Lomax and Lead Belly's
thousand hours of music
changed the blues,
and it changed rock 'n' roll.
- You want to take your boots off?
- Yeah. Ouch!
Nixon thinks he'll get reelected
if he deports John and Yoko.
- Ono.
- Oh, yes.
Sam Cooke is, like, going on tour.
They go to his motel.
- Motel, hotel.
- Holiday Inn!
You blacker than I thought, Derek.
I got my eye on you.
- I'm gonna put it on.
- What a great character choice.
- Yeah. Thought so too.
- Giddy-up.
Giddy-up.
Hello.
My name is Preston Flagg.
I'm gonna do a story
about Lead Belly and Lomax.
It's about the blues.
Story begins in the South,
in the 1930s.
African-Americans are suffering
from Jim Crow segresa...
segregation.
And out of that suffering
comes the blues.
So, we've got white,
Harvard-educated John Lomax,
and this guy's a folklorist.
He's like, hey,
I love regional music.
You know, I love
little cultures that I see.
I don't want them
to fall wayside.
So he was going around
with this clunky device
trying to preserve this music
for the Library of Congress.
And so he ended up, in 1933,
at Angola Prison,
and he's recording these chain gangs
and then all of a sudden
hears this guy:
♪ In the pines, in the pines ♪
♪ There's my girl ♪
And he's like,
f*ck these chain gangs.
I mean, I respect y'all,
but, hey, I gotta, you know.
So he goes over there.
And he's like, who is this?
And the prison warden's like,
Huddie Ledbetter.
We know him as Lead Belly,
the king of the 12-string guitar.
- Hmm.
- So, Lomax goes,
Man, you're a musical savant.
You're f*ckin' Mozart.
H-he knows he has a diamond
in the rough here.
So, a year goes by.
Lead Belly gets out of prison
and contacted Lomax and was like,
hey, I'm out of prison.
I need a job.
Can you help me?
And Lomax is like, oh, my God,
this is a f*ckin' musical genius.
And he's like,
yeah, you're hired.
Bring your guitar.
And then Lead Belly was like,
already done.
Already done.
And Lead Belly's like,
what am I gonna do?
And he's like, uh,
you're gonna drive me.
You're my chauffeur.
So they set off
on this three-month tour
all across the South,
and they stopped, you know,
in South Carolina and say,
hey, we want to record
your, you know, pocket of music.
And then Lead Belly
would get out and be like,
yeah, I'm the driver,
and I'm also the best
motherfuckin' musician
that you've ever seen
and the best singer,
so here we go, no pressure.
And Lead Belly was always...
f*ckin' stole the show.
So, Lomax is like,
Ching, Ching, Ching.
That's the cash register.
Hey, let me be your manager.
I get a third, you get a third,
and my son, Alan Lomax,
gets a third.
And Lead Belly I think
was happy for the work
for his time and was like,
yeah, okay, cool.
So, Lomax would set up these gigs
at f*ckin' Yale and Harvard.
So he gives a little speech:
I've been recording
all these things,
and this is the best
that I've ever seen.
I want to present to you Lead Belly.
- Who's Lead Belly?
- Yeah, Lead Belly.
- Who's Lead Belly?
- Lead Belly is the best guitarist.
- Prove it.
- The... I'm about to prove it.
- Less talky, more bluesy.
- Here we go. Lead Belly!
And then he would perform
in prison clothes,
and he was kind of upset
about it
because it painted him
as a dangerous figure.
And he's like, I'm out of prison,
I'm trying to move on.
But, uh, he f*ckin' kills it.
And he looks out in the audience,
and he realizes,
they've never seen
a f*ckin' cornfield in their life.
I-I'm not singing this sh*t
for these guys or whatever.
I gotta do this
for my f*ckin' self.
- You want to take your boots off?
- Yeah.
- You want me to help you?
- Yeah.
Oh, come on. Oh.
Dig!
Oh, come on.
♪ My girl! ♪
Ouch!
- Keep going.
- All right, come on.
Here I go.
- I love that he's laughing.
All right.
So, after those performances,
Lead Belly would go
to the black communities
and play and he'd go,
f*ckin' finally.
I'm playing for people
that understand me.
I'm gonna play songs
that my granddaddy played,
and guess what,
I'm just gonna be myself.
Stomp your... come on!
Come on!
And let's pick a little bit.
And let's stomp and let's pick.
Let's stomp, and let's pick.
And he'd get drunk all night
and then come back in the day,
and Lomax would be like,
hey, tonight,
we have a, um,
story for you to play
for the Harvard Wayfarers.
And he'd be like, I don't give
a f*ck about them. I'm drunk.
