Village Voice columnist Greg Tate offers essays and tales of American music and culture, from Be-Bop to Hip-Hop. He examines music, books, newspaper reporting, and more to explore such issues as racism, poverty, sexism, homophobia, and political and economic injustices from a black point of view.
Greg Tate is a music and popular culture critic and journalist whose work has appeared in many publications, including the Village Voice, Vibe, Spin, The Wire, and Downbeat. He is the author of Flyboy 2: The Greg Tate Reader, Flyboy in the Buttermilk: Essays on Contemporary America, and Midnight Lightning: Jimi Hendrix and the Black Experience, and the editor of Everything But the Burden: What White People Are Taking from Black Culture. Tate, via guitar and baton, also leads the Conducted Improvisation ensemble Burnt Sugar The Arkestra Chamber who tour internationally.
Not everything here is perfect and sometime Greg Tate is a smarter rather than clearer writer when unadornment would serve the asubject and the argument better. But reading "Flyboy" you realize you are in the presence of a genius, a voice reaching down from the cosmos unlike any you have ever heard. And so you forgive it when its once-in-a-while too twisted or loud or muffled or sharp. Because when it is quiet, you are better for having heard it, better for your listening and it makes you want to be better too.
Saw him on a Miles documentary and pulled this one off the shelf. Omg I had no ability to appreciate this text as a 20-yo. Just like Miles' 70s albums which the author has me ready to tackle. Eternal
« All that can steady you is the spine of cultural confidence and personal integrity. »
« To be a race-identified race-refugee is to tap-dance on a tightrope, making your precarious existence a question of balance and to whom you concede a mortgage in your mind and body and lien on your soul. »
« The idea that the human brain first began functioning in Europe now appears about as bright as Frankenstein’s monster. »
« Negative gesture can be just as important as positive thrust. »
They should build more statues of critics. This is criticism as art, as music itself. Wish I’d discovered Tate before I began my career but I can see his influence and permission to be devil may care in every piece I’ve done.
god this was such a good read. tate is a fucking MASTER writer he perfectly weaves his regular normal person (very funny and swaggy) voice combined with his academic voice that i could say only rivals the likes of like nobody i guess. unfortunately i am a little bit too young (or ignorant) because i did not know much of the references: most from the 90s. these essays will introduce you to some very good songs, musical artists, and writers. also besides being a little young, i think i am just a little too stupid for some of this. of the pool of people i know follow my goodreads i think KB and Olivia you two are probs the smartest ppl who could rlly appreciate the entirely of this incredible book. no shade everybody else!
Re-read various essays in this collection bc FSG (I think?) just brought back into print this title in light of Tate’s 2021 death. At any rate, so goated Greg was. Unmatched ear for the music of a sentence.
I wish we had something like the Village Voice still and yet it seems we’re entirely undeserving. RIP to such pubs.
Other than the Central Park 5 essay (which, who could blame Tate at the time, but yEESh), this is so, so good and so full of pitch-perfect cultural criticism that is both jocular and genius, appreciative and critical. Rest in Power!
