Flyboy in the Buttermilk: Essays on Contemporary America by Greg Tate

Flyboy in the Buttermilk cover

Author and Critic Greg Tate

Big props to Farrar, Straus, and Giroux and NetGalley for allowing me to preview an advanced copy of Greg Tate’s powerful collection of essays from the 80s and 90s Flyboy in the Buttermilk: Essays on Contemporary America. I’ve heard of Greg Tate, but I can’t believe I’ve never read anything by him up until now. Reading the three introductions by Questlove, Henry Louis Gates Jr, and Hanif Abdurraqib provided some great context for understanding not only Greg Tate’s interests and subjects for his writing, but also his vast influence on music, popular culture, and writing in general. While the introductions are awesome, they don’t entirely capture the breadth of Tate’s interests captured by the essays in this book. Whether it’s funk, pop music, hip hop, reggae, art, literature, sci-fi, or movies, Tate’s writing clearly and enthusiastically shows his passion for these arts and more importantly, his emphasis on promoting artists uplifts many Black voices that were often silenced or relegated to the underground at the expense of more mainstream pop acts and artists. Tate’s collection is the kind of book that requires some notetaking to follow up on the many different references, albums, songs, and titles he champions, and I’m so appreciative for it.

One of my favorite elements of this book is Tate’s unique voice in his writing. I absolutely loved his writing, especially about music. The only music writers/critics I could liken him to are Lester Bangs and Greil Marcus, who are both passionate and emphatic champions and critics of music they like and dislike; however, Tate also has his own unique register, adding elements of funk and hip-hop to his writing that emphasize his own distinct voice in criticism. I noticed that this approach changes somewhat when he writes about literature and politics in the latter sections of the book. However, the first section that focuses primarily on his writings about music is so much fun to read; I can only imagine Tate reading these essays out loud. Furthermore, I was amazed to read phrases and lingo Tate uses in his early 80s essays that are still in use today. I think this speaks to not only Tate’s influence, but also his close ear and understanding of culture.

Although this book was originally published in 1992, it’s still completely relevant today. In fact, I was surprised to see how much Tate’s writing about African American literature and history was relevant to my undergraduate studies, which again made me wonder why Tate wasn’t included in any of the anthologies or required reading lists from my professors. Whether it’s discussing the battles between Black leadership in the early 1900s in the quest for either assimilation or equality or the burdens of Black writers and artists to represent culture or to capitalize on the larger market for white audiences, Tate’s writing remains relevant and trenchant, focusing on important considerations for Black culture, artists, writers, and America in general. I double checked my Norton Anthology of African American Literature edited by Gates Jr. just to see if Tate was included in my 1997 edition, but he was not. I hope that Gates Jr. has eventually included Tate in either subsequent editions or other anthologies since I feel like Tate’s approach to many of the canonical texts and arguments from African American literature and history is such a unique, relevant, and engaging voice that challenges readers to question and rethink their understandings of these texts, figures, and events.

The book is divided into three sections. Part One focuses on music criticism, Part Two focuses mostly on literary and art criticism, and Part Three focuses on current events and politics, mostly from the late 1980s and early 1990s in New York. My favorite section was the music criticism section, which was also the longest section in the book. This section is where we see not just the breadth of Tate’s interests (Funk, Jazz, Blues, Rock, Hip-Hop, House), but also the depths of these interests that Tate is willing to pursue to further untangle and share with his audience. I loved how much he writes about Miles Davis, especially reevaluating the electric and later stages of Miles’ career, looking at Miles’ role as not just a Black artist, but an American force of culture who reshaped art and popular music by pursuing his own passions and interests. Tate also explores areas in Jazz that fragmented in the 1960s and 70s, examining the kind of schisms that created paths for standard bearers like the Marsalis family and the paths that diverged to other space ways and areas carved out by avant-garde and free jazz artists. It’s an issue about Black art that re-appears throughout Tate’s book in different forms including fine art vs. graffiti, R & B vs. Pop Music (Prince and Michael Jackson), and literature (Amiri Baraka). Tate seems to update DuBois’s notion of the veil but situates it in the context of American popular culture and the cultural marketplace of the latter 20^th century, where an artist’s existence is sometimes dependent on an audience. One of Tate’s targets is Michael Jackson, whose most popular albums Thriller and Bad, Tate criticizes for their emptiness and pursuit of mass audiences at the expense of the kind of soulfulness or artistic integrity that are apparent in other Black contemporary artists of Michael’s time. My favorite pieces, though, were focused on Public Enemy, whose music from the late 80s and 90s is such an integral part of my life. Tate’s writing about Public Enemy is so accurate and fun, and he captures the energy and power of the band’s sound and vision and how it helped to shape and redirect the hip-hop scene into something more conceptual rather than commercial.

Although Section Three deals with events from NYC in the late 80s and early 90s, I was surprised to see how relevant Tate’s analyses and criticisms are for today. Furthermore, since I was younger and not living in the NYC area at the time, I wasn’t as familiar with the murders of Michael Griffith in Howard Beach or Yusef Hawkins in Bensonhurst, except from the references from PE. Tate critically examines these incidents and contextualizes them along with the Central Park Five injustice to criticize the press, the police, and leadership at all levels for allowing racial violence and intolerance to continue to fester in the city. Even though Tate’s book was originally published nearly 35 years ago, his critiques and observations are still relevant and on point. While I have many annotations throughout the book, the last essay “Love and the Enemy” has a particular quote at its end that surprised me with its relevance and prescience. The essay is powerful in its message of love for and in the African American community, in which Tate calls out white supremacy for fomenting hate among African Americans. He cites both Malcolm X and Bob Marley as calling for love for self rather than the love and desire for the oppressor. For Tate, these power structures enable people to ignore systemic inequalities because they are more concerned individual status. “When reactive rage is the dominant form of our politics, when it takes police or mob violence to galvanize us into reaction, it means that there is an acceptable level of suffering and misery.” I’m not saying this is still true, but I think it’s a powerful quote that should move all people to recognize that the fight and struggle continues today as politics and culture remain reactive rather than accepting or accommodating. This is an incredible and important collection of essays, and I’m so glad that it is being republished. I can only hope that Greg Tate’s voice reaches more eyes and ears as a result of this new edition, and people can learn to appreciate the critical eye and humor in his work. Even though the essays are between 35-45 years old, they are still relevant, prescient, observant, critical, and engaging. Highly recommended!