Slate Questions the New Generation of British White Female Soul Singers

The singer Adele Adkins—better known, simply, as Adele—belongs to a cadre of young white British girls who, over the past seven years, have made names for themselves as "soul singers," a term meant to imply authenticity and legitimacy as well as retro chic. Her contemporaries are Joss Stone, Duffy, and Amy Winehouse, the first two of which were crafted by the same assembly line while Winehouse, all tattooed and strung out, seems more a product of a factory meltdown. Adele, because her persona is not strikingly manufactured—or obviously self-destructive—falls somewhere in the middle.

Slate Questions the New Generation of British White Female Soul Singers

Words Mike Spies for Slate Online

Taken together, these girls form a single idea, which merits attention. Their vocal sound, good or bad or contrived, is meant to conjure an older, black-American aesthetic that is far more Motown than soul. It's tempting to suggest the appeal is rooted in paradox or, rather, the unexpected—white played against black. But this is a simple idea, and a severely dated one at that. Sure, I'll admit, there's something exhilarating when, say, a young Taiwanese man who barely speaks English does a perfect rendition of Whitney Houston's "I Will Always Love You" on live television, but the catharsis one feels, in this case, when the man opens his mouth is generated by paradox in the extreme, as the distance—culturally, geographically, linguistically, generationally, racially—between this man and Ms. Houston—not to mention this man and Dolly Parton, who wrote and originally performed the song—is practically insurmountable. At least at first glance.

The same could be said, on a lesser level, for Adele and company, their success explained away by the unlikelihood of the voice, which implies the following question: How could four white British girls, two of whom were in their teens at the time of their rise to stardom—the other two in their early 20s—channel such an "authentic" sound, often characterized as "wise beyond its years," often characterized as "soul"? But to ask such a question would be to commit a failure of imagination, as there is a distinction to be made between "soul" and "style," the former of which, when it comes to pop music, is too religious for me, too limiting, too dishonest and simple.

Over the years, "soul" has become cartoonish, almost invariably tied up with a singular, manufactured idea of "black experience"—think of the movie Precious—which is as reflective of Oprah's tastes as it is a fantasy of liberal-arts students. Hilton Als once said of Aretha Franklin: "Her big black sound appealed to whites because it was easy to grasp; she sounded just the way white people imagined a black woman would sound—plaintive but feisty, indomitable but sad." This is not so much a critique of Aretha as it is the narrative suggested by (or projected on) her music; it's an argument against caricature. When discussing so-called black music we need to account for a wide-ranging, complex experience that now allows for multiple, individual voices instead of one, "true," collective voice. As Zadie Smith notes in her essay, "Speaking in Tongues":

Black reality has diversified. It's black people who talk like me, and black people who talk like L'il Wayne. It's black conservatives and black liberals, black sportsmen and black lawyers, black computer technicians and black ballet dancers and black truck drivers and black presidents. We're all black, and we all love to be black, and we all sing from our own hymn sheet. We're all surely black people, but we may be finally approaching a point of human history where you can't talk up or down to us anymore, but only to us.

The context has changed, and not just for blacks, but for everyone. "Soul" no longer has a place in discussions of music; it doesn't apply to contemporary singing.

Style, however, does. It denotes nothing specific, does not deny artifice, and emphasizes the purely aesthetic over the cultural or historical or political. Style deems context irrelevant and places the onus on vocal sensibility, which is a theatrical, or postmodern, gesture, though no less sincere for this admission. Because if we're truly living in an age that defies stereotypes and explodes clichés, where distances of all kinds have been virtually obliterated, then everything—timbre, blue notes, pronunciation, timing, diction—is available as stylistic options.

It's fitting that Drake—the bar mitzvahed son of a white-Canadian, Jewish mother and an African-American father—has become a darling of hip-hop. Raised in an affluent Toronto neighborhood, his artistic legitimacy has nothing to do with a typical hardscrabble back story, which suggests we're beginning to view the performer in a manner similar to the way we view the novelist, whose books are accepted as works of the imagination, not autobiography. So perhaps we're evolving. Perhaps we're looking to meet the singer in a more neutral space, where one's voice can float freely, unhinged from received narratives. After all, musicians are no longer born out of a particular milieu; they're born on the Internet, out of nowhere.

For Americans, this is a new way of perceiving American music, which, for decades, has often collided with, and subsequently been bound to, the hopes and dreams and frustrations of a certain race or class or culture or cohort. For example, the cultural critic Gerald Early writes in One Nation Under a Groove: Motown and American Culture: "In 1964, when Motown released Martha and the Vandellas' 'Dancing in the Street,' urban riots were becoming the sine qua non of black frustration," and "Few blacks accepted the song on its face, insisting that it was a metaphorical theme song for black unity and black revolution. To Motown and Martha Reeves, of course, it was just another dance song."

