A Seat at the Table by Solange (Review)
[Originally Published on May 15, 2020]
As she sleepily drags herself into the studio for her interview with Questlove, it’s clear that Solange had been drankin last night. After everyone in the room shares unbridled laughter, Quest asks the Houston artist for her alcoholic beverage of choice. Her answer: tequila and red wine. This unlikely combination is the epitome of Solange: both unapologetically outspoken and coolly reflective. A Seat at the Table is autobiographical in the sense that its vivid imagery is captured through the lens of Solange’s personal experience of black womanhood. However, this album is marinated with a spectrum of the diverse perspectives contained within blackness. From Lawry’s to Adobo, there’s seasoning here for all of us.
Suspended by a simplistic percussive beat and complex background vocals, “Cranes in the Sky” discusses ways we often practice avoidance. Recalling her coping mechanisms for heartbreak and depression, Solange shares that she initially tried to “dance”, “drink”, and “sex” it away. She even bought new clothes and changed her hair, to no avail. She soon realizes that healing requires her to confront what underlies the pain—which also means facing other people’s perception of her
Among the many negative tropes associated with blackness is “the angry black woman.” Black women are often unfairly stereotyped as difficult, sassy, bitter, and downright unpleasant. If someone tried to typecast Solange as angry, she’d probably burn a hole into their forehead with her stare before bursting into laughter. On “Mad”, featuring Lil Wayne, Solange has a dialogue with a woman who wonders “Why you always blaming? Why you always gotta be so mad?” Black people are burdened with justifying anger that more privileged social groups would feel empowered to express. Just ask the white rioters who are protesting the coronavirus shutdown. You can picture Solange intellectually explaining the unequal treatment black people face on all levels of society, before adding that this conversation is actually a perfect example. As she looks at the blank-faced woman in front of her, she finally sighs, “I’m tired of explaining. Man, this shit is draining.”
The gorgeous “Don’t Touch My Hair” harkens back to overzealous coworkers and even friends who obsess over black women’s hair. Its kinkiness, deep curls, and plethora of textures and scents can be admired without being touched. Solange’s mane is flowered with hair rollers on the album cover. Because black women are often scrutinized in professional and academic arenas for the way their hair naturally grows, this can be considered a form of activism. She reveals the significance her hair holds to her: “the feelings I wear, my soul, my crown.” Featured artist Sampha’s voice is rare and hollow—and Solange’s voice fills it. Together they unbraid the decades of trauma nestled in their locks.
“F.U.B.U.” is a cultural reference to the clothing brand “For Us By Us” founded by black entrepreneur Daymond John. The brand caught fire in the late 90s and early 2000s, before it became the subject of ridicule in the black community. Because of the way we’re conditioned, we elevate huge brands such as Nike and Adidas and can often fail to see the vision of savvy black entrepreneurs who are working with little resources. Black people have disproportionately low business ownership, but black women are the fasting growing group of entrepreneurs. Viewing herself as a cultural entrepreneur, Solange bops her head and snaps at the table singing “For us, this shit is for us.”
A Seat at the Table, with its exceptional music and poetic interludes, is a soulful dissertation on black womanhood. On “Don’t You Wait”, Solange takes an afternoon drive through the suburbs with her windows down and music as loud as it can go. She affirms that she will not pander to the media critics or tone down her musical’s powerful messages to cater to the sensibilities of others. And if you’re waiting for her to apologize, you could be waiting for a minute.
