On Beyoncé, the Grammy’s, and the Trap of Winning while Black
Two Sundays ago at the 59th Annual Grammy Awards, Adele shocked many in claiming victory over fellow superstar Beyoncé for Album of the Year. No doubt, Adele’s 25 was remarkably noteworthy on two counts; having sold more than 20 million records to date, it also garnered widespread critical acclaim. Released in late October, “Hello,” the album’s lead single, undeniably dominated the latter three months of 2015. Yet, Lemonade was 2016. To many fans, Lemonade was transcendent, continued evidence of Beyoncé’s #flawless divinity. Music reviewers and millennial-catering journalists alike worked at hyper-speed to deduce the significance of Beyoncé’s latest release, disseminating think-piece after think-piece to the masses in an effort to extol the genius of Queen Bee. Thanks to Adele’s own acceptance speech, no one can ever deny Lemonade’s ability to bring its listeners and watchers to literal tears. At a time when social disregard for the wellbeing and safety of black bodies, minds, and spirits appeared crushingly, insurmountably high, Beyoncé’s ode to black female sorrow and self-actualization acted as a much-need salve. It was, quite frankly, a cultural revelation. Name a more iconic use of a baseball bat in 2016… I’ll wait, MLB.
And so, the surprise and dismay over Beyoncé’s loss to Adele is entirely warranted. Given the history, and persistent trend, of white musical endeavors borrowing from, taking precedence over, or outright silencing black music, it may even be necessary. Record of the Year. Album of the Year. Song of the Year. Admittedly, Beyoncé suffered fairly substantive losses. Yet, in focusing so totally on Beyoncé’s loss, we also forget her wins. I don’t mean Lemonade’s triumph in the dubiously titled “Best Urban Contemporary Album” category. An accolade previously bestowed upon the likes of Frank Ocean and the Weeknd, this seems a convenient means of “rewarding” commercially successful and incredibly mainstream black artists, whilst protecting white interests. Rest assured, T-Swift and her on-trend brand of #galpal feminism need not truly be threatened by black musical success. No, I’m talking about Beyoncé’s second win of the evening, for Best Music Video, a category that thankfully doesn’t give off the same patronizing, “blacks only” vibe of Best Urban Contemporary Album.
This is an award that’s been won by a bevy of notable artists, white and black alike. From Taylor Swift, Lady Gaga, and Adele, to Missy Elliot, Rihanna and the Black Eyed Peas, this award has historically boasted a diverse array of commercially successful superstars. So, Beyoncé isn’t exactly out of her depth in claiming this victory. However, the video in question, “Formation,” certainly stands out in relation to radio-friendly winners like Pharrell’s “Happy” and Paula Abdul’s “Opposites Attract.” That’s not to imply that the political has never claimed a stake in this category. Just last year, Kendrick Lamar’s partial ode to #BlackLivesMatter, “Alright,” was nominated, and in 1986, the United Support of Artists for Africa, aka a who’s-who of 80’s era superstardom, won with their charity-minded “We are the World.” Yet “Formation” raises the political stakes because it risks no ambiguity when it comes to its target audience.
Recall that the video begins with Beyoncé perched atop a half-submerged police car, as images of water-logged homes and gyrating black bodies merge with Messy Maya’s “bitch, I’m back” boasts. The effect of such is to immediately localize the video in New Orleans, a city synonymous with black culture and post-Katrina black pain. Scenes of contemporary New Orleans meld quite seamlessly with Old-South iconography, as Beyoncé, poised in a sheer, all-white lace ensemble with matching parasol, holds court over her fellow black women in a sprawling plantation home. When Beyoncé proudly proclaims herself a product of an explicitly Southern brand of intraracial love (Negro, Creole, Texas bamma’), the camera pans to different paintings of black or otherwise racialized women. When she later self-qualifies as “yellow-bone,” she employs, unintentionally or otherwise, extremely loaded and coloristic rhetoric, thereby situating herself within the complicated and sensitive narrative of black identity.
This all makes sense if we understand Beyoncé’s specifically black agenda with this video. “Formation” exemplifies Beyoncé’s unsubtle, all-caps stabs at black authenticity. Note Big Freedia, here the vocal stand-in for queer black culture, licking her lips over “cornbreads and collard greens, bitch” as three unidentified black women stand idly in a wig shop, literally stroking one of the mostly highly politicized objects in black culture, fake hair. From scenes of pastel-colored, Mardi Gras costuming, to competing forms of black religiosity, the mystical and superstitious against the stereotypical Baptist, Beyoncé is really attempting to hit all her (black) bases. When Martin Luther King Jr. appears at around the three and a half minute mark, in an image of “The Truth” newspaper heralding the Reverend as “more than a dreamer,” one almost wonders why it took so long for him to show up.
