
10. Destiny’s Child, “Survivor,” Survivor, 2001
Putting together a list of powerful musicians without including Beyonce is either racist or sexist or both, as far as my opinion goes. Though Beyonce isn’t entirely a paragon of holding up the disadvantaged, she has become an inspiration to women and people of color everywhere. And as I scrolled through her catalogue, there was one song that stuck in my mind — 2001’s Survivor by Destiny’s Child isn’t a song about revolution, but it is a song about struggle in the vein of Gloria Gaynor. Though this came out in the era of cheesy music videos, this track goes hard and it’s been stuck in my head for nearly twenty years. I’m not going to lie — I used to own this album.
“Thought I couldn’t breathe without you, I’m inhaling.
You thought I couldn’t see without you, perfect vision.
You thought I couldn’t last without you, but I’m lastin’.
You thought that I would die without you, but I’m livin’.”
11. Kendrick Lamar, “The Blacker The Berry,” To Pimp A Butterfly, 2014
If there’s one artist who could blend trippy, complex beats with a reggae chorus and utter rage, it’s Kendrick Lamar. A lyrical genius, Kendrick gets to the heart of discrimination in this track from his third album. Teeth-bared, he details the visceral struggle of systemic racism while addressing perceptions of himself by those who would be rid of him. Or us. This song isn’t music to chill to — it’s music to invigorate your anger, to drive you forward for the revolution at hand. Frankly, I hesitate to pick a better song from this list.
“This plot is bigger than me, it’s generational hatred.
It’s genocism*, it’s grimy, little justification.
I’m African-American, I’m African —
I’m black as the heart of a fuckin’ Aryan.”
*(”Genocism,” is a word created by Kendrick, defined as willful ignorance of past atrocities.)
12. Alicia Keys, “How It Feels To Fly,” The Element Of Freedom, 2009
Though this ballad isn’t about revolution, something synonymous to its gospel choir and lyrics certainly lives within the heart of all revolutionaries going forward. This lilting song sticks with you like a lingering hug from a loved one and I’m reminded of everyone we’ve lost in the years that preceded this revolution when I listen to it. Outspoken against the administration, many consider Alicia Keys to be one of the most woke musicians on the national circuit, and though she may not write much about it, I certainly feel that vibe.
“Have you ever felt so lost
but didn’t know ’til you were found?
Looking everywhere, but you finally see now,
in a room full of people,
feel like no one’s around,
got your head in the clouds and your feet up off the ground.”
13. Nas, “One Mic,” Stillmatic, 2002
Nas is controversy all across the board — whether it’s feuds with other rappers, domestic violence allegations, or outright vulgarity, his raps made an impact on me. One Mic, especially, was a track that I played on repeat on a burned CD on my Sony walkman plugged into a car stereo through a cassette player adapter. It begins with a very subdued Nas, but as he speaks of racial injustice, his fury rises — all set to a soft beat with escalating drums. He may not be a role model, but it’s tracks like this that made me who I am today.
“Police watch us, roll up, and try knocking us.
One knee I ducked, could it be my time is up?
But my luck, I got up, the cop shot again.
Bus stop glass bursts, a fiend drops his Heineken.”
14. 2pac, “Changes,” Greatest Hits, 2008
Although this is the first (and, by far, most popular) 2pac track on this list, this song’s posthumous release revealed a different a 2pac that we had only glimpsed before. It’s easy to condemn the guy for songs like Me And My Bitch, but 2pac’s complexity is best illustrated in this piece as he addresses poverty, police brutality, and systemic racism. It’s got a piano rock sample (The Way It Is by Bruce Hornsby & The Range) and even makes reference to the Black Panthers as shown below, but most of all, this song spawned a generation of young woke millennials who now take part in this revolution.
“First ship’em dope and let’em deal the brothers.
Give ’em guns, step back, watch ’em kill each other.
It’s time to fight back that’s what Huey said.
Two shots in the dark, now Huey’s dead.”
