COLONIALISM & INSTITUTIONS
White Colonial Ideologies and the Institutionalization of Power
The Auction Block and the Hit Song: Blues Is My Business
It wasn’t until 1978 that Bob Dylan would acknowledge that “Blowin’ in the Wind” was a direct adaptation from “No More Auction Block for Me.”
The song literally made him millions, but he didn’t owe anything to the song’s original creators. Dylan has a long history of litigation around his “borrowing” of elements of songs from other musicians, but when “No More Auction Block for Me” was first written down in 1867 in Slave Songs of the United States, its creation was simply attributed to “Anonymous.”
Written By: Amy Abugo Ongiri
Slavery continues to be an uncomfortable topic for most Americans. This is doubly so for Americans of African descent because of its association with our collective trauma, pain, and sorrow. In many ways, though, the story of our enslavement is one of radical hope. It is awe inspiring to consider the fact that even though all the technologies of European modernity and industrialization were allied in the attempt to control, oppress, and even eliminate us, and we are still here and very much free. What kept us here and moving towards freedom was our indigenous knowledge. Our agrarian roots didn’t start with our enslavement. Many enslaved people were expert planters and cultivators in Africa, and that knowledge was at least part of the reason that we were stolen away by Europeans in the first place, because they valued our ability to cultivate rice and other plants that would become mainstays in the US.
The seeds we planted under that bitter experience flourished despite the pain that we also experienced under enslavement. Music and sound became our means of resistance, and the seeds that we planted culturally flourished as well, despite the horrible conditions under which they came to expression. It is commonly known that the roots of all US popular music originate in African American expressive culture. But do we always know how deep and widely those roots go?
One of the most impactful popular protest songs of all time has its roots in the 19th-century expression of slaves who sought freedom and liberation under what Amiri Baraka called “the worst kind of slavery.” Baraka wrote the book Blues People, a landmark study of the impact of enslavement on the development of African American culture. For him, the blues were the deepest experience of cultural expression created as people turned from Africans during enslavement into African Americans. Baraka would write: “Blues could not exist if the African captives had not become American captives.”
Sometime in the late 1800s, possibly earlier, enslaved African Americans composed a song expressing their desire for liberation. The song was called “No More Auction Block for Me,” and it is a carefully detailed account of all of the things that enslaved people will joyfully leave behind when they achieve freedom. The song focuses on both the everyday aspects of slavery, such as the insufficient food rations, as the song exclaims, “no more pinch of salt for me, no more peck of corn for me.” While the rest of the song celebrates the end of the harsh realities of slavery, “no more hundred lash for me, no more mistress call for me.” An early publication of the song that appeared in 1867 said it was a song “to which the Rebellion had actually given rise.” Exactly which rebellion is somewhat in question, as very few people were concerned about recording the facts of Black resistance in the 1800s.
Image credit the Smithsonian
When it was written down in 1867, the author claims that “it was first sung” when enslaved people were sent to build fortifications for the confederate army on the Gullah Islands of Hilton Head and Bay Point. It is likely that enslaved people sang the song before this moment, but this was the first time that their enslavers heard it and recorded it. From a contemporary standpoint, it seems unlikely that enslaved people sang the song in support of the confederacy as its earliest recorders implied. Enslaved labor formed the cornerstone of the confederate rebellion, and the confederacy was fighting to maintain it. The alternate title for the song “Many Thousands Gone” suggests that the song was either a lament for the losses under slavery or a celebration of those who had managed to escape it by running away.
Canadians have long celebrated the song as part of the heritage of the “Black Loyalists” of Nova Scotia and New Brunswick. Black Loyalists were enslaved and free people of African descent who sided with the British during the Revolutionary War. In 1775, a British proclamation promised land, freedom, and protection to any person of African descent who fought for the British. When it was clear that the British would not win, thousands of these soldiers and their families fled across the border to Canada, forming some of the first free settlements there in Nova Scotia and New Brunswick. These soldiers faced discrimination and denial of benefits that they were promised, though many persevered and were foundational to Canadian society. At least a thousand of these Black Loyalists elected to leave Canada and return to Africa in 1792. They settled in Sierra Leone and created the city of Freetown, which is now the capital and largest city in that country.
