Don’t Fuck With Me Fellas!
I wasn’t going to respond, but I had to. For no other reason than at this point it’s personal. If I paid attention to all the negative stuff floating about the Internet on me, I’d be consumed and unlike a lot of my pundits, I have a life. In this case, I’ve decided to make an exception. Truth is, Greg Thomas is simply mad because I cussed him out for disrespecting me on my Facebook page over a year ago. His desire to discredit me and #BAM is merely an attempt for him to get me back for hurting his feelings online.
Whatchu Know’ Bout Me?
He, like so many others, made the assertion that my post entitled On Sanctified Pussy…. came from an angry place, just as he assumed where my “Why The J-Word Isn’t Cool Anymore” came from.
Let me say this so that y’all hear: You Don’t Know Me!
You only know my Internet persona and my career as a musician. You’ve never hung out with me for an extended period of time, I have never confided in you about my personal life, you’ve never been to my house, I’ve never been to yours. You Don’t Know Me!
I don’t have a problem with people who disagree, I do have a problem with people saying shit about me personally that isn’t true and making childish attacks. There’s a block/delete option for a reason and I intend to use it.
For one last time, I am not angry because I’m divorced and I’m not angry because of the way things went down with my former record label. I made the choice to leave both and they were two of the best, most liberating decisions I’ve ever made, sorry. No bitterness here. I’m just serious about what I believe and sometimes that means saying it strongly. Don’t hate because you’re a Mama’s boy or your wife got you pussy whipped. I speaks, sometimes softly, loudly or not at all, but whichever way it is I do it all the way.
It seems a lot of people these days have a hard time making the distinction between anger and passion. Don’t think I’m this choir-boy traditionalist the media made me out to be in the early ‘90s. That’s an image I fought to destroy for years. My first attempt was in 1998 on a piece in DownBeat magazine called, “Sex, Threads and J***.” It was all about how much I loved women, why cats should wear finer clothes and that the music formerly known as j*** should be sexier and more provocative. Many of my colleagues thought I had lost my mind for saying what I did in the article, even though the topics addressed in the article are standard fare for dressing room conversation amongst The Cats. Yeah, I’m crazy just because I have the balls to say what we all know to be true. The same thing I’m being vilified on the Internet for today.
You Talkin’ Dat Smack
I’ve been a shit-talker for years. Cats who I’ve opened up around know that. And when I say “shit-talker,” I don’t mean I’m full of shit. “Talking shit” as it pertains to New Orleans means someone is writing rather large checks with their words. We also say “talkin’ dat ying-yang,” “talking smack,” or “talkin’ dat smack.” “Talking smack” is the dude of the most diminutive stature saying he’s gonna whip everybody’s ass on the block. Now the question is: Can he back it up?
As we also say in NOLA, “Don’t let your mouth write a check your ass can’t cash.” So, yes, I talk a lot of shit but I can back it up, on or off the bandstand, with or without words.
Don’t Paint Me With Your Linear Brush.
Amongst musicians, I’m as notorious for my blunt critiques of the world as I am my shyness. Don’t paint me with your linear brush. There’s no “either/or” in life. I am a dynamic man with range. From the profound to the profane, I say it all. So don’t get it twisted because you met me and I was a total gentleman or a total dick, I am both and everything in between. It all depends on the context.
My People Are Destroyed For A Lack Of Knowledge
Just because my ancestors accepted something doesn’t mean I have to. That’s called evolution. As I said in the post that kicked this off, “With all due respect to the masters, they were victims of a colonialist mentality. Blacks have been conditioned for centuries to be grateful for whatever crumbs thrown to them. As a postmodern musician, it’s my duty to do better than my predecessors. To question, reexamine and redefine what it is that we do. They accepted it because they had to. Because my ancestors opened the door for me, I don’t have to accept it.
Louis bowed and scraped so Miles could turn his back. It’s called evolution.”