When Berry Gordy began to cultivate the Motown sound, his intention was to create brown music—hyper-calculated and intended to appeal to the entire color spectrum. He was motivated by success and knew that he had to appeal to everyone's sensibilities while allaying their racial anxieties. His mission, though inextricably linked to history, was to stand outside of history. His concern, ahead of its time, was style, and, as Early explains in his book, he appealed "to American youth through music that neither bleached nor blackened."

Which brings me back to Adele. England has always had a unique relationship to black-American music. Before the blues were accepted by whites living on Main Street, USA, it had to go to Great Britain first, where, as the story goes, bands like the Rolling Stones appropriated the form and sent it back over the airwaves to a new, willing audience that was suddenly given the courage both to listen and to play the music.

This was possible because England had the benefit of sharing a common language with the States while standing at a comfortable remove from its complex social circumstances and neuroses. English people were free to have a genuinely aesthetic experience with American music and so were able to view it as a set of stylistic options or gestures from which they could pick and choose. That English singers seemed to have no hang-ups about borrowing these American voices is not surprising, as the English, I think, have always had a better idea of the multi-voiced nature of performance than Americans. They were able to view the blues as theater, which it was, and still is. For them, it was never a matter of genetic code, which is, perhaps, Shakespeare's enduring legacy.
But, anyway, here's the news:

Adele has released her second album, 21, the follow-up to her Grammy-winning 19. Whether or not it's good is beside the point. I can, however, tell you this: Like the first record, it has nothing to do with "soul."

Tags: Afropunk.com, British, Female, Generation, New, Questions, Singers, Slate, Soul, White, More…afro-punk, of, the

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Comment by Newsoul on March 8, 2011 at 8:10pm: Black American mainstream music in all it's guises is DOA and has been since 1993 and Hip- Hop killed it, thanks to Dr. Dre and the Death Row posse who put mayhem, cooning, homophobia and sexism into our mess THE END.

At least somebody overseas appreciates real "R&B music", I think Winehouse had potential until she self imploded Duffy is Dusty Springfield lite and Neo- Soul had potential for a minute until Lauryn Hill went batshit. That brings me to Adele, a pretty good singer but can she move you and do music like Aretha did between 1967- 1976 when Franklin went on a creative tear that only the Beatles, Dylan and Stevie Wonder could match for musical excellence. She did Gospel, Live albums, Soundtracks, Pop, Funk and everything under the sun. Aretha earned the title 'Queen of Soul' during those years. The only female pop artist who could match her musical legacy is Joni Mitchell. Until I see Adele (or any other female singer) do what Aretha did for those 9 years then it's BS.

I don't even take Joss Stone seriously musically expect she has a kicking body.

Comment by Kaminelana Cheatem on March 7, 2011 at 7:55pm: @MamaDoc -- I definitely hear you. I think it's important to remember that where some of the frustration comes from for a lot of blacks (and other folks of color) pointing out the comparisons is because how the broader music culture was based on a foundation of secrets, lies and racial/gender inequities. For those of us over a certain age, it's very hard to shake the realities of what we saw in the 50's, 60's, 70's and beyond. There is a distinct tradition of white artists -- particularly white Brit artists -- who take styles of music originated by American blacks and regurgitate them back to the same audiences who never gave black artists the full credit, recognition and praise for what they created. Can't help but wonder what American music would look like if there had always been an even, equal ground between blacks and whites and so such thing as categorizations like "race music" and the belief that seminal black rockers, like Chuck Berry and Little Richard, shouldn't get the same exposure, acceptance and credit as Elvis, Jerry Lee Lewis and the like.

I do believe that race (and gender) should transcend styles of music. It's awesome your classmate loved jazz and could scat like the great Ella. Everyone should be able to create the kind of music and art they want -- whether it's a black girl from a poor neighborhood in the Bronx or the south side of Chicago who adores playing classical harp and cello, a rich white boy from Beverly Hills who wants to sing the same style of soul like Sam Cooke and Marvin Gaye, or a working class black girl who is a proud punk rocker and wants to play guitar like James from The Stooges and Lita Ford, we all have the right to love the kinds of music we dig. But, like so much else in the broader picture of race/cultural and gender issues, there is still a lot of work to be done regarding equality, artistic freedom and acceptance.

Comment by Mamadoc on March 7, 2011 at 3:45pm: What's strange to me is that the only ones I hear ever comparing the white artists to blacks are other blacks. I went to an arts school throughout my high school years and will always remember a classmate who could scat with the best of them. She was white and just singing from her soul. In no way did she consider herself trying to sing "black" or competing with "black" singers. She just sang.

The most irriating thing about Joss Stone for me was when I saw her perfoming on a show & someone had the nerve to compare her to Aretha Franklin. When I've heard her, she reminds me a lot more of Janis Joplin but I guess we just have to have her on our side for some reason. Kinda like Bill Clinton being called "black." Humph....

