The Rock Issue

A twist of fate for pioneers Black Merda text Dan Nishimoto

ard Chess and the youthful visionary behind Electric Mud —and landed a record deal. As Black Merda readied its eponymous debut in 1970, the band quickly became well versed with the familiar story of promised success and diminished returns. The group picked the fruits of its songwriting labors, such as the stomping “Prophet” and amorphous “Cynthy-Ruth,” and recorded an album that reflected the fuzzy and cautious outlook of the day. However, Marshall Chess had departed for England soon after signing the group, essentially disconnecting the band from its label. The record was quietly released and soon faded into obscurity. By 1971, the band was beginning to fracture; Hite had grown increasingly unreliable and left. The remaining members followed Fugi to Los Angeles, where they continued to make high-profile connections, meeting Eric Burdon and War. But the West Coast produced nothing concrete, and they dispiritedly returned to the Midwest to record their 1972 follow-up for Janus Records, a Chess subsidiary. Long Burn the Fire unfortunately followed in its prede- cessor’s footsteps, and the band ground to a halt. In a story familiar to Wax Poetics readers, collectors gave Black Merda a second life. Interest in a group finally reached a critical mass in 2004 when Tuff City reissued both albums on one CD, titled The Folks from Mother’s Mixer . Around the same time, Veasey and the Hawkins brothers reunited (Hite could not participate due to illness) and began performing, notably at festivals in Ottawa, New York City, and their own Detroit. Appropriately, the band was sampled by Murder Inc. artist Ja Rule on the title track to his 2005 LP, Exodus . In 2006, the remaining members released a new album titled Renaissance . At present, the band maintains an active presence on the web through MySpace and YouTube, as well as taking the stage for the occasional gig. In August 2004 and April 2006, I spoke with VC L. Veasey about the band’s history and its first two albums.

“We’ll Black Merdarize them!” laughs VC L. Veasey while mus- ing about the impact of his recently reunited band Black Merda (pronounced “murder”). This phrase from the bassist, singer, and songwriter recalls one of the most familiar tropes in hip-hop. The metaphor began as a playful exaggeration of asserting dominance, as in murdering a song or a performance. The deaths of Tupac Shakur and Notorious B.I.G. made the idea literal and, for many, resulted in an understandable skepticism around any suggestion of violence. Yet, the notion of performed murder remains a titil- lating selling point. But what gives a rock band the right to carry on this tradition? Black Merda earned that right as a pioneering “Black rock” band in Detroit from the late ’60s to early ’70s. One of the few all–Af- rican American groups in a predominantly Anglo field, the quartet of Veasey, guitarist brothers Charles and Anthony “Wolf” Hawkins, and drummer Tyrone Hite fused Hendrix psychedelics, raw rock, and a funk backbeat like no other known group. With a name that recalled the legacy of violence against African Americans—a quasi progenitor of socially charged names in hip-hop, like Public Enemy and OutKast—and an original outlook, the group staked its claim by being one of the few and the best. The band began as a backing group known as the Soul Agents for marquee rhythm-and-blues and soul artists, like Edwin Starr, Gene Chandler, and the Temptations. After a fateful run-in with Are You Experienced? , the quartet found a new name (for a hot minute “Murder, Incorporated,” before settling on the slightly less menac- ing “Black Merda”) and its true calling. Their first recorded hit was in 1968, backing an aspiring singer and songwriter named Fugi on the regional psychedelic-funk hit “Mary, Don’t Take Me on No Bad Trip.” (An entire album of material was recorded but not released until 2005, as Mary, Don’t Take Me on No Bad Trip on Tuff City.) Given the band’s newfound direction, they understandably came to the attention of Marshall Chess—the son of label cofounder Leon-

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Black Merda, from their self-titled release on Chess Records.

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