Whether the song is the product of the civil war or the revolutionary war, the song’s impact continues to be deeply felt, though, like the history of enslaved people, it’s not always acknowledged. The singer Odetta began performing the song in the 1950s and recorded it on her 1960 album Live at Carnegie Hall. Known as “The Voice of the Civil Rights Movement,” Odetta explored the history of African American culture in song. When she began singing “No More Auction Block for Me” at folk music venues around New York City, she was heard by a young Bob Dylan. Bob Dylan, himself, would begin performing the song, undoubtedly influenced by sharing the stage with Odetta in many of those same venues.
Dylan was already deeply influenced by Odetta’s music, and, in fact, he claimed it was Odetta who made him a folk singer in the first place. Dylan had become Dylan by practicing to an Odetta album when he was still a teenager in Minnesota. It was, according to him, the first folk album that he ever owned, and he learned every song on it. It was the music of Odetta that convinced Dylan to give up the electric guitar that he had been playing as a teenager and turn to folk music in the first place. He even bought the same model of acoustic guitar as Odetta, saying: “Right then and there, I went out and traded my electric guitar and amplifier for an acoustical guitar, a flat-top Gibson.” In 1965, Odetta would turn the tables on Dylan by recording Odetta Sings Dylan.
Odetta in 1961
Bob Dylan released the anti-war song “Blowin’ in the Wind” in 1963, and it would go on to become one of the best-selling and most iconic protest songs in US history. Since its release, the song has been recorded hundreds of times by a wide variety of artists. When the folk group Peter, Paul, and Mary released their version of the song (also in 1963), it sold 300,000 copies in its first week and quickly exceeded a million sales. Since the song was copyrighted to Bob Dylan when he wrote the lyrics in the 1960s, he has continued to profit tremendously from its recording. In 2019, the song was even used in a Budweiser advertisement that aired during the Super Bowl.
It wasn’t until 1978 that Bob Dylan would acknowledge that “Blowin’ in the Wind” was a direct adaptation from “No More Auction Block for Me.”
The song literally made him millions, but he didn’t owe anything to the song’s original creators. Dylan has a long history of litigation around his “borrowing” of elements of songs from other musicians, but when “No More Auction Block for Me” was first written down in 1867 in Slave Songs of the United States, its creation was simply attributed to “Anonymous.” One could argue that it would have been impossible for Dylan to compensate African Americans for their creative work because of the conditions of the work’s creation that were beyond his control. But that wouldn’t explain why it took so long for him to acknowledge the song’s origins.
The creation of US popular music has always been a profoundly material as well as aesthetic process. In Blacksound: Making Race and Popular Music in the United States, Matthew D. Morrison marks the way that music as the space of Black creative possibility also became the space in which American commercial music was created as well. This space was not only one of creative productivity but also, as many scholars have noted, one that replicated the wider theft and exploitation occurring in mainstream US culture. Morrison notes: “Blacksound is the locus through which the original performances (sonic and corporeal aesthetics) of black musicians—who develop their practices both within their own segregated communities and in relation to European American and other ethnic styles over time—were then taken up as sources of property to be owned and copyrighted by mostly white musicians in the establishment of the popular music industry.”
It is hard to imagine what it must have been like for the originators of “No More Auction Block for Me” to sit and imagine freedom when it barely seemed like a possibility. It was a leap of radical hope and undoubtedly a very sacred moment. The journey of the song from a lament and call for liberation by enslaved African Americans to its hidden uses and commercial success for non-Black people is emblematic of the ways in which Black music exists within American culture in general. African Americans have always provided commercial music’s roots and also its branches but have rarely been fully acknowledged for that work. Our lyrical cries for freedom have nourished us when freedom didn’t even seem possible. We and all other Americans have always received the benefits of that imaginative leap even when it hasn’t been acknowledged or compensated. The musical continuity from slavery to the present moments assure that our sacred moments will never be lost to us.
Copyrights 2025
The idea that major record labels will be devastated by the wave of artists reclaiming their copyrights is almost laughable, especially when considering what these labels currently own and control.
Written By:
Allen Johnston
Music Specialist
Big Joe Turner
The idea that major record labels will be devastated by the wave of artists reclaiming their
copyrights is almost laughable, especially when considering what these labels currently own
and control.
