Can you believe somebody asked me why THE BLUES still matters?
Before I answer that, we need to get clear on something.
What the hell are you talking about when you say "the blues"?
Because depending on what you mean, the question doesn't even make sense.
Are you talking about the blues as Black people's voice finally being recorded and preserved? Is that what you mean?
If so, why wouldn't that matter?
Why wouldn't the voice of the people who helped shape American music matter?
Why wouldn't the stories, struggles, humor, heartbreak, resilience, and creativity of Black folks matter?
Or maybe you're talking about what people think the blues is—emotion, hardship, joy, loss, survival, love gone wrong, hope hanging on by a thread.
Well hell, that's life.
Nobody gets through this world without some version of that story.
So if that's what you mean, asking why the blues matters is like asking why human experience matters.
And I sure hope you're not asking whether Black contributions to American culture matter.
Because if we're being honest, you can't tell the story of American music without Black people.
No blues. No rock and roll.
No blues. No country as we know it.
No blues. No soul, no rhythm and blues, no hip-hop, no jazz.
Take the blues out of the American story and whole chapters disappear.
So when somebody asks me why the blues still matters, I have to ask them what the hell exactly they're questioning.
The music?
The people?
The stories?
The emotions?
The history?
Because every one of those things is still here.
People still hurt.
People still love.
People still struggle.
People still overcome.
People still need a voice.
And that's all the blues ever was.
A voice.
A way to tell the truth when the truth was hard to tell.
A way to turn pain into art.
A way to remind people they weren't suffering alone.
So if that question matters, then THE BLUES matters.
Because as long as people are living life, the blues ain't going anywhere.