call & response

“To really sustain creative work, one must be inwardly motivated.  The inner impulse that compels one is totally necessary” – bell hooks, 1994

The success of popular female recording artists is generally based upon physical beauty and media accounts that document their musical abilities.  The generalizations from recording industry executives to music journalists regarding the women artists’ appearances and talents are usually male constructed and often portray these performers as exceptionally talented eye candy.  These limitations manage to restrict women performers from becoming credible artists as opposed to being voyeuristic objects.  In particular, these constructions hinder Black female singers, songwriters, and musicians from being acknowledged as multi-talented artists with substance beyond their voices and gyrating body movements.

This essay analyzes how the musical careers of three different Black female singers/songwriters elude male-centered conventions relating to Black female recording artists to perform what Patricia Hill-Collins labels as “transgressing sexual borders” (Black Sexual Politics, 2004).  In addition to writing and performing, these Black women have gained notoriety for their abilities to play musical instruments.  Tracy Chapman, Me’shell Ndegeocello, and Alicia Keys are three Black feminist representations that generate individual discourses surrounding how Black females autonomously create their musical visions and careers according to musical training, self-involvement in composing and songwriting, and upholding personal objectives for their musicianship.

            This analysis of Black female singers, songwriters, and musicians alters the examinations that associate women of color as sole creators and producers rather than being submissive sexual objects.  The womens’ independent musical politics renegotiates what Hill-Collins says is “appropriate feminine demeanor” against the conventions of musical composition and performance (Black Sexual Politics, 2004).  The analysis includes brief biographical accounts of Chapman, Ndegeocello, and Keys’ life that includes chronologies of signature compositions.  In viewing the women artists as involved, focused, and prolific individuals who take active roles in their productions, Black feminist scholars bell hooks, Patricia Hill-Collins, and the late Audre Lorde will guide my analysis of “Black feminism” as means of expressing a consciousness of problems that persists in constructing Black female imagery in the recording industry.  These women use “Black feminism” to redefine sexual categories and stigmas placed on them regarding their sexuality and physical allure.  I hope for audiences to understand “Black feminism” in this body of work to demonstrate how Black female composers can “formulate and rearticulate the distinctive, self-defined standpoint of African American women by maintaining autonomy in constructions of their images as artistically centered as opposed to being industry constructed” (Hill-Collins, 2001).

Tracy Chapman:  Changing Faces with No Face

            Popular music in the late 1980s presented new images of Black female artists in the music video age.  Recording artists such as Janet Jackson and Whitney Houston becomes the new constructions of female artists with vocals, stylish costumes, over the top hair styles, and choreographed dance steps that are supported by male songwriters and producers.  Folk /pop artist Tracy Chapman emerges and reconstructs the image of an artist isolated from the sexual imagery associated with music video vixens.  Commonly draped in turtlenecks, sweaters, and blue jeans with her trademark dreadlocks, Tracy Chapman gains popularity for her social and political commentaries fused with the light sounds of folk music to carve her niche.  Chapman embodies a “Black feminist” that centers her music around messages that details social injustice.

            Even in her childhood and exposure to music, Chapman revitalizes the spirit of folk music and protest songs, genres rarely produced by women of color.  Chapman was born in Cleveland, Ohio on March 30, 1964 in a single parent home and describes herself as “always being musical” (Erlewine, 2006; Tavis Smiley, 2006; Wilkins, 1997).  She learns to play the clarinet, ukulele, organ, and percussion.  By age eight, Chapman embraces the acoustic guitar as her main instrument and begins to write songs.  Her musical tastes were mostly soul and gospel artists Marvin Gaye, Aretha Franklin, Gladys Knight, and Mahalia Jackson.  After being awarded a scholarship to attend an Episcopalian prep school in Connecticut, Chapman immerses into folk artists and singer/songwriters of the 1960s and 1970s, citing Joni Mitchell, Bob Dylan, and Neil Young as her major influences (Wilkins, 1997).

Chapman’s acknowledgement of diverse musical influences encourages her to take an active interest in music as a songwriter because of a lack of Black folk songwriters and musicians.  Not to mention that folk music would become a bigger marketing challenge in music for a Black female since rap music and dance pop saturated Black music and music videos.  Chapman’s brand of folk music follows what Audre Lorde says is “sharpening self-definition by exposing the Self into work and struggle with those whom we define as different from ourselves, although sharing the same goals” (Sister Outsider, 1984).  Chapman would emerge as a talented folk/pop vocalist and guitarist during the synthesizer-driven and video-generated pop music to create a new success profile for Black female recording artists.

