After losing Isaac Hayes over the weekend I was excited to take the number Two train to Wingate Field in Brooklyn to sit under the spell of THE Jill Scott. That's right, the enchanted, the lovely, the charming, the funny, the real Jill Scott. And guess what... the concert was free. Yeh, I'm rubbing it in, but hey, too bad. Sometimes rubbing it in makes the experience all the more gratifying.
I grew up in the 70s and 80s on the mostly-black outskirts of Cincinnati. I had two older teenage brothers who were the proud hosts of some of the best "Skip Parties" in Cincinnati's black suburbia. I'm talking doors open at 8am, steak and eggs, and Earth, Wind and Fire in constant rotation. And during their so-called "study time" they skimmed the pages of Jet and spun the Ohio Players, Marvin Gaye, L.T.D., Minnie Riperton, Natalie Cole, the Isley Brothers... I think you get my point. I was surrounded by the kind of music that celebrated black love, black emotion and black funk all underscored by some of the most talented beings on this here planet. I was, as my Big Mom used to say, "Blessed."
Well, last night Jill gave homage to that music. Not just in her literal roll-call of the latest and the greatest, but in her impulse to sing and write songs that speak the truth about the black life that shaped her. The gorgeous memories of black song that's trapped in her DNA: the songtress that starts her lyrics with a loaded "Hey, Baby", the sexual fire that ignites from Prince's "Do Me, Baby" and the Isley Brothers "Between the Sheets", and how it's her global mission to keep that fire alive in her artistry.
If you allow me to name-drop for a sec: I met Jill Scott several years ago. She was cast in a play I wrote called On The Hills of Black America And the word back stage? Jill was about to "blow up". I liked her instantly [and dare I say I had a crush. it was all about that smile]. A few years ago, she was cast in an episode I wrote for Girlfriends and of course a brother ran over to her [mostly to show my fellow Girlfriends writers I know musical greatness, too]. Jill remembered me, of course, and we chilled on the set [meaning I flirted]. However I refused to take a sip from her Martini case [I was working]. But I will say that I wrote the lines William delivers to her in a roadside chat: "I'm all about you... Your smile lights up everything around you." Oh yeh, and so does that voice.
I mention this only because Jill Scott means a lot to me and that I'm thrilled our artistic paths crossed. She loves our community and respects it and always places it front and center. I believe Jill Scott is the bridge that connects the old and the future of black music. A true cultural custodian. Black love and emotion won't go anywhere as long as Jill's somewhere singing. Isaac is gone, but we have Jill, baby!
I'll be a fool not to plug her 2007 The Real Thing: Volume Three. If you haven't invested, do so today.