Jazz Is Dead
The j-word is dead. It died in 1959. Those who celebrate it are worshipping a zombie.
Doubting Uncle Thomases
I’ve heard a lot of people say they disagree with me or they don’t agree with everything I’ve said, which is cool, but no one can really say what they disagree with. What they typically do is take one thing I’ve said out of context and completely distort it. No one has been able to make a cogent argument against what I’ve said. Why? Because I’m not “telling the truth as I see it,” I’m telling the truth. I am not expressing a viewpoint or taking a position, it’s the truth. I haven’t posted a lie yet.
It’s just like my associate Dezron Douglas who came to the #BAM conference and decided to make a stink about the fleur-de-lis on the #BAM t-shirt. Really? We talk about all this stuff and you’re worried about an emblem? Or Willard Jenkins who keeps saying I disagree with Nicholas saying “they” took the music away, we gave it away. I never put full onus on our oppressors. In my piece I say, “Jazz musicians have accepted the idea that it’s OK to be poor,” ”Jazz is a label that was forced upon the musicians. The musicians should’ve never accepted that idea.” “Chicken George” was a wise-old dude, but he was a victim of a colonialist mentality. It’s up to us younger folk to adopt a new way of thinking and the first place to start is a new name for this music. I also say that it’s ultimately our responsibility to change the status-quo, “Some people may say we are defined by our limitations. I don’t believe in limitations, but yes, if you believe you are limited that will define you.”
We were complicit in the slavery of our music just like our brothers and sisters in Africa assisted in the procuring of slaves during the Middle Passage. The “sell-out” is always key in slavery. No matter what was done to us, I ultimately blame us and it’s why I’ve started the #BAM movement.
I’m not just critiquing with words like Uncle Thomas, Willard Jenkins and Dezron Douglas; I’ve started a movement that has gained international momentum. It’s real easy for you to sit at a keyboard or yap your mouths about why I’m wrong or knit-pick about what I could do better, but I’m changing the way people think about this music.
None of y’all can make that claim!
Let’s be honest, those who hate on #BAM do so because they didn’t think of it first!
People Can’t Read
I’ve said this countless amounts of times, but no matter how much I repeat myself, some of you just don’t get it. Like I said in the piece, “Jazz ain’t music, it’s marketing, and bad marketing at that. It has never been, nor will it ever be, music.” I also said in the follow-up, “I am not dissing an art form. I am dissing the name, Jazz.” I was real clear, so why is it that Uncle Thomas says, “[Payton claims] that a form in which a plethora of musicians played, a host of fans listened to, and buckets of ink were typed in periodicals devoted to the music, was virtually or symbolically or actually dead after 1959, is obviously inaccurate. But since it’s a provocative statement that elicits discussion, I’ll take it with a grain of salt.” I never said the art form was dead, just the name. On the basis of your lack of understanding very basic things that I’ve said, I take what you say for a grain of salt, as we NOLA folks say.
I Don’t Play That Jizzle Ass Music!
As Saxophonist/Composer Loren Schoenberg said early on when my dissenters were coming at me, “Most reactions I’ve read delve into personal biography about how much jazz means to them, and how could it be dead if they’re not…ad nauseum. . . I found your piece thought-provoking and honest and it seems that most people’s problems with it reveal their lack of intellectual and creative curiosity.”
I would say, most certainly, Greg Thomas’ piece falls in this category.
Whoot, There It Is!
J***, It Up
As I said at the Inaugural #BAM Conference in New York City, I’m not trying to create converts. There are certainly things that deserve the j-word moniker. You keep “J***in’ It Up, Uncle Thomas. You most certainly deserve to be in that category. #BAM ain’t for everyone.
J*** Hands!!
Racists, corny Ofays and Niggas, House & Field Niggers and just stupid people, period, should stick with the j-word, it’s where you belong!
#BAM
- Nicholas Payton aka The Creator of #BAM aka The Savior of Archaic Pop