Major record companies have long relied on their back catalog as a built-in revenue stream.
Sales of CDs, digital streams, vinyl, and live performance recordings continue to sustain them
while revenue from new artists remains unpredictable. Over the decades, these corporations
have strategically structured the industry in their favor.
During the 1980s, major labels executed a plan that dismantled independent Black and White
retailers while securing dominance over distribution. They introduced the SoundScan system,
offering free computers to independent store owners and coalitions. This initiative gave labels
direct access to sales data, allowing them to pinpoint which catalog titles were consistent
sellers. With this knowledge, they could optimize manufacturing costs while maximizing profits.
Since they owned the copyrights, they essentially paid themselves through mechanical,
synchronization, and performance publishing rights.Recording contracts from that era—and even before—ensured that major labels retained nearlyall revenue streams from copyrights. Artists were left with only a fraction of publishing revenue, limited performance royalties, and sometimes a cut of merchandising. PA (musical composition) and SR (sound recording) copyrights for nearly every hit song before 1984 remain under the ownership or control of a major label or one of its affiliates. For instance, Sony Music might control the SR copyright of a song, hold at least 50% of the PA copyright through contractual agreements, and place the composition within its wholly owned publishing division. This setup allowed money to circulate internally, with one corporate division paying another. Additionally, many artists had taken advances against royalties, leading to labels claiming ownership over original songwriter shares as well.
Artists affected by these agreements include, but are not limited to: Aretha Franklin, Marvin Gaye, Otis Redding, Ray Charles, Chuck Berry, James Brown, Clyde McPhatter & The Drifters, Big Joe Turner, The Temptations, Little Richard, Wilson Pickett, Fats Domino, The Dominoes, Sly & The Family Stone, Lloyd Price, Martha & The Vandellas, Parliament-Funkadelic, The Four Tops, The Isley Brothers, Jackie Wilson, Smokey Robinson & The Miracles, Kool & The Gang, The Supremes, Frankie Lymon & The Teenagers, Earth, Wind & Fire, and many more.
Even in the worst-case scenario, where some artists reclaim their rights, major labels will simply renegotiate with savvy copyright owners who have financial leverage. For everyone else, it will remain business as usual—offering advances in exchange for new contracts.
These catalogs retain immense value in the digital age, particularly in streaming, film and commercial licensing, and corporate partnerships. With their industry connections, financial muscle, and technological infrastructure, major labels remain well-positioned to continue profiting from these assets.
Black Business in Colonial America
As enslaved Africans gained their freedom in colonial America, they used the labor activities learned in slavery to start a new life. Across the cities and towns of this nation, free Blacks set up agribusinesses and took up as bricklayers, gunsmiths, shoemakers, nurses and innkeepers to form the initial steps of the Black business community.
By Karleton Thomas
As enslaved Africans gained their freedom in colonial America, they used the labor activities
learned in slavery to start a new life. Across the cities and towns of this nation, free Blacks set
up agribusinesses. They took up as bricklayers, gunsmiths, shoemakers, nurses, and innkeepers
to form the initial steps of the Black business community. Collectivism underlined the economic
activity of free Blacks in colonial America as they worked to establish independence in an
outwardly racist society successfully.
Those days are long gone, and blatantly racist laws, such as those barring credit to free Blacks,
no longer sit on the books of American cities. By comparison, the discriminatory laws of today
hold little weight when viewed next to laws in place during colonial America. Few, if any, Black
businesses of that time were allowed to grow outside of the community, but colonial-era Black
businessmen thrived when compared to those of today.
Many arguments have been made regarding the decline of the Black business community -
integration, angry white mobs, racist laws, etc. Though all contributing factors, none can fully
explain the demise of the Black business community. As markets opened up and Blacks were
able to walk through doors closed to previous generations, one would expect burgeoning Black
business metropolises to follow, but despite our best efforts, that never happened.
Today, most Black businesses fail within four years. For all the businesses being started by
Black entrepreneurs today, 87% will gross less than $15,000. Most can be categorized as
lifestyle businesses - entities run by its founder for the benefit of its founder. That’s a hard sell in
a community but despite this, the age of individualism looms on. It wasn’t the angry mobs or
racist laws that first slowed and then stalled progress, it was the varying motivations developed
amongst the Black community. Now, instead of a few options, Blacks were able to chart
individual pathways designed for their sole benefit. This produced outstanding, singular results,
but for many Black entrepreneurs the lack of community has proven to be an insurmountable
obstacle.