            While studying anthropology and African studies at Tufts University in Massachusetts, Chapman becomes known by her emotional guitar playing and honest messages.  Chapman’s confessional lyrics and acoustic sound is an alternative sound that is counter to male stylized vocal performances by minimalist female pop artists (Erlewine, 2006; Wilkins, 1997).  Elektra Records signs Chapman to a recording contract in 1987, believing that Chapman’s style of music grants her the image of a defiant pop artist with a genre that Black recording artists rarely perform.  Rolling Stone writer Fred Goodman believes that Chapman is the “rarest of artists, one whose lyrics and musical vision transcends the normal boundaries of categories and intent.  Her artistic success is based upon a willingness to take chances rather than on having a comfortable style” (“Crossroads,” 1989).  Stephen Thomas Erlewine says that Chapman “restores the singer/songwriters of confessional 1970s folk music” (All Music Guide, 2006).  Tracy Chapman exemplifies a “Black feminist” that embraces a musical genre unintended for her while creating space for her individual brand of folk and political ideologies.

            Chapman makes her mark as a “Black feminist” as an artist who revisits her influences by discussing her political views while isolating herself from consistent stereotypical images of female artists.  Audre Lorde considers this willingness for a Black feminist voice to “interrupt the imposed silence about any area of our lives as a tool for separation and powerlessness” (Trapasso, 2006). As a result of her different brand of music, appearance, and performance, Chapman’s self-titled debut album was released in 1988 with great reviews.  Chapman was labeled “a throwback to protest music unlike anything else on the radio at the time” (Wilkins, 1997).  Her first single and Top Ten pop hit, “Fast Car,” discusses poverty, racial violence, domestic abuse, police indifference, and obsessive love (Erlewine, 2006).  The music video even features Chapman with a closeup headshot in a dark room.  Another single, “Talkin’ Bout a Revolution,” references Civil Rights and the struggle for equality in the form of “blending folk references with the talk of politics today” (Evans, 2006).  Chapman’s ability to embody “Black feminism” allows her to rely on her personal views of society to reflect in her lyricism and choice of music to perform.  Chapman’s performance and musical tastes allows her to:

“take elements and themes of Black woman’s culture and traditions and infuse them with new meaning to rearticulate a consciousness of Black feminist thought that already exists.  More important, this rearticulated consciousness gives African American women another tool of resistance to all forms of their subordination” (Hill-Collins, 2001).

Chapman’s success in majority White audiences allows her to defy intentionally being marketed to Black audiences.

Chapman’s music manages to make a presence in pop music audiences while Black radio and music formats abandon Chapman’s presence in pop music.  This is partly because Chapman was not solely marketed to Black audiences, who instead mostly consumed heavily rotated Black dance pop artists and burgeoning rap music acts.  Chapman’s music found a presence mostly on mainstream video and radio playlists because of Chapman’s resistance to perform genres of music mostly consumed by Black audiences.  Chapman says, “I don’t think about creating hits.  As an artist, you must remain true to your artistic development and not consider any commercial potential” (Divastation, 2006).  Chapman is able to acquire such success outside of her own identical group because of mainstream popular music being able to identify her sound as an innovative voice performing folk music.  Chapman would eventually garner three Grammy Awards (including “Best New Artist”) and sell over 10 million copies.  Chapman’s massive success in mainstream audiences over Black audiences demonstrates “African American women being neither passive victims of nor willing accomplices to their own domination” (Hill-Collins, 2001).  Chapman as a “Black feminist” does not allow her music and style to be pigeonholed to demographics that actually resemble her Blackness but instead embraces an audience that identifies with her sound and message.

After the massive success of her debut album, Chapman continues to record albums without the critical praise of her signature piece but embarks on constant humanitarian efforts to advocate for social change.  Subsequent albums such as Crossroads (1989), Matters of the Heart (1991) and New Beginning (1995) continues Chapman’s emphasis on folk/pop music and social commentary but was eluded by a lack of public interest in part to an increased female presence in rap music and soul artists beginning to saturate the market.  Chapman manages to win a Grammy Award for another Top Ten single, “Give Me One Reason,”  as a “quiet, successful comeback that most observers had already consigns to cult status” (Erlewine, 2006).  Instead, Chapman supports numerous social causes such as human rights, racial equality, and economic injustice, which suggests why Chapman’s success has translated among mainstream audiences.  Lorde states, “In our own work and our loving, we must recognize that difference is a reason for celebration and growth, rather than a reason for destruction” (Tate, 1983).  Tracy Chapman personifies the first idea of “Black feminism” in her ability to construct powerful, conscious songs with sparse folk arrangements unlike any stylized or highly sexualized images of Black womanhood.