Big props to Farrar, Straus, and Giroux and NetGalley for allowing me to preview an advanced copy of Greg Tate’s powerful collection of essays from the 80s and 90s Flyboy in the Buttermilk: Essays on Contemporary America. I’ve heard of Greg Tate, but I can’t believe I’ve never read anything by him up until now. Reading the three introductions by Questlove, Henry Louis Gates Jr, and Hanif Abdurraqib provided some great context for understanding not only Greg Tate’s interests and subjects for his writing, but also his vast influence on music, popular culture, and writing in general. While the introductions are awesome, they don’t entirely capture the breadth of Tate’s interests captured by the essays in this book. Whether it’s funk, pop music, hip hop, reggae, art, literature, sci-fi, or movies, Tate’s writing clearly and enthusiastically shows his passion for these arts and more importantly, his emphasis on promoting artists uplifts many Black voices that were often silenced or relegated to the underground at the expense of more mainstream pop acts and artists. Tate’s collection is the kind of book that requires some notetaking to follow up on the many different references, albums, songs, and titles he champions, and I’m so appreciative for it. One of my favorite elements of this book is Tate’s unique voice in his writing. I absolutely loved his writing, especially about music. The only music writers/critics I could liken him to are Lester Bangs and Greil Marcus, who are both passionate and emphatic champions and critics of music they like and dislike; however, Tate also has his own unique register, adding elements of funk and hip-hop to his writing that emphasize his own distinct voice in criticism. I noticed that this approach changes somewhat when he writes about literature and politics in the latter sections of the book. However, the first section that focuses primarily on his writings about music is so much fun to read; I can only imagine Tate reading these essays out loud. Furthermore, I was amazed to read phrases and lingo Tate uses in his early 80s essays that are still in use today. I think this speaks to not only Tate’s influence, but also his close ear and understanding of culture. Although this book was originally published in 1992, it’s still completely relevant today. In fact, I was surprised to see how much Tate’s writing about African American literature and history was relevant to my undergraduate studies, which again made me wonder why Tate wasn’t included in any of the anthologies or required reading lists from my professors. Whether it’s discussing the battles between Black leadership in the early 1900s in the quest for either assimilation or equality or the burdens of Black writers and artists to represent culture or to capitalize on the larger market for white audiences, Tate’s writing remains relevant and trenchant, focusing on important considerations for Black culture, artists, writers, and America in general. I double checked my Norton Anthology of African American Literature edited by Gates Jr. just to see if Tate was included in my 1997 edition, but he was not. I hope that Gates Jr. has eventually included Tate in either subsequent editions or other anthologies since I feel like Tate’s approach to many of the canonical texts and arguments from African American literature and history is such a unique, relevant, and engaging voice that challenges readers to question and rethink their understandings of these texts, figures, and events. The book is divided into three sections. Part One focuses on music criticism, Part Two focuses mostly on literary and art criticism, and Part Three focuses on current events and politics, mostly from the late 1980s and early 1990s in New York. My favorite section was the music criticism section, which was also the longest section in the book. This section is where we see not just the breadth of Tate’s interests (Funk, Jazz, Blues, Rock, Hip-Hop, House), but also the depths of these interests that Tate is willing to pursue to further untangle and share with his audience. I loved how much he writes about Miles Davis, especially reevaluating the electric and later stages of Miles’ career, looking at Miles’ role as not just a Black artist, but an American force of culture who reshaped art and popular music by pursuing his own passions and interests. Tate also explores areas in Jazz that fragmented in the 1960s and 70s, examining the kind of schisms that created paths for standard bearers like the Marsalis family and the paths that diverged to other space ways and areas carved out by avant-garde and free jazz artists. It’s an issue about Black art that re-appears throughout Tate’s book in different forms including fine art vs. graffiti, R & B vs. Pop Music (Prince and Michael Jackson), and literature (Amiri Baraka). Tate seems to update DuBois’s notion of the veil but situates it in the context of American popular culture and the cultural marketplace of the latter 20th century, where an artist’s existence is sometimes dependent on an audience. One of Tate’s targets is Michael Jackson, whose most popular albums Thriller and Bad, Tate criticizes for their emptiness and pursuit of mass audiences at the expense of the kind of soulfulness or artistic integrity that are apparent in other Black contemporary artists of Michael’s time. My favorite pieces, though, were focused on Public Enemy, whose music from the late 80s and 90s is such an integral part