This was supposed to be a press release, but I didn’t like the tone.
Instead I wrote you a letter.
I’ve been reflecting on the social unrest of 2020 and I want to continue to have a conversation.
Could we continue to talk?
Hello,
My name is Jon Corbin. I am a Canadian underground Hip Hop artist who has spent the last 15+ years making soulful and substantive music. I play the occasional show, and I spend a lot of time creating. I have put out 15 projects over the years, including three full length albums.
I only play the occasional show because I am also a high school teacher and a father of five. That may be why your average Canadian music fan doesn’t know me too well. I’ve been spending my time teaching classes and raising babies. But I’ve also become a valuable part of the local music scene: supporting and mentoring artists, and encouraging creative expression in my classroom.
I am also Black (Black presenting mixed race to be exact) which means I see my worlds of education, music, neighbourhood, and even church, through a very unique lens.
Over the years I have tried to start conversations about how I see Black people being treated in these spaces, and have often been met with a mixture of hesitance, apathy and dismissal.
And then George Floyd’s death shook the world.
During 2020 I wrote two songs, Outcry and Amplify, both asking for the cries of hurting Black folks to be listened to in humility.
The cries grew even louder that summer, with thousands of feet taking to the streets in collective catharsis, drawing from a deep well of generational trauma.
In the months that followed, these voices could no longer be dismissed. For a brief moment, the world listened to Black voices — and then decided to amplify them.
But given the sheer number of world events in the last two years, these civil rights protests can seem like a distant memory. Lately, my heart has been stirring within me to recall. I am finally starting to talk to friends and colleagues about their lives during lockdown. I am looking at pictures of flooded streets with signs waving and fists raised. I am watching videos of crowds yelling slogans that became mantras through many rage-filled months.
There is a lot to still think about. I am learning that most people are still processing. And, in many cases, still grieving.
I too am processing — again with my unique lens — and I am not sure we as a society are taking time to fully reflect. Woefully, I am seeing the pace of life speeding up again. I am seeing our attention starting to be pulled in multiple directions. I am seeing inconsistent leadership in the effort to dismantle anti-Black racism, some whose posturing is now being exposed as ineffectual and hypocritical.
I decided to continue the discussion by making music.
I revisited my song Outcry, with friend and anti-racist educator Aubrey Noronha. With conviction, he reminded us to listen to the anger from Black communities, “as messy as it is.” I made a second version of Outcry with producer Johnny Bishop. We drew from Jazz, R&B and old school Hip Hop influences, getting incredible musicianship from guitarist Steven Dukes and pianist Matthew A. Thomas. It was humbling to be able to create space for Black musical excellence.
I revisited my song Amplify to include the cries from protestors. I also created a “Megaphone Remix” — a group song with four other rappers (Orijin, Es, Anthony Sawyers & Creo) sharing their perspectives on navigating the world while Black. What emerged was a beautiful demonstration of why a multitude of Black voices should be engaged. The five of us (just regular folks with a car and a job) provided five unique and stirring expressions. Each verse is filled with gem after gem that could enlighten and enliven our communities — if we are willing to listen.
It is precisely these voices that should be amplified: the everyday voices in our neighbourhoods that need space to bear witness to their joys and their pain.
So as you hear this music I hope that you are able to listen, learn and then amplify. There is further growth and connection awaiting all of us if we can do so.
Much love,
Jon