Me’shell Ndegeocello:  Finding Space in No Space

            Me’shell Ndgeocello is a very prolific singer/songwriter/musician who refuses to be confined to any one genre of music.  Ndgeocello is often cited as “the foremother of neo-soul that does not neatly fit into usual Black music categories” (Solomon, 2002).  This attributes to Ndegeocello’s music fusing a hybrid of sound and nontraditional subjects that are rarely discussed in her lyrics (Solomon, 2002).  Ndegeocello’s embodiment of “Black feminism” allows her to perform as a musician and vocalist that blurs traditional gender and creative constructions of what subjects should be addressed in music as well as what instruments female artists can and should play.

            Ndegocello receives massive praise for her ability to uphold a “free ranging intelligence that encompasses many selves” (Walker, 1997).  She was born Michelle Johnson in 1969 in Germany to a religious mother and military father, who also is a jazz saxophonist (Divastation, 2006; Frazier, 2002).  As a teen, Ndegeocello relocates to Washington, D.C. and quickly realizes that music would be her passion.  She enters a predominately male but accredited jazz program at the Duke Ellington School of the Arts and begins to challenge the social constructions of a woman’s ability to multi task as a musician and composer (Divastation, 2006; Frazier, 2002).  Ndgeocello would take up guitar, drums, piano, and keyboard but would take interest in the bass guitar.  Upon taking on the Swahili name Ndegeocello that also means “free like a bird,” she recognizes the bass guitar as a talent rarely occupied by Black female performers.  Patricia Hill-Collins believes, “Black women routinely inherit social scripts of marginalized and/or subordinate femininities,” (Black Sexual Politics, 2004).  Ndegeocello says the bass guitar is “my heart because of its subtle, underrated, and sexual tendencies” (Stoute, 1996).  For Ndegeocello, her love for the bass guitar symbolizes what bell hooks says is “reclaiming the female body as the site of power and possibility” (Outlaw Culture, 1994).  Ndegeocello’s ability to play numerous instruments (specifically the bass guitar) mainly deviates from the conventions of women as major multi-talented musicians.  Ndegeocello would continue to endure this prejudice throughout her musical career while maintaining assertiveness and self-respect for her talent.

            Ndegeocello embarks on demonstrating her musical talent by challenging the male-dominated space of being an extremely involved artist.  While studying at the predominately Black institution Howard University in Washington, D.C., she auditions for Black rock band Living Color but turns down an offer to join.  Ndegeocello states, “The session was good, but I was meant to be a songwriter” (Stoute, 1996).  She turns down another offer to record for superstar Prince’s Paisley Park label to avoid “sounding like her idol” (Frazier, 2002; Flanagan, 1999).  She holds short stints as the bass player for local D.C. area bands such as Women in Love and the influential go-go outfit Rare Essence.  As a “Black feminist,” Ndegeocello holds pride in her willingness to not conform to other artists’ standards because of her musical autonomy as a composer and performer.  Ndegeocello is unwilling to seek out musical opportunities through the agency of male vision and domination.  Lorde says that “Black feminism recognizes that power as well as primary oppressions comes as a result of Blackness and womanness which are inseparable struggles on both fronts” (Kulii, 2006).