of my life. Tate’s writing about Public Enemy is so accurate and fun, and he captures the energy and power of the band’s sound and vision and how it helped to shape and redirect the hip-hop scene into something more conceptual rather than commercial. Although Section Three deals with events from NYC in the late 80s and early 90s, I was surprised to see how relevant Tate’s analyses and criticisms are for today. Furthermore, since I was younger and not living in the NYC area at the time, I wasn’t as familiar with the murders of Michael Griffith in Howard Beach or Yusef Hawkins in Bensonhurst, except from the references from PE. Tate critically examines these incidents and contextualizes them along with the Central Park Five injustice to criticize the press, the police, and leadership at all levels for allowing racial violence and intolerance to continue to fester in the city. Even though Tate’s book was originally published nearly 35 years ago, his critiques and observations are still relevant and on point. While I have many annotations throughout the book, the last essay “Love and the Enemy” has a particular quote at its end that surprised me with its relevance and prescience. The essay is powerful in its message of love for and in the African American community, in which Tate calls out white supremacy for fomenting hate among African Americans. He cites both Malcolm X and Bob Marley as calling for love for self rather than the love and desire for the oppressor. For Tate, these power structures enable people to ignore systemic inequalities because they are more concerned individual status. “When reactive rage is the dominant form of our politics, when it takes police or mob violence to galvanize us into reaction, it means that there is an acceptable level of suffering and misery.” I’m not saying this is still true, but I think it’s a powerful quote that should move all people to recognize that the fight and struggle continues today as politics and culture remain reactive rather than accepting or accommodating. This is an incredible and important collection of essays, and I’m so glad that it is being republished. I can only hope that Greg Tate’s voice reaches more eyes and ears as a result of this new edition, and people can learn to appreciate the critical eye and humor in his work. Even though the essays are between 35-45 years old, they are still relevant, prescient, observant, critical, and engaging. Highly recommended!
incredible collection that serves as a philosophy of music (and wider art/culture) criticism for any and all restorative, retributive, indignant, enraged projects undertaken by the marginalized. tate's love of blackness, of black art, and black people is the front-and-center aspect of these essays that cannot be ignored, and the expansive nature of that love is so striking in how attentive it is, but within them is a prism of thought and care which begs to be revitalized in defiance of cis-heteropatriarchal and white supremacist notions of our (in this case, an our of complicated inter-relation if we are the ones cosigned as others) intellect, self-making, and community. his final essay here, on the future of black politics and leadership is literally a must-read, a synthesis of and conclusion brought forth from the work tate undertook as someone who took black people and their ideas and ideals seriously and seriously considered what exactly all the struggling has provided for its new generation to work with. basically a guiding light to how i view music now.
tate also is one of the few critics who is both uncompromising and always pivoting- tate's willingness to speak to and with underground language, vocabularies of funk and hip-hop and geography, while still remaining one of the few black male critics i've read from an era of and flowing out a black nationalist milieu who isn't just giving lip-service to black women, but is always thoughtful about black feminism as a twin consideration in black life. after but some of us are brave's charge against tate's contemporary literary intellectuals, this is comparatively refreshing. better yet, tate manages this as a conscious element of analysis, always considered alongside homophobia and other like intolerance and chauvinism speaking to the sexism of public enemy, for instance, is tate's way of showcasing a weakness in their agitprop. and he specifically goes out of his way to include the perspectives of black women, either in their own words as artists, or through the opinions/smacktalk/wisdom of friends and lovers which demand to be included
Finish date: 05 June 2022 Genre: Essays Rating: B Review: Flyboy in the Buttermilk (ISBN: 9781501136979)
#20BooksOfSummer22 "Flyboy in the Buttermilk" by Greg Tate an American writer, musician and long-time critic for The Village Voice 40 collected essays 1981-1991
For years a writer friend has proselytized the writings of Village Voice cultural critic Greg Tate. Possibly because Tate was as explosively enthusiastic about a then new group De La Soul as my friend was. Its taken me this many years since to ever lay hands on Tate's writing and the wait was worth it, even as I regret dragging my feet. Tate is a superior writer and critic of art and music who crafts some deliciously funny and rich sentences. Reading this had me search books he'd reviewed, lesser name checked black women filmmakers, and Miles Davis' Agharta album. Sorry to've missed you, brother-- but glad to finally be on board.
