Take The Time
This project documents the sound of protest in Birmingham in the years 2020-21. During the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, the murder of George Floyd and others at the hands of police sparked a level of social unrest that I had never seen before. I thought "At least people are finally doing something. We can change things with this momentum. Now is the time." I had already been involved in activism, but now I started going to every protest I could. Every event had to do with holding institutions accountable, whether they be the police department, utility companies, state regulatory agencies, or elected officials. There was, and still is, rampant governmental corruption, unchecked industrial pollution, entrenched systemic racism, and pervasive capitalist exploitation of people and the earth itself. All these issues intersect to shape our reality while most people just passively watch everything get worse. But so many of us couldn't remain complacent any longer.
It helps to have a role in a large group. I found a role in drumming at protests, usually on plastic buckets that a friend and I would bring and share with people. Drumming in unison with the protest chants felt like the truest application of what I'd learned in the school band as a teenager. I had trained as a drummer in the marching band, a musical form that comes directly from military tradition. It was hard discipline requiring constant rehearsal and marching outside in the blazing sun, but the feeling of purpose in performing as part of a group in the open air was undeniable. It dawned on me while drumming in protests that now I had become an actual warrior. It resonated deeply to use music in this way...to amplify a collective social need. In marching band, we had played at football games which were mock battles. But now we were in real confrontations with real opponents: such as a militarized police force who saw us as a threat. We protested peacefully...but inevitably we were always drumming and shouting in the face of the meanest form of authority in this country. We became sonic warriors. Marching and thundering through the streets of Birmingham, Hoover, Gadsden, and elsewhere.
I kept going to actions and protests...drumming and chanting and hoping I would look around one day and see everyone I knew, joining our voices together to slay the dragon. But other than a couple close friends, not many people I knew were getting involved in movement work. It was disappointing because it felt like a rare chance for everyone to pause during the pandemic and address pressing systemic issues...it was a charged window of time. But I found new people. Through activism I met others who were compelled to speak out...many of them are on these recordings. By going out into the streets we made our discontent visible...but we also represented a shared hopefulness through our actions. We shouted and sang and drummed and made a joyful noise. And when you’re in a chorus that big, it's ecstatic.
This album is a way of continuing to project that collective voice. We are the people. And we must keep looking for ways to help each other. Take the time. As many demonstrators have written on signs the world over: The Struggle Continues...
-Jasper L
_____________________
All proceeds benefit Margins for Black Women and Birmingham Mutual Aid.
Margins for Black Women: https://marginsw4bw.weebly.com/
Margins’ goal is to uplift and strengthen Black women, aiding poverty-stricken families and providing practical support.
Birmingham Mutual Aid: https://www.patreon.com/bhamma
A local solidarity effort that distributes food, clothes and more to anyone in need.
This project documents the sound of protest in Birmingham in the years 2020-21. During the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, the murder of George Floyd and others at the hands of police sparked a level of social unrest that I had never seen before. I thought "At least people are finally doing something. We can change things with this momentum. Now is the time." I had already been involved in activism, but now I started going to every protest I could. Every event had to do with holding institutions accountable, whether they be the police department, utility companies, state regulatory agencies, or elected officials. There was, and still is, rampant governmental corruption, unchecked industrial pollution, entrenched systemic racism, and pervasive capitalist exploitation of people and the earth itself. All these issues intersect to shape our reality while most people just passively watch everything get worse. But so many of us couldn't remain complacent any longer.
It helps to have a role in a large group. I found a role in drumming at protests, usually on plastic buckets that a friend and I would bring and share with people. Drumming in unison with the protest chants felt like the truest application of what I'd learned in the school band as a teenager. I had trained as a drummer in the marching band, a musical form that comes directly from military tradition. It was hard discipline requiring constant rehearsal and marching outside in the blazing sun, but the feeling of purpose in performing as part of a group in the open air was undeniable. It dawned on me while drumming in protests that now I had become an actual warrior. It resonated deeply to use music in this way...to amplify a collective social need. In marching band, we had played at football games which were mock battles. But now we were in real confrontations with real opponents: such as a militarized police force who saw us as a threat. We protested peacefully...but inevitably we were always drumming and shouting in the face of the meanest form of authority in this country. We became sonic warriors. Marching and thundering through the streets of Birmingham, Hoover, Gadsden, and elsewhere.
I kept going to actions and protests...drumming and chanting and hoping I would look around one day and see everyone I knew, joining our voices together to slay the dragon. But other than a couple close friends, not many people I knew were getting involved in movement work. It was disappointing because it felt like a rare chance for everyone to pause during the pandemic and address pressing systemic issues...it was a charged window of time. But I found new people. Through activism I met others who were compelled to speak out...many of them are on these recordings. By going out into the streets we made our discontent visible...but we also represented a shared hopefulness through our actions. We shouted and sang and drummed and made a joyful noise. And when you’re in a chorus that big, it's ecstatic.
This album is a way of continuing to project that collective voice. We are the people. And we must keep looking for ways to help each other. Take the time. As many demonstrators have written on signs the world over: The Struggle Continues...
-Jasper L
_____________________
All proceeds benefit Margins for Black Women and Birmingham Mutual Aid.
Margins for Black Women: https://marginsw4bw.weebly.com/
Margins’ goal is to uplift and strengthen Black women, aiding poverty-stricken families and providing practical support.
Birmingham Mutual Aid: https://www.patreon.com/bhamma
A local solidarity effort that distributes food, clothes and more to anyone in need.
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