“Formation’s” intent, then, is ultimately one of unfiltered black representation and visibility. Be it the good, the bad, the problematic, or the naively exploitative, Beyoncé attempts to bare a black soul in its totality. “Formation” could have just as easily won the award for “Best Urban/Black/Non-Complacent/Dangerous Music Video,” had any of those categories been an option. But, of course, they weren’t. Instead, “Formation” found itself a nominee within a “mainstream,” non-racially specific award category. Moreover, Beyoncé’s competition was stiff, intellectually and artistically speaking. Fellow nominees included: Coldplay’s “Up & Up,” Leon Bridges’ “River,” Jamie XX’s “Gosh,” and OK Go’s “Upside Down & Inside Out.” The former offers a surrealist and downright whimsical visual journey (think Chris Martin singing whilst literally on top of the world.) OK Go’s video was, incredibly, shot in a single take and featured the band in a reduced gravity aircraft. Beyoncé wasn’t alone in propagating a political agenda either. Bridges’ video is a compelling and holistic visual narrative of black life that argues for the remarkable resilience of black hope; XX’s “Gosh” is an examination of a fascist, cult-like mentality and political system that proves as unsettling as it is beautiful. With this in mind, then, “Formation’s” win could be considered a triumph of Beyoncé’s artistic excellence and her team’s creative vision.
Yet, music heavyweights like the Jacksons and Madonna have both won and lost this category. The preceding four years featured nominees as storied as they come in the popular music industry: Taylor Swift, Jay-Z, Justin Timberlake, Macklemore, Sia, Kanye West, Rihanna. It would not have been out of the ordinary for Beyoncé to have duked it out against at least one of these commercial titans in 2017. Where’s Ariana Grande or Katy Perry when you truly need them, am I right? Instead, her most commercially formidable competitor was Coldplay. In a night that witnessed “Formation” compete with safer, “whiter” stars like Adele, Mike Posner, Drake, and Justin Bieber for both Record of the Year and Song of the Year, the race for Best Music Video was conspicuously lacking in star power. It’s also the only race in which “Formation” emerged victorious. This dynamic poses Beyoncé’s capacity to win as worryingly contingent upon the commercial clout of her fellow competitors, and thus the financial interests of the Grammy’s itself.
This should not be surprising. The very rhetoric that complements “Formation’s” visual brilliance also strikes the biggest blow against its commercial viability. After all, Beyoncé’s effort to render unfiltered blackness extremely visible is an act of powerful political activism. “Formation” closes with a black youth attempting to literally disarm a wall of armed forces by dancing, an attempt to protect black life with black expression. Later, the police car submerges beneath Katrina’s wrath, with Beyoncé still draped atop it; she persists in her blackness, willing to go down with the ship in a very self-aware declaration of black martyrdom. “Formation” is black love, black pride, and thus black protest in its most powerful iteration. Such a message cannot possibly stand to win. It cannot possibly be allowed to out-shine Adele, for such an allowance would be a symbolic blow to the white establishment writ-large. It would allow a remarkable amount of visibility and “legitimacy” to Beyoncé’s stance of black love. The establishment is, as always, ruthlessly clever. It doesn’t erase or ignore Beyoncé’s political activism. If anything, it takes careful note. It rightfully nominates “Formation” for prestigious, sought-after categories like Song of the Year, safely pitting Beyoncé against similarly prominent artists. It also nominates “Formation” for Best Music Video, a seemingly revolutionary consideration. It fills this race with lesser-known, less-likely to win artists, thereby ensuring Beyoncé’s victory. Predictably, then, she wins for Best Music Video. Predictably, Beyoncé does not claim Song of the Year nor Record of the Year.
In voting Beyoncé to win for Best Music Video, The Grammy’s hides its attempts to depoliticize and neuter “Formation’s” political aims beneath the facade of a hollow accolade. If “Formation” somehow triumphs over other pop megastars, its black politics attain powerful symbolic support from the white mainstream. If it steps over less commercial acts to claim Best Music Video, its political ideals get lost within the other music videos that very few people even bothered to watch. This is an incredible exercise in appeasement. Beyoncé loses. But, most importantly, she also wins. Therefore, Beyoncé’s night cannot truly be considered a snub by the Grammy’s, can it? It’s merely an “annoyance.” In reality, it is disarmament. Beyoncé’s “Formation” win ultimately reinforces the significance of Lemonade’s loss: black culture in its most aggressive expression of self-love and pride cannot truly succeed. It can only continue in its martyrdom. Like Beyoncé herself, it must drown.
