Aural History: Deep Roots, Deep Feelings, and Deeper Music: The Overlooked Sensation of Black Psychedelia

While originally catered to the white psychonaut, much of psychedelia’s lasting influence on music was built upon a history of Black creativity and influence.

Written by Micaela Garza

Photo courtesy of Laurent Sazy

Psychedelic substances have always been a part of the ritualistic practices of indigenous tribes across the globe. Peyote cacti, containing mescaline, is used by the Navajo Nation in spiritual practice; Ayahuasca, containing N,N-Dimethyltryptamine (otherwise known as DMT), has been consistently utilized by South American civilizations; and the hallucinogenic iboga shrub is a staple of tribal practice in West Africa. Despite people of color across the world having had psychedelic experiences built into their DNA for thousands of years, it’s quite striking to recognize that the pioneers of the modern psychedelic movement — especially in the realm of scientific research — were white men. 

When talking about psychedelics, figureheads in science include the likes of Terrance McKenna and Timothy Leary. On the cultural end, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, and Grateful Dead are icons of the movement. However, our culture often fails to remember several notable artists of color who contributed to psychedelic culture and its many subgenres. These artists are often overlooked when viewing psychedelia from the commercial lens, and they deserve the same recognition as their white peers for substantiating the tantalizing psychedelic sounds that music enthusiasts love. 

Time and time again, the music industry whitewashes Black music into something “marketable” and then immediately pushes Black artists to the side  — and this continual cycle is built into the fabric of American music culture. Psychedelic soul and psychedelic funk are two distinct creations by Black artists and were derived from the psychedelic rock popular in the 1960s. Key players in these genres include well-known solo artists Jimi Hendrix, Bootsy Collins, and Prince, but also contain a wide array of bands, ranging from Sly and the Family Stone and George Clinton’s Parliament-Funkadelic collective, to Motown members The Temptations and The Supremes. Because of the continuous experimental sounds these artists produced and the distinct story their music tells, a more appropriate name for the music would be Black psychedelia.

As the popularity of psychedelic rock died down at the end of the ‘60s, groups like the aforementioned Sly and The Family Stone decided to utilize cross-genre experimentation to their advantage and developed a defining, coordinated sound at the end of the decade that would be emulated throughout the ‘70s — even by other groups signed under the same label. Shortly after the chart success of Sly’s 1968 album Dance To The Music, producer Norman Whitfield began recreating a similar five piece formula with soul group The Temptations throughout the ‘70s. Hypnotic call and answer vocals between band members are sung over a polyrhythmic guitar-bass-organ combo following the lead of repetitive drum kits, with enthusiastic horns over top. 

Funk, like most Black music, draws roots from African tribal music, emphasizing rhythm over melody — in a way, it becomes a sensation of the body, something you can feel. The trance-like danceability of Black psychedelia provokes a physical ecstasy in its listeners, and that combined with the spiritual rapture of preaching soul vocalists over these tracks is something that was specific to the genre. This euphoric sensation was not felt in the popular psychedelia of the prior decade, which was rather made to be seen on stage (à la Pink Floyd laser lights) and heard on records.

Image courtesy of Epic Records

This viscerality is also fostered by the lyrical content of Black psychedelia, which emulates a sort of hallucinogenic trip itself. Moving from free-willing escapism in the beginning to deep introspection and raw emotion in the later years, the genre projected soul into a more vulnerable place for the rest of the decade. Black psychedelia began as highly political music, with songs like “War” by The Temptations becoming protest anthems and “Stand!” by Sly and The Family Stone urging communities to stand up for their rights, as an era of Black empowerment was ushered into the forefront of the ‘70s. The political sentiments of this music transformed into a reflection of the African American experience in the United States, heard on “Family Affair” and “Papa Was A Rollin’ Stone:”

“It was the third of September

That day I'll always remember, yes I will

'Cause that was the day that my daddy died

I never got a chance to see him

Never heard nothing but bad things about him

Mama, I'm depending on you to tell me the truth

Mama just hung her head…”

This brooding lens contrasts the introspection that comes with typical psychedelia, because it combines the tortured internal thought process with the harrowing reality of life. This is the real meat of Black psychedelia: the trip of life is both invigorating for creatives, but also fosters a raw, gritty pensiveness at the same time. 

With Parliament and Sly covering the psych-soul aspect of the era, outlandish music collective Funkadelic became known for the futuristic, hallucinogenic thematics surrounding their records, proving that escapism imagery was just as much a part of Black psychedelia as its commercial counterpart. Arguably the most famous track from their repertoire is the 10 minute-long song “Maggot Brain,” an eerily beautiful, somewhat tranquilizing piece that has maintained its inspirational status to decades of musicians. Even modern filmmakers, such as Gaspar Noé, continue to employ the song, featuring it at the climax of his 2015 film, Love. The sensuality of the song is a perfect specimen of the physical ecstasy Black psychedelia evokes. The short, futuristic prophecy spoken by George Clinton just before guitarist Eddie Hazel wails out his first notes takes listeners on a musical acid trip where becoming one with the universe feels attainable, if not necessary.

“Mother Earth is pregnant for the third time

For y'all have knocked her up

I have tasted the maggots in the mind of the universe

I was not offended

For I knew I had to rise above it all

Or drown in my own shit”

Photo courtesy of Consequence of Sound

The tone set by the artists of this era has been carried into modern music since its inception, with a number of Black artists since then transforming the sentiments behind the music into their own modern innovations. Prince carried on the tradition of psychedelic soul into the early ‘80s by adding a glamorous, purple filter to the once blue genre. The “Purple Rain” singer’s influence, paired with the rise of house music in mid-’80s Chicago, grew a new leaf from the roots of Black psychedelia. 

As hip-hop dominated the late ’80s, ‘90s, and 2000s, many artists drew from the psychedelic experience to produce their own decade-defining hits. Outkast released their 1996 “ATLiens” and followed up with the 1998 classic “Aquemini,” both harboring futuristic George Clinton-esque thematics. In 2013, Chance The Rapper released his mixtape “Acid Rap” to a high critical acclaim. Travis Scott continues to mix elements of psychedelic funk with psychedelic soul into his records,  most notably with the tracks “Stargazing” and “Coffee Bean” on his 2018 record Astroworld.  Additionally, chart-topping songs like Childish Gambino’s “Redbone” are still being labeled as psychedelic soul 50 years after the genre was created. 

Psychedelic music’s deep roots in the African American community have had long-lasting effects on the genre and popular music all around. So the next time you and your friends decide to do some trippy listening, reflect on the countless tracks that were created as a result of tribal rhythms and gospel sounds reaching the mainstream through Black psychonauts.

This article was added to Aural History after its publication, upon the creation of the Aural History series..