Comment by Kaminelana Cheatem on March 6, 2011 at 3:02am: @Deacon -- LOL!! Totally insane. Jeeeez, now I can't get the damn Osmonds' cover of "One Bad Apple" outta my head!!! Bastards.

Comment by The Deacon on March 6, 2011 at 1:45am: @BoweryBetty,

Glad you bought up the Jackson 5 vs. the Osmonds. You want to get folks from our generation riled up, bring up that squeaky clean family the Osmonds.

Comment by Kaminelana Cheatem on March 6, 2011 at 1:18am: @Deacon -- I definitely hear you. You are right-on about New Kids and New Addition. It's the same old tired game. Totally takes me back to the dueling pop music back-and-forth that happened for a bit with the Jackson 5 and the Osmonds way back in the early 70's -- do you remember that insanity?? Even with the friggin' Saturday morning cartoons.

Comment by The Deacon on March 6, 2011 at 12:51am: Personally, I don't get it with these Brit singers. Sure they are alright, but people acting like it's the second coming. I downloaded at one time or another their music and decided they weren't bringing anything new to the game. The worst of them all was Josh Stone. I kept the Amy Winehouse stuff. I think she has potential, but miss the mark a bit for me. But I love her voice, just the choice of material I'm not crazy about.

The bottom line is the industry will always promote white artists that sound black; and promote them over black acts. If they can't find it they manufacture it. Case and point, New Kids on the Block manufactured by Maurice Star as a white alternative to New Addition (well documented, he even gave an interview to 20/20 a few years back). So the black managers, producers and artists are aware of the equation and are cashing in on it as well. I'm sure some of that went into Usher Signing Justin Bieber & Lady Gaga being signed by Akon. We're being proper on AP, but I've heard the talk in the street coming from black producers drooling for a white girl with the voice and swag of a black.

On the other hand, I see black folks listening to Rock music. 99% of the time, the end product always sound different than white Rock; hence, not an imitation. Maybe we've reached that point in history where Black Rock will become a genre; at least there's a consciousness spreading of an Afro Punk. Now even withe kids are wishing they were Afro Punks.

Comment by Kaminelana Cheatem on March 5, 2011 at 7:21pm: @Lunakiss -- I hear you with Beth from The Gossip. For a geezer like me? Soul music does transcend race and it is about how it sounds -- from your soul....like a chord in your heart that has been plucked and vibrates into resonance while you listen to the song. I've definitely heard my share of tepid, bland soul singers (both male and female) who also happened to be Black. I'm a bit of a purist when it comes to the classic soul, funk, ska and rocksteady music I like. I adore the early waves of those styles of music from roughly the late 50's to the mid 70's. To my ears, there has to be an authenticity and a raw realness -- like the difference between listening to punk on vinyl or a sanitized cd. You don't need to be a Tammi Terrell clone or sound exactly like Aretha, Susan Cadogan, Symarip or The Maytals. It's about the energy in the music and how it makes me feel.

I don't object to these girls trying to sing a classic style of soul music. I just can't help but see an old pattern that reminds me of how race, ageism and lookism still tint the way artists are put in the mainstream spotlight. I want to rephrase something I said in my comment from yesterday about major labels. There was a time where some labels definitely took a chance on a new singer or band thanks to the efforts of people known as "A&R" (Artists and Repertoire). But this just isn't the case anymore. These folks were the "scouts" who would be out and about keeping their eyes and ears open for new talent. While there were a great majority who were more concerned with the bottom-line profit margins than discovering incredible new talent, there were many who loved music more and discovered a lot of the great jazz, rock and, yes, early punk artists and gave them a chance to be heard before all the other labels would pile on the bandwagon. For some of them it really was more about discovering new artists for the sake of introducing the public to a new sound. It's striking to look at the current state of major labels in the recording industry and see so many corporations based on shareholders and stock tickers staring back. When I look at my record collection I can't help but be struck that there are so many famous bands and singers who just wouldn't even be given a chance today by most of the majors simply because of how they looked, their non-commercial sound and the fact that they can't consistently hit #1 songs, even break into the Billboard top 100 or sell a million records every time they release an album...or win an armload of Grammys.

Comment by Compound Egret on March 5, 2011 at 1:53pm: I can't blame Adele for singing the way she does. I can't blame record companies for going with a formula that works. I would rather listen to Lisa Stansfield though. Also, if you got your Jill Scott collection from Limewire or off a table or wheelbarrow on Canal St. I don't think you can complain

Comment by Lunakiss on March 5, 2011 at 8:41am: This article is bothersome to me too. There are people who are white sing soulfully. They aren't trying to outdo Blacks.

Adele is alright. My favorite white soul artist are Joss Stone,Teena Marie, Taylor Dayne, Anastacia(An American singer who made it big over seas not in the USA). Beth Ditto from The Gossip whose voice is more of punk rock soul than just soul.

I'm black and I don't sing like any of the great soul or R&B artists. So is the soul sound about race or about the singer's capability to sing soul naturally?