            The response to Ndegeocello’s musical vision would seek to change the face of women performers in music.  After an improvised solo performance with a bass guitar, keyboard, and drum machine, Ndegeocello becomes the first female artist signed to pop star Madonna’s label Maverick Records (Divastation, 2006; Frazier, 2002).  She is acknowledged for her poetic lyrics performed through her signature rap/vocal style with sporting a bald hairstyle unlike female performers (Solomon, 2002; Divastation, 2006).  Her 1993 debut, Plantation Lullabies, holds critical and creative praises for blurring rock, funk, and hip hop also solely produced and written by Ndegeocello.  Songs such as “Step Into the Projects,” “If That’s Your Boyfriend (He Wasn’t Last Night),” and “Soul on Ice” reflect racism, sexism, politics, homophobia, corruption, and spirituality.  These subjects and musical textures that defines Ndegeocello’s musical identity models bell hooks’ idea of “choosing a healthy model of female agency and self-actualization in choosing love” (Salvation, 2001).  The album is praised as a “unique musical perspective with fusions of genres dominated by males.  She stretches the definitions of the Black R&B artist to funky, new heights” (Greaves, 1996).  Another reviewer labels Ndegeocello as “a rock ‘n soul princess that defies the in your face challenge to the R&B glam chick image” (Frazier, 2002).  Ndegeocello embarks on her music to create artistic and gender expansiveness but would begin to endure censorship and industry isolation in attempts to become a commercially acceptable female act.

            As a “Black feminist,” Ndegeocello purposely relies on being a musical rebel rather than succumbing to trends and conventions.  Upon receiving rave reviews for Plantation Lullabies and becoming the first woman to grace the cover of Bass Guitar magazine as “the Female Bassist of the Year in 1995,” Ndegeocello advocates for musicians and songwriters to broaden their musical interests by exploring the infinite possibilities in music rather than to use it as a commodity.  Ndegocello questions, “Where’s all the range among us?  Black folks’ talent is being used for product placement ads rather than for bringing people to a space where they can find the glow inside themselves” (Bendele, 2002).  Ndegeocello’s willingness to challenge her own artistry by embracing various musical forms is represented through subsequent releases.  Her sophomore album Peace Beyond Passion (1996) is considered “one of the most intensely personal records on ‘96” with religious mythology and interpretations of The Bible as the overlapping subject matter on the album (Nazareth, 1996).  Bitter (1999) discusses the tumultuous relationship of a lesbian relationship with “Album of the Year” honors by Vibe and Newsweek magazines (Frazier, 2002).  Cookie:  The Anthropological Mixtape (2002) fuses hip hop, soul, go-go, funk, jazz, poetry, and rock and roll (Bendele, 2002).  Comfort Woman (2004) is a “love letter” to her lover while Dance of the Infidels (2005) solely rest on the instrumental and improvisation of jazz music (Lee, 2004).  In Ndegeocello’s range of music, she embodies “Black feminism” based on her “brazenly unapologetic resurrection of music dependent upon equal parts talent and showspersonship as a new school crossover sista” (Divastation, 2006; Greaves, 1996).

            Ndegeocello has met some resistance in her artistry and attempts to balance the various musical styles and subjects in her compositions.  Since Ndegeocello’s music takes on embracing numerous genres, her musical appreciation does not allow her to be categorized or confined to a specific genre.  The inability to place Ndegeocello’s music is a hard sell because of the market’s inability to classify her work.  Ndegeocello says:

“There are few formats for Black artists and musicians than there are to accommodate incremental distinctions in White pop.  There is not a whole lot of room for musicians to develop their craft before they are shoved into the designated pipe and shot at the designated chart.  Some of the best music being made right now is being made by musicians who do not fit into any particular brand niche or market.  These performers are free to follow music where it leads.  They have the luxury to work on being good rather than fitting in” (Flanagan, 1996).

As a “kaleidoscopic gender bender,” her androgynous look combined with her intensive bass playing is a threat to the music industry since she is unlike conventional pop artists (Cooper, 1996).  One of Ndegeocello’s singles, “Leviticus:  Faggot” was pulled from numerous radio and video programs after airing once for its graphic depictions of a heterosexual man secretly living the life of a homosexual man.  MTV even nominated the video during the network’s annual Video Music Awards with Ndegeocello claiming that she never saw it air (Greaves, 1996; Nazareth, 1996).  The use of the word “faggot” was criticized heavily by homosexual communities as well as being derogatory and demeaning (Flanagan, 1996).   A Black, bald, and lesbian bass player, Ndegeocello follows what Hill-Collins says is, “A woman in a westernized culture not equaling men because of hair texture recreating femininity in the context of a new color-blind racism” (Black Sexual Politics, 2004).  Ndegeocello constantly battle these claims by continuing to write, produce, and perform her material regardless of commercial acceptance.  Lorde says in response to similar cases,

“Black writers of whatever quality, who step outside of the pail of what Black writers are supposed to write about or what Black writers are supposed to be are condemned to silence in Black literacy circles that are as total and destructive as any imposed by racism” (Tate, 1983).

