When you’ve been Black for a long time – since birth, usually – you develop an innate reverence for your kinfolk (this is a reference to a Bernie Mac joke, if you know you know). There’s something about Blackness that shines as a beacon of hope and a signal of home, guiding you back to somewhere your body has never been, but your soul has always lived. Interconnectivity and community is woven into our very essence, with our phrases, tones, and even smiles serving as a long-standing conversation with the places we’ve been and faces we’ve seen.
Tank and The Bangas consistently make excellent use of lush instrumentation. The spoken prose is a perfect overlay, the delivery cutting through and dripping in Black gold without sounding forced in the slightest. Warmth radiates from the composition, but in the subtle, supple way the evening breeze brushes a shoulder in late August. Masego’s presence offers another glimpse into what we sound like, contributing to both vocals and saxophone accompaniment.
The entire track is a message to the collective self. We are who we are, which makes us who we are. Blackness doesn’t exist in falsehood, as authenticity is its nature.
Listen to Tank and The Bangas’ February offering “Black Folk” below:
Quotable Lyrics
Black look like a revolution,
Look like a family reunion, in the park,
Black look like it’s a Different World,
Sound like a crawfish boil in New Orleans,
Black folks… Joke around like Martin,
And got paintings from JJ in the living room