I'm the only reason
that people are here.
I want my money.
And they said no,
and he pulled his Kn*fe.
- Whoa.
- And he said, hey, man,
dude, you're not f*ckin' worth
the breath that I breathe.
Come on.
Giddy-up.
Get out of here, guy.
And Lomax apparently
was very uncomfortable
with the throat-to-the-Kn*fe
situation
and sent him back on a bus
with $300 in his pocket.
Get lost. 300 bucks.
See you. Bye.
And they never talked again, ever.
Lead Belly and Lomax
only worked with each other
for six months,
but then, years later,
their thousand hours of music
was released.
And it changed music forever.
It changed R&B,
it changed the blues,
and it changed rock 'n' roll.
These recordings really
inspired, uh, everybody.
And it's funny when I say that,
but it's real.
Preston?
- Pres, you good?
- No, I'm good.
All right, let's tell
the story, come on.
We got it.
That was great.
- We already got it?
- Mm-hmm.
No, let's do another one.
Hello. I'm Suzi Barrett, and today,
we're talking about John Lennon
and Yoko Ono.
The first dreamers.
- Ono.
- Oh, yes.
Okay, our story begins in 1972,
in the magical land of New York City.
Greenwich Village.
Ha-cha-cha.
Everybody hates Vietnam.
Everybody's making a stink.
And who's at the center
of that stink?
John Lennon and Yoko Ono.
They are young lovers
creating f*ckin' art,
so John and Yoko have been
here on a tourist visa.
But suddenly,
Ba-boof!
You got denied.
And they're like,
what... what, what, what?
And their lawyer is like,
you guys have to get hooked up
with Leon Wilds.
He is the sh*t of immigration.
And Leon Wilds comes
to meet them, and he's like,
yeah, yeah, yeah,
what do we got here?
What's your case?
And, you know, they're like,
we want to stay,
we want to keep
making the solo projects,
you know, where, like,
we scream into a telephone
and play a baby backwards,
and he's like, what?
What are you talking about?
He's like, oh, well,
you know, I'm John Lennon
and this is Yoko Ono,
and he's like, yeah,
what are you talking about?
- Never heard of 'em.
- Never heard of them.
He doesn't know any Beatles songs,
but somehow, he keeps referencing.
He's like, hey, look, kids.
You know, I-I don't know
who the Boodles are,
but, look, I-I want
to hold your hand
through this case,
you know what I mean?
I want to... to get you
to the end of this.
She loves you.
Yeah? Yeah? Yeah?
- You f*ck.
- So, please, please me by letting me
take your case, you know?
I-I'll please you.
It's... hmm.
- Mm.
- You okay?
Great. I just dumped liquid
on my Mic by accident.
- It's okay. It's okay.
- Thank you.
All right, so, Leon Wilds
uses a secret little trick,
the Freedom of Information Act.
Anyone can give a key word
to the clerks of Washington
and they return any files or papers
or whatever that have
that word in it.
So he's like,
a-tippy-tippy-tap, a-Lennon,
a-doop-a-doop-a-doop, Ono.
And months and months
and months later,
he's like, well,
lookee what we have here.
This letter from Strom Thurmond,
the f*ckin' assh*le
South Carolina senator,
to Nixon's attorney general
John Mitchell,
being like,
get rid of this Lennon guy!
He's trying to convince young people
that it's not a good idea
to send other young people
to die in Vietnam.
What is up with that?
So Leon's like, Nixon thinks
he'll get reelected
if he deports Nixon?
No.
Nixon thinks he'll get reelected
if he deports Lennon?
Holy sh*t.
So, October 8th, 1975.
John and Yoko are at the 2nd
Circuit Court of Appeals
getting kicked out of the country.
The gavel's just about to go down,
and the doors to the court room open.
And Leon Wilds is like,
f*ckin' Strom Thurmond
and Richard Nixon had it out for them,
simply because they wanted
to give peace a chance.
And they agreed.
They were already here.
They were enjoying their lives.
And we, the court,
will not condone
selective deportation.
So put that
in your f*ckin' fart machines,
you f*ckin' fart makers.
So they win.
They get to stay.
- ♪ Back in the USSA! ♪
- Hey!
So this is an important story
because, oh, my God.
- Derek.
- Suzi.
Would you like to travel
into the future?
- Okay. Oh.
- Here. Hold this.
- Okay.
- This 1 1/3 lime. And...
Suddenly, it's 37 years later.
June 15th, 2012.
Barack Obama makes
the most amazing speech,
announcing DACA,
the Deferred Action
for Childhood Arrivals,
saying, uh, anyone who's here
who has been here,
I don't care how you got here,
you get to stay here.