15. Sade, “Feel No Pain,” Love Deluxe, 1992
Sade is one of those artists that we can be thankful never seems to stop having cultural impact, and among some of my favorite songs by her is this soft-sung recitation of a Black family’s struggles to a collection of drum beats. While the beat isn’t anything to write home about in this day-and-age, the vocals and lyrics are the stand out story, painting a picture of poverty and isolation, with lyrics more like pleas: “Don’t let them lose, we’ve got to give them a chance.” It breaks my heart listening to this track, but that’s why it’s so important to this cause, and Sade will remain a legend long after we’ve won.
“There’s nothing sacred,
breathing hatred.
We have to face it.
No one can take it
and feel no pain.”
16. 2pac, “Runnin’ (Feat. Notorious BIG),” Tupac: Resurrection, 2003
Another posthumous track credited to 2pac, although this one is more of a mash-up of unused recordings from 2pac and Biggie, produced by Eminem. While the song certainly features a lot of the machismo from the works they both released while alive, it also has an overcast of police brutality set to high instrumentation and peppered with interviews from both Smalls and Shakur leading up to their deaths. It is an homage to their intertwined fates and the circumstances that drove them to feud against one and other. Deathrow Records is just as responsible for their end as the culture that spawned it, after all.
“My main man had two strikes,
slipped, got arrested, and flipped.
He screamed “Thug Life!” and emptied the clip.
Got tired of runnin’ from the police.”
17. Erykah Badu, “Master Teacher,” Amerykah, 2008
Although dismissive of politics and activism (supposedly), Badu’s Master Teacher is said to have coined the term: woke. Additionally, this song has an electro-jazz beat, vocals that are at one moment smooth like butter and then crispy as ice, and it addresses problems within the Black communities, including poverty, infidelity, and disassociation from society that many people of color experience. I can’t speak for everyone standing up for the revolution, including Badu herself, but this song among many others on this playlist certainly helps me to “stay woke.” I don’t mean that ironically, really.
“Teach us, teach us, teach us.
What if there was no ██████?
Only master teachers, now.
I stay woke.”
18. NWA, “Fuck Tha Police,” Straight Outta Compton, 1988
Is there a more definitive song of this movement than this? Even after being harassed by the LAPD and threatened by the FBI for writing this track, NWA kept pushing the fight — it was their story. Also, it was banned in most of Oceania, which… okay, whatever. But this song, in NWA’s style, is as red-band as songs came in that era. It challenged authoritarian concepts, pointing the finger at both the police but also at the societal norms framing NWA’s harassment by the police. It’s a tour de force of mid-tempo raps and beats that culminate in a what has now become a national slogan for those in protest.
“Huh, a young ██████ on the warpath.
And when I’m finished, it’s gonna be a bloodbath
of cops, dyin’ in L.A.
Yo Dre, I got somethin’ to say:
fuck the police.”
19. Ice Cube, “Good Cop Bad Cop,” Everythang’s Corrupt, 2017
You must have known Ice Cube was going to make this list once more. And although there is nearly a thirty year gap between the release of Fuck Tha Police and Good Cop Bad Cop, the themes are quite similar. If you’ve ever seen the video for It Was A Good Day, which ends in Cube’s house being stormed by police, followed by the words “To be continued…” then you’ll understand how this feels like a continuation of his narrative about his relationship to law enforcement. The song is about how Black police stay silent when confronted by the corruption and violence of white officers, who are more likely to push their black partners to their death than face the scrutiny of their own crimes and failures. And it’s a banger.
“Good cop, good cop, where is your dignity?
Where’s your empathy?
Where is your sympathy?
Bad cop, where’s your humanity?
Good cop — is that just a fantasy?”
20. Gil Scott-Heron, “Comment #1,” Small Talk At 125th and Lenox, 1970
The last song on this list isn’t a song, but a poem set to a drum beat. I chose to include this because it is the poem that has always inspired for me what this revolution is about. We can quibble about all of the things we want, but Scott-Heron through this poem demands an opportunity to live peacefully. I’m empathetic to his concept, because it’s the same outcry that I make on behalf of myself, and that’s yet another part of the reason this tragedy and what it inspired is so difficult for me to write about. In too many ways, this poem reveals more about how I feel than I’m capable of saying just yet.
“He is fighting for legalized smoke or lower voting age,
less lip from his generation gap and fucking in the street.
Where is my parallel to that?
All I want is a good home and a wife and a children
and some food to feed them every night.”
Viva la revolución.