Our formerly enslaved, African ancestors practiced collectivism because pulling together to
ensure a chance at survival. Collectivism does not make much sense today but the principals
live on in cooperative business practices. A cooperative business model is one that responds to
the needs of all stakeholders; employees, customers, suppliers, the local community, the
environment and future generations, as well as investors. The adoption of the cooperative
business model as the framework for current and future Black business communities presents
two huge benefits: the recirculation of Black dollars and low unemployment.
The Black dollar and its effect or lack thereof has been well documented across academic
journals. At one point, it was reported the average lifespan of the Black dollar in the Black
community was six hours compared to 28 in Asian communities. That fact was proven to be
false but when the majority of businesses in Black communities are owned by individuals who
do not live or hire from that community - the truth is not far away. It is safe to assume that over
$.50 of every dollar spent leaves the community.
When a business in the Black community is owned by someone who lives and hires from the
community - we all benefit. Cooperative business models present a number of workforce
development opportunities for free Blacks who have been denied entry to the traditional job
market. As more cooperatives are formed, unemployment in those areas will dramatically
decrease, so will crime, drug use, and dependence on government programs. Grocery stores
wholly owned by the community can employ 100’s of employees with an invested interest in that
venture's success. They would live and work in the same area - tending to and protecting their
future.
Buffalo Soldier Project, San Angelo Texas, and Black History
In this episode of the African American Folklorist, I speak with Sherley Spears, NAACP Unit 6219 President, President of the National Historic Landmark Fort Concho, and founder of the Buffalo Soldier Project. The National Historic Landmark Fort Concho Museum preserves the structures and archeological site features for pride and educational purposes, serving the San Angelo, Texas community.
By Lamont Jack Pearley
In this episode of the African American Folklorist, I speak with Sherley Spears, NAACP Unit 6219 President, Vice President of the National Historic Landmark Fort Concho Museum Board, and founder of the Buffalo Soldier Project. The National Historic Landmark Fort Concho Museum preserves the structures and archeological site features for pride and educational purposes, serving the San Angelo, Texas community.
Sherley Spears
NAACP Unit 6219 President, Vice President of the National Historic Landmark Fort Concho Museum Board, and founder of the Buffalo Soldier Project.
One significant story coming from Fort Concho and the San Angelo community is the contributions and community development of and by the Buffalo Soldiers. On July 28, 1866, Congress passed the Army Organization Act, allowing African American men including many former slaves to serve in the specially created all-black military units following the Civil War. The original troops were 9th and 10th Cavalry and the 38th, 39th, 40th, and 41st Infantry. In 1869, the four infantry regiments were reorganized to form the 24th and 25th Infantry. Eventually, troops from each of these regiments served at Fort Concho. These black troops would be given the name ”Buffalo Soldiers," allegedly, by the Indian tribes because of their dark, thick, curly hair resembling buffalo hair. Fort Concho, originally established in 1867, was built for soldiers protecting frontier settlers traveling west against Indian tribes in the area.
Buffalo Soldiers
Buffalo Soldiers of the American 10th Cavalry Regiment
A notable member of the San Angelo community was Elijah Cox, a retired soldier from the 10th Cavalry. While never stationed with the Buffalo Soldiers at Fort Concho, Cox lived and worked many jobs there. He was a well-known musician and played for many of the socials and events held at Fort Concho. Elijah was a fiddler, he and his son, Ben played for all of the dances at the Fort. Elijah, born and remained a freeman, settled in San Angelo, Texas, and would learn the songs of the slave from ex-slaves now soldiers. Elijah would become the traditional bearer of these songs as he played fiddle, guitar, and sang. You can hear my podcast on his story here.
FULL NEW EPISODE FEATURING SHERLEY SPEARS
These, and much more crucial historic narratives are being preserved by Ms. Sherley Spears and the organizations adamant of raising the awareness of African American contributions to the establishment and sustainability of Fort Concho & San Angelo, Texas.