September 15th, 1963: The turning point for protest music
Using music as a means of protest has existed for well over a century. However, some of the most significant turning points occurred in the mid-20th century, particularly during the rise of the civil rights movement and the 1960s, when singer-songwriters used their voices as tools for change. Among these moments was one particularly dark day in 1963 when the entire world was turned upside down.
On September 15th, the Ku Klux Klan bombed the 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham, Alabama, resulting in the deaths of four young girls. The response among the music community was strong, with many choosing to use their platform to hoist their outrage among a world that was left frightened by the calamity of such cold actions.
During this time, protest music had evolved into something far more nuanced than the impassioned bellows of those who came before. As the ’60s saw the rise of converging poetic lyricism with important and charitable themes and messages, protest music became a more concrete and refined symbol of rallying for change, particularly in the civil rights movement, as artists came together to fight racial injustice.
Following the events in Alabama, this push reached new heights, with several artists coming forth with music that expressed their complete and utter disdain and disillusionment with the world in its current state. One such figure was, of course, the forerunner of societal progression herself, Nina Simone. Upon hearing of the events that unfolded that fateful night, Simone felt the same sickness shared by many others.
Throughout her career, Simone consistently spoke up about what she believed in and became a figurehead for protest music, knowing that there was little more powerful an artist could do to inspire change and unity in the face of racism. In her mind, her weapon was her word, and this was one instance in which she felt she couldn’t stay still.
However, her first instinct wasn’t to create music in response. Instead, she felt a rage so deep and powerful that she wanted to fight back the old-fashioned way. “When I heard about the bombing of the church in which the four little black girls were killed in Alabama, I shut myself up in a room, and that song happened,” she recalled.
Continuing: “Medgar Evers had been recently slain in Mississippi. At first, I tried to make myself a gun. I gathered some materials. I was going to take one of them out, and I didn’t care who it was. Then Andy, my husband at the time, said to me, ‘Nina, you can’t kill anyone. You are a musician. Do what you do.’ When I sat down, the whole song happened. I never stopped writing until the thing was finished.”
Almost as prophetic as another remark she made during her career about an artist’s duty reflecting the times, Simone’s resulting bite back was ‘Mississippi Goddam’, a furious outpour that carried the decades-long oppression of her and her peers. Written at the height of her emotional haze, the song was her most unflinching in her desire to get her point across: “Alabama’s gotten me so upset / Tennessee made me lose my rest / And everybody knows about Mississippi Goddam.”
Although slightly more restrained than Simone’s feverish attack, Joan Baez executed a similar heartfelt cry with the track ‘Birmingham Sunday’, expressing her upset from a more observational standpoint: “The clouds they were grey and the autumn wind blew / And Denise McNair brought the number to two / The falcon of death was a creature they knew / And the choirs kept singing of freedom.” Another that emerged just two months after the bombings was John Coltrane’s ‘Alabama’, an instrumental track dedicated to the victims, inspired by Martin Luther King Jr’s eulogy.
Although haunting in their unique ways, each knee-jerk reaction among the music community symbolised a major transition in socially conscious music, with many realising the power of art to express shock and urge others to come together during difficult times. Although far from a cure-all, music became viewed more as a necessary response to tragedy, enabling artists to use it as an urgent call for equality and justice.
The ’60s are hailed as the golden age of protest music, and while many artists had expressed their displeasure through music in previous decades—like Billie Holiday’s ‘Strange Fruit’ in 1939—1963 galvanised many singer-songwriters into action. This shift wasn’t just about direct responses to political or societal disasters; it also led artists to pour more authentic thoughts and emotions into their music, making their messages even more powerful.
Paralleling this was a move towards confessional and thought-provoking lyricism that urged more listeners and artists to hold up a mirror to society. With more artists feeling the need to address and incorporate socially aware storytelling, music became central to the era’s activism, integrating more holistically into social movements like civil rights in deeper and more meaningful ways than ever before. Although rooted in tragedy and oppression, these songs proved the power of music to inspire hope, strengthening the pursuit of equality for all those involved.
