Gil Scott-Heron: 1949-2011

Gil Scott-Heron, who died over the weekend, is generally regarded as the father of rap, and although he never asked for a blood test, he always denied that he sired the form in any way. No, he wasn't a rapper. What Scott-Heron was, though, was a sociopolitically aware black rhythmic poet-performer who opened minds to alternative perspectives much like the mostly white hippie counterculture did in the late sixties and in the seventies. Scott-Heron offered the same critiques of straight America voiced by the liberal academic elite, such as his take on the space program in "Whitey on the Moon," nuclear power in "We Almost Lost Detroit," and, of course, mass media in his epic ode "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised." But while intellectuals critiqued America in polite terms that caused irritation, Scott-Heron's critiques drew blood. He did not ask you to talk to him so you could see what was going on; he was going to just come right out and show you.

Scott-Heron's free-form prose was a call to action, not just among the black community but among anyone who cared about America and didn't like where it was headed. This was especially true of his 1974 hit single, "The Bottle," a scathing attack on alcohol abuse in black urban neighborhoods. While Scott-Heron's work has lasted thanks in part to a sophisticated jazz syncopation in his work, it's also true, alas, that much of the subject matter he touched on is just as relevant today.

Much like Tracy Chapman with her 1988 hit "Talkin' 'Bout a Revolution," Scott-Heron predicted a time when the oppressed masses would rebel, but implicit in his work was that it wasn't going to happen out of the blue; people would actually have to get up and act, stand up and be counted. And when the American people finally act, the revolution still won't be televised - certainly not in a world where maybe only five men control the media. So you'd better be ready to start it rather than talk about it or wait for it to happen. R.I.P.