            Me’shell Ndegeocello personifies being a “Black feminist” for her willingness to persist in the recording industry without being placed in specific categories.  The music industry for Ndegeocello serves as a “powerful mean of policing the sexual arena” (hooks, 2001).  Ndegeocello uses her music and performance as agency to create music that she enjoys and feels that she can openly express her views and ideas.  Ndegeocello has been featured on over 15 soundtracks and has collaborated with numerous artists that include Madonna, Roy Hargrove, Prince, Santana, Vanessa Williams, the Indigo Girls, John Cougar Mellancamp, Chaka Khan, Sarah McLaughlin, Alanis Morrisette, and The Rolling Stones.  Ndegeocello is often judged as a lesbian as opposed to being a brilliant musician and composer.  Ndegeocello exemplifies what Hill-Collins says is “deviant Black female sexuality that defeminizes Black women,” (Black Sexual Politics, 2004).  This suggests that Ndegeocello’s identification as a lesbian bass player eliminates her from performing as a status quo female with physical allure and decorum.  Ndegeocello rebuts this claim by stating,

“I struggle to play the bass correctly, and all people care about is whether I’m gay or this or that, none of which has anything to do with music.  I’m totally taken out of context.  I’m in this business where you can’t be yourself.  You have to be made up” (Flanagan, 1996).

Alicia Keys:  Beauty’s Only Skin Deep

Singer, songwriter, and pianist Alicia Keys emerges as a current phenomenon in popular music for her ability to create lush and melodic fusions of classical, soul, pop, and hip hop sounds.  Keys is regarded as a signature talent reminiscent of Black vocalists and pianists such as Patrice Rushen and Roberta Flack.  Regardless of her physical beauty and humble demeanor, Keys emerges as the latest “Black feminist” that relies on constructing her own musical agenda and beauty absent of her highly publicized youth and music industry guidance from label executives.

Linda Seida says that “wisdom and experience transcends Alicia Keys’ youth” (All Music Guide, 2006).  Perhaps this relates to Keys’ multi racial immersion into musical training and interests.  The daughter of a White mother and African American father, Keys was born Alicia Augello Cook on January 25, 1981 in the rough “Hell’s Kitchen” section of Manhattan, New York (Denziel, 2003; Samuels, 2001).  As a child, Keys is recognized as a musical prodigy with extensive training in ballet, classical piano, and voice.  Keys is intrigued by diverse musical tastes that includes Prince, Stevie Wonder, Donny Hathaway, Mary J. Blige, Chopin, Beethoven, and the Notorious B.I.G.  Keys’ interest in music allows her to find inspiration in various artists rather than one specific genre of music.  Christopher John Farley calls Keys “a child of hip hop who is the product of the Suzuki method” (Time, 2005).  Keys states, “My taste, musical style is so old school, so 60s and 70s.  When I sit down to compose and play, it’s always an old school flava that comes through whether I’m going for that or not” (Samuels, 2003).  Keys manages to incorporate numerous influences to create “Black feminism” that allows her youth to determine her musical abilities.

Keys’ education further drives her musical talents and objectives.  At age 14, Keys begins to write songs and compose her own music.  Keys enrolls into the Professional Performing Arts School in Manhattan only to graduate as the valedictorian at age 16 (Denziel, 2003; Seida, 2006).  Keys briefly enters Columbia University but leaves to pursue her career in music.  Keys lands a recording deal with Columbia Records but is confronted with pressure and reservations from the label to allow a young prodigy to take control of her debut project.  Keys exemplifies taking a stance against powerful music hierarchies to define her potential and credibility to produce music of substance and focus.

Keys embodies “Black feminism” for her ability to stand up against a recording industry hierarchy to encourage her own vision to define her talent.  The record label attempts to market her and construct an image that she does not want.  Columbia Records supports Keys to become a conventional pop vocalist with sequined gowns, exposed cleavage, and high heels.  The label even encourages Keys to abandon her piano and intentions to become a songwriter and producer.  Keys says the label wants to mold her into another “Mariah or Whitney” clone (Samuels, 2001).  This resistance from Keys symbolizes what Audre Lorde says is a “a refusal to be delineated by male establishment modes of femininity” (Tate, 1983).  Keys leaves Columbia Records because of what bell hooks describes as “courageously claiming a right to personal integrity and refusal to don a false sense of self for anyone” (2001).  Keys contends that she wants to be assertive in constructing her own intentions and motive in the music business outside of sex and being attractive to the male gaze.  Keys states,

“People are into looks, but I don’t have to play into that.  I’m not about showcasing myself like that.  I’m not wearing booty shorts, low cut blouses, or see-through dresses for anybody.  The music’s all I’m selling” (Samuels, 2003).