As a collection of what I think Greg Tate does best (usually music and art criticism, with a bit of straight-up theory talk on the side), I think I might actually prefer Flyboy 2. But this is also worth checking out (if you can find it - it's been out of print for a while now unfortunately), especially for "Yo Hermeneutics!", one of his best cultural/philosophical analysis pieces by way of book review. And the music writing is great, as usual. RIP.
Read this a loooooong time ago. I wish there were more writers like Tate today: a unique stylist who can stretch across and make sense of purt-near all the arts. But I have to remember: we still have Tate!
feel like they could've left that Central Park 5 essay out of the reissue because it really sticks out (derogatory) from this otherwise resplendent, perfect collection
Greg Tate wrote that the Miles Davis Quintet was practicing particle physics. They operated at a higher order of frequency. There was action painting and automatic writing but their achievement may've been greater. It's close to modern poetry--singular voices, abstractions wondrous and strange, defamiliarizing "the standard." They were the epitome of style. Miles tugged his ear and walked away like so what. Teenager Tony Williams grew a mustache. Herbie Hancock channels the hants of Debussy and Ravel. Shorter came in from Morocco. Tate's essays on "Electric Miles" and George Clinton allowed me to listen through the voodoo polylayers and love the mess.
Tate was one of the first Black mainstream critics (based over in the Village Voice in NYC) and was one of the first to legitimize hip hop as being worthy of artistic criticism; in case you weren't aware what a big deal he was, the introductions by Henry Gates and Hanif Abdurraqib will hopefully help put him further in context. Honestly, we get a great selection of his essays and criticism, and you can see why he was so fundamental to so many people. Republishing this summer, and worth a read when it comes out again.
In New York at the Savoy a white woman asks me don't I think Sunny is just like Bob Marley. I'm feeling Irie so I am cool.
"This is different music from a different world."
"Yes, but don't you think he could get on MTV with this stuff? Do you watch MTV?"
"Try not to."
"Why is that?"
"Why? Because it's racist. There's never any black acts on it. Shit, Michael Jackson can't even get on MTV."
"Yes, but this is so different from mainstream black pop. I think young white suburban kids could really get into it. I mean, don't you think he could be like Marley?"
"I don't think we know yet what Sunny's impact is going to be."
"Oh, but I think I do! I think young white kids are really going to get into this stuff. You know, you should really try to be more visionary in your thinking."
I want to tell her I don't give a fuck if young white kids get into Sunny Adé but she whirls around and is gone. And so there, once again, stands one more black man stewing over what some white person thinks."
Early 90s anthology of author's articles, columns, etc. So far, seems like man is poised perfectly to tell you about some stuff you don't know regarding African American music in the early '80s. Author drinks free on me for telling it like it was RE: art ghetto-ization of avant-garde jazz (two beers for stumping for Agharta when jazz guys were politely looking the other way when it walked into the room), African Americans' early reactions to contemporary African music, the possibility of mainstream rock music made by black people, and shit-talking with George Clinton. Dude won't shut the hell up about Jimi Hendrix, but maybe dudes needed to be talking about Jimi Hendrix in 1982,'3,'4 & '5. If so, he's got it covered. Behind it all are the nascent rumblings of a hip-hop takeover and I'm doing a pee-pee dance waiting for that shit to break.
Wow! An amazing reissue of Greg Tate's collection of essays where the Flyboy is used to interrogate how mainstream culture consumes Blackness (as style or exoticism) while erasing its political and historical contexts. Tate was a titan and reading this book takes me back to my college years in NYC, consuming his criticism weekly in the Village Voice. An introduction by my latest fave, Hanif Abdurraqib, makes it seem like a passing of the guard. Really enjoyed this one.
Thanks NetGalley & Farrar, Straus and Giroux for the advanced reading copy. All opinions are my own.
I thought this was a great read. It achieved that rare feat of not only informing me but it also revealed to me artists, such as Basquiat, who, to my everlasting disgrace, I had only a scant knowledge of. It has also led me in the direction of new reading. Any book that can achieve these feats not only deserves the rarity of 5 stars from me but also warrants investigation by you.