At the historic Howard Theater recently, Joy Oladokun got personal and vulnerable with the sold-out audience. Before coming back for a full-band electric set, she got the evening started with an intimate solo acoustic set.
As the daughter of Nigerian immigrants and a queer person, Oladokun often feels like an outsider. Growing up in a highly religious environment — a spirituality that still comes through in her music — she often felt like she didn’t belong. Living in Nashville now, she said, “this job makes me feel used and sad.” That’s the theme of her latest record, Observations From A Crowded Room, which came out last year.
As an artist working an oeuvre that’s not quite country, but is adjacent to it, it’s easy to understand her feeling like this. Much of that genre — and American popular music in general — is built on the foundations laid by Black people. While those contributions are foundational, the artists themselves have often been overlooked, hidden in the background, and not rewarded for their contributions. This is doubly true of Black women, as the country establishment pushes all women to the fringes. The celebrated songwriter Alice Randall details these contributions and how they’ve been marginalized in her recent memoir, My Black Country. (For more on the marginalization of women more generally, I strongly recommend Marissa Moss’s Her Country.)
Stream Observations from a Crowded Room by Joy Oladokun on Spotify:
“I’m opening these shows,” Joy said at the Howard Theatre on Feb. 7, “not because I’m cheap or obsessed with myself.” Rather, she wanted to take the opportunity to present her new songs in the proper context, and then just come out and rock with her band. “Sometimes,” she said, “when you’re standing on a platform made of various materials, people can forget you’re human.” She remarked on “how casually cruel people can be” and “needing to find a safe place.”
Joy started her set with “The Hard Way,” followed by “Somebody Like Me.” Introducing “Strong Ones,” she mentioned how she tried to sample forgotten black artists. After “Questions, Chaos, & Faith,” she finished with a song she doesn’t usually play “because I had a traumatic experience,” “I See America.” The song is a reaction to the murder of George Floyd, and to the unending cycle of violence against Black People in America. She mentioned how she was born during the riots in Los Angeles that followed the not guilty verdicts in the trials of the police officers who beat Rodney King, and how it feels like nothing has changed. Unexpectedly, she made this into a medley with “Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit;” her rendition reminded me of Patti Smith’s, which I recently heard again.
Watch Joy Oladokun perform “I See America” live on YouTube:
The larger portion of the show, an electric set with full band, was no less piercing and affecting. Oladokun began with “Am I,”followed by “If You Got A Problem” which she called “a Bill Withers rip-off.” I wouldn’t be so harsh about the song, but it’s clear she’s working in the same tradition of soul-folk music.
The set continued with “Taking Things For Granted,” followed by “Smoke,” then “Jordan,” which is perhaps the clearest expression of her Christian upbringing, full of images taken from the Bible. She also played “Sweet Symphony;” on her album, she is joined in a duet by country megastar, Chris Stapleton, whose soulful singing beautifully complements her own. After “Changes,” she sang “No Country,” which was inspired by her statement’s that “Black people have no country,” as well as her reflections on James Baldwin, who made similar comments.
Joy rounded out the set with a medley “Black Car” and “Blackbird,” “I’d Miss The Birds,” and “lookup,” finishing with “Dust/Divinity.” The evening was a profoundly moving, spiritual experience, with Joy wearing her heart on her sleeve. With beautiful songs and incredible voice, these songs, along with their context, were incredibly powerful.