“Black feminism” is displayed in part to Keys’ demanding self-esteem and willingness to define her own image based on her musical abilities.

Keys displays a music first work ethic over glamour and beauty.  After leaving Columbia Records, she signs another deal with Arista Records under influential mogul Clive Davis, only to later transfer to J. Records under Davis after he leaves his post at Arista.  Davis believes of Keys as a self sufficient individual by stating,

“She is not an artist that can be pigeonholed, so people expect her to create new paths rather than trying to fit into today’s scene.  She is the ultimate artist – she writes, produces, performs, and arranges” (Hall, 2003).

Keys’ 2001 debut, Songs in ‘A’ Minor, is a demonstration of that freedom.  Boosted off of the #1 pop hit “Fallin’” and the Top Ten “A Woman’s Worth,” the album debuts at #1, sells over 10 million copies, and earns Keys five Grammy Awards (Hall, 2003).  Stephen Thomas Erlewine says,

“Keys has style to spare – elegant, sexy style accentuated by how she has never oversang, giving the music more of a richer feel making the album a startling, assured, successful debut that deserve immediate acclaim” (All Music Guide, 2001).

Usually draped in leather jumpsuits, do-rags, and boots with her hair in cornrows, Keys develops her signature style in part to her status as an isolated case in female recording artists.  Keys is cited in post-album popular music because of her ability to play an instrument, compose for herself as well as others, and her appreciation of music since few young artists actually play instruments.  Farley says,

“Keys comes at a time when youthful musicianship is so rare.  She is a work in progress as a songwriter, a refreshing contrast to many twentysomething performers who are churned out as depressingly artificially finished products” (Time, 2005).

Keys is a break from the pop artists as studio-constructed and industry formulated acts to showcase her expansive musicality.

Keys continues as a “Black feminist” in her attempt to maintain control of her art.  Davis says of Keys, “Alicia sets the pace for herself.  She tells us when she’s ready.  We’re very excited to see the build up of that adrenaline and her creativity at work” (Hall, 2003).  Keys’ work ethic is commanding and centered on her ability to mass produced music.  In addition to solely producing and composing her own material, Keys works as a producer and songwriter for numerous artists such as Nas, Usher, Christina Aguilera, Eve, and Angie Stone.  Her sophomore album, The Diary of Alicia Keys, sells over five million copies and earns four additional Grammy Awards.  With songs such as “You Don’t Know My Name,” “If I Ain’t Got You,” “Diary,” and “Karma,” Keys continues to blur lines of classical, soul, hip hop, pop, and jazz to create her signature hybrid of musical style.  Stephen Thomas Erlewine says The Diary of Alicia Keys  is,

“a well constructed production that leads the movement of ambitious yet classicist new singers/songwriters.  Keys upholds crafty complex musicality, particularly in how Keys blurs the lines between classical, soul, modern rhythms, jazz, pop melodies, and singer/songwriter sensibilities” (All Music Guide, 2003).

Keys emerges as a “Black feminist” that is autonomous in defining her own identity to her label as well as incorporating her musical taste into her work regardless of her allure and physical beauty.

“Black feminism” through singers/songwriters/musicians allows for musical education, taste, and instrument choices to define a new sexual autonomy for women outside of being visually and physically stimulating.  As indicated with Tracy Chapman, Me’shell Ndegeocello, and Alicia Keys, each female identifies their sexuality as a Black female in numerous ways.  In one example, women such as Chapman can be socially aware of their ideas and attempt to use a nontraditional style of music to address her ideas.  Ndegeocello, perhaps, does not intend to create a specific niche to classify her work.  She would much rather create a spontaneous nature for her ideas and prefer to create exactly what she feels like playing.  As for Keys, beauty and youth does not always equate with the power to define success, but rather to also consider one’s interest in their work as grounds to create new music built from inspiration and appreciation.  All of these ideas and experiences create “Black feminism’ that highlight the diverse viewpoints of African American women with one common objective – to create music solely based on one’s creative autonomy without the agency of male influences and industry-related influences.