We want you here.
We love you here.
You're here. The end.
Bye. Barack Obama.
Meaning, people who are here
in America
who didn't choose to be here,
if you're not causing problems,
you're part of our society already,
you get to stay,
and these children
are called the Dreamers.
And the fun little accidental tidbit
is that Obama is using
John Lennon's case
- as a precedent.
- As a president.
Oh, boy. As a president,
he's using it as a precedent.
- Yeah.
- Yeah.
Brian, how does your jacket
look on me?
- No.
- Okay.
But you gotta zip it
all the way up to the top
'cause that, like, yeah.
That's what freshness look like.
Hell, yeah.
- Give me that hat.
- Oh. Oh, God. Yeah?
And now you know
what appropriation looks like.
- There you are.
- That's appropriate.
You're so white.
Hey! America.
I'm Brian Tyree Henry.
We about to talk about
"A Change Is Gonna Come,"
sang by motherfuckin' Sam Cooke.
Get into this sh*t.
So...
our story starts in nineteen
sixty-motherfuckin'-three,
the era of fuckery for black
people in this country.
We've been dealing
with Jim Crow and sh*t.
And at the same time, we still
dominating the music scene.
We've been giving you,
like, the Supremes,
we been giving you the Temptations,
we been giving you,
like, Otis Redding.
And so one of the people
that was dominating
the music scene
in the biggest way
was Sam motherfuckin' Cooke.
So Sam was known as a soul singer,
but now he had crossed over
to pop music,
so at this point,
Sam Cooke is like,
going on tour, and, like,
he's riding on his bus,
so he has this dude
named J.W. Alexander.
So J.W. Alexander's like, yo.
I don't need you to, like,
lose your mind right now,
but you know
what we going through
right now with the civil rights sh*t.
There's a white dude out there
that put out this song
that's, like, kind of, like,
changing the world, bro.
So J-Dubs lays this track down.
And it's Bobby Dylan singing
"Blowin' in the Wind."
And Sammy listens
to this sh*t like, wait.
Stop. Wait. Stop.
Hold up. n*gga, stop.
This song is dope, first of all,
but this white dude is singing
about everything that me
as a black man is feeling,
going through this bullshit.
I have to believe
I can do better than that.
So he, like, picks up a ukulele,
'cause he got a ukulele
on his bus for some reason.
- Sam Cooke?
- Sam Cooke has a ukulele.
- f*ckin' Jack Johnson.
- Who the f*ck is that?
- I knew you wouldn't get that.
- Do you know anything about Zhané?
JonBenét?
- Yeah, I think the brother did it.
- R&B...
Change is gonna come.
So he picks up his ukulele
and he's like,
oh, man,
what is this song gonna be?
What's this song gonna be?
♪ Ugh! ♪
♪ Do something that's gonna
talk about real sh*t ♪
♪ What black struggle is like ♪
♪ Ha! ♪
He just wasn't...
it just wasn't...
he couldn't figure it out.
And so he had a stop
in Shreveport, Louisiana.
So, like, he's driving through
Louisiana in the '60s, man.
He's, like, seeing, like,
colored only, white only.
So he go to this motel,
'cause, you know,
black people couldn't go
to hotels, just the motels.
- Motel, hotel.
- Holiday Inn!
You blacker than I thought, Derek.
Like, you actually been...
I got my eye on you.
All right, anyway.
So he's checking in with everyone.
He's got his, like, entourage.
And he's like, ding, ding, ding,
Sam Cooke is here.
So of course,
this white person's back there
eating, like,
white potato salad and sh*t.
And so he's like, yeah?
Sam is like, I'm checking in.
Sam Cooke.
Like, mm, let me check,
let me check,
let me check through the file.
Nothing here.
And he's like, what're you
talking about?
I'm Sam Cooke.
You're literally...
like, my song is on the radio
right there.
The... the person behind
the counter's like, pfft.
I don't care, you just look
like a colored boy to me.
So Sam is like, no, this n*gga didn't!
So he's like, his entourage
is trying to get him together.
And his wife rolls up.
Sam's amazing wife Barbara.
Like, she's like,
bae, stop, bae.
They don't care that you Sam Cooke.
Look at that f*ckin' bland-ass
potato salad he's eating.
You black.
We in Louisiana.
They'll k*ll your ass.
Calm down.
Breathe, bae.
Bae, breathe.
Bae.
He's like, bae, you right.
And she's like, bae, I know.
But at this point, the attendant
already called the cops.
So the cops are already there.
They're like, hey.
