Between 1920 and 1940, "race records" were recordings by Black artists marketed exclusively to Black audiences. At the time, Black singers and musicians performed every genre, but racism and white control of the industry guaranteed that hardly any of these performances were recorded. When the advent of radio threw the music industry into turmoil, the industry suddenly needed us.
Record labels exploited, cheated, and underpaid Black artists. Traveling scouts roamed around the South and recorded local artists, using their uncredited talent to enrich themselves.
Big Bill Broonzy, a former sharecropper, fled racial terror in the Jim Crow South. When he found himself in a Chicago recording studio, he thought he'd made it. Despite recording more than 200 songs between the 1920s and 1940s, he died with little to show for it. He wasn't alone.
In the 1920s, the Empress of Blues, Bessie Smith, made millions for Columbia Records. She was the highest-paid Black entertainer of her time, but earned only $200 per recording and no royalties. This kind of exploitation is bigger than racism. The history of race records shows us that underlying systemic power—not just racism—has always been at play.
When we know our past, we can strategize in the present, especially when it comes to taking ownership of our creative and intellectual property. We deserve to profit from and build legacies from our labor, not anyone else.