We hear that there's Negroes
in here causing trouble,
and the attendant's like,
them, right there.
Like, with the spoon,
with the potato salad.
Right there, there, causing trouble.
Who f*cked with you
that had potato salad?
You don't understand!
Bland-ass potato salad is
a cause for a riot in my life.
If that sh*t isn't yellow,
there's no eggs in that bitch,
there ain't no relish, if there ain't
no motherfuckin'...
like, get out of my house.
Anyway. So, of course, they
put all these dudes in jail,
and so Sam is, like, sitting
there, and he's like,
damn, I still ain't finished
this song, though.
Damn. Even though I'm Sam
Cooke, that don't mean sh*t.
They'll still throw me in jail,
and they embarrass me
in front of Babs?
Something's gotta change, man.
Something's gotta change.
Boom!
He's like, sh*t.
A change gonna come.
A change gonna come.
So he starts writing the song in jail.
Like, he was like, damn, man,
I was born in a tent.
I wasn't even in a house.
Like, I was by a river,
you know what I'm saying?
And that's how it starts.
♪ I was born by the river! ♪
♪ In a little tent!
Oh! ♪
Oh, my God, like, this is the one.
This... this is the sh*t!
A change is gonna come.
So he gets out of jail
and finishes the song,
and then, on February 7th, 1964,
he goes on the "Tonight Show
With Johnny Carson,"
to debut his masterpiece called
"A Change Is Gonna Come."
These white people,
they're going crazy.
Sam is like, yes.
You, a change gonna come.
You, a change gonna come.
You know a change gonna come.
Sam Cooke.
But then, like, two days later,
the f*ckin' Beatles
performed their new single
on Ed Sullivan whatever show.
And so, like, the Beatles
kind of stole the thunder
from Sam, and Sam is like,
f*ck! Again, it happened.
Another f*ckin' white man
stole my shine.
So, you know, he decides
to, like, go out.
So he meets this chick
named Elisa Boyer.
She had a reputation...
she was like,
I can get any man I want,
'cause, you know, look at this.
I'm fine,
and what I do is Elisa Boyer.
So here we are
at yet another motel,
and they do what they do.
They rolling in the sack,
and she's like, oh, my God,
a change gonna come.
He's like, yeah,
a change gonna come.
A change is gonna come!
And so, fine.
Anyway...
Anyway, oh, Sam, forgive me.
I'm so sorry, excuse me. So...
Sam is at a motel.
Like, he's got... he's...
- What was that?
- I don't know.
Hopes. Dreams.
And he...
So anyway,
Sam Cooke is in the bathroom,
like, you know, just showering off.
And so Elisa Boyer snatches
all his stuff and runs off.
And, like, Sam opens
the bathroom door like, naked,
just standing there,
and he's like,
"No, she didn't.
Did she really?"
So Sam throws on a trench coat.
He goes to the lobby.
And, like,
he's running around,
and, like, the hotel manager,
like, she sees this dude
in a trench coat
and he's like, hey,
did you see this... this chick
come in with my stuff?
I'm sitting here in a trench coat.
My balls are out.
And she's like, ah, penis!
Oh, my God!
He's like, no, no,
I'm Sam Cooke.
Like, chill out, I'm Sam Cooke.
And then she just, like,
sh**t him.
Like, just, like, sh**t him.
And his last words,
his last words, were,
"Lady, you sh*t me."
And that's it!
He's out!
And the sad part
about the whole thing is,
is that he couldn't even see
the success
of what "Change Is Gonna Come"
has had, because, like,
after he d*ed,
"Change Is Gonna Come,"
like, skyrocketed, became, like...
it became the song
of the civil rights movement.
Like, that song was playing,
it gave black people hope,
and it is still relevant.
God damn it!
It just really let you know
the pain that, like,
we have gone through.
Like, damn, being black
in this country is so hard.
It's just so stupid.
Change needs to come.
You know where change
comes, Derek?
I'm getting reparations right now
because I got your white ass
to buy me liquor.
The change has already started, man.
- Like, so, cheers to us.
- Amen.
- Change is gonna come.
- Cheers. Thank you, Sam.
- I love you.
- I love you, Brian.
- I really love you.
- I love you for sentimental reasons.
- Now I'm tingling.
- That was a Sam Cooke song.
Oh, was it?
I knew that.
Mm.
Oh, f*ck.
06x10 - Legacies
Watch/Buy Amazon
"Drunk History" is presented by an inebriated narrator struggling to recount events from American history, while A-list talent perform historical reenactments.
"Drunk History" is presented by an inebriated narrator struggling to recount events from American history, while A-list talent perform historical reenactments.