Dr. D. Elisabeth Glassco
@deglasscophd.bsky.social
Professor and Public Historian l PhD History and Sociology of American Media. Specialization: Political Culture, Race, and Class, University of Maryland Eastern Shore. NO JUSTICE NO PEACE >> BLACK LIVES MATTER.
That’s what Davis was saying. He wasn’t gatekeeping. He was naming a pattern. A rhythm passed down. A sound shaped by centuries. If you’d lived close enough to it, you felt it humming beneath the floor.
9/12
Image: Mississippi John Hurt, circa. 1950s, Photographer Unknown.
9/12
Image: Mississippi John Hurt, circa. 1950s, Photographer Unknown.
June 1, 2025 at 7:18 PM
That’s what Davis was saying. He wasn’t gatekeeping. He was naming a pattern. A rhythm passed down. A sound shaped by centuries. If you’d lived close enough to it, you felt it humming beneath the floor.
9/12
Image: Mississippi John Hurt, circa. 1950s, Photographer Unknown.
9/12
Image: Mississippi John Hurt, circa. 1950s, Photographer Unknown.
When Miles played, he wasn’t just performing. He was remembering. Late nights. Dope sickness. Paris. East St. Louis. Velvet suits. The women who stayed. The ones who left. The sound of a world cracking—and the resolve to keep playing anyway.
8/12
8/12
June 1, 2025 at 7:17 PM
When Miles played, he wasn’t just performing. He was remembering. Late nights. Dope sickness. Paris. East St. Louis. Velvet suits. The women who stayed. The ones who left. The sound of a world cracking—and the resolve to keep playing anyway.
8/12
8/12
White musicians could learn the chords. They could swing. But many were reaching for something that Black musicians already carried. In that difference—barely a breath long—was inheritance. Not superiority. Not exclusion. Just memory.
7/12
7/12
June 1, 2025 at 7:15 PM
White musicians could learn the chords. They could swing. But many were reaching for something that Black musicians already carried. In that difference—barely a breath long—was inheritance. Not superiority. Not exclusion. Just memory.
7/12
7/12
Because blues isn’t just a genre. Jazz isn’t just a style. They’re languages born of survival—of migration, loss, prayer, and defiance. Even those who hadn’t suffered directly had grown up inside the sound. Davis had. He played from the inside.
6/12
6/12
June 1, 2025 at 7:12 PM
Because blues isn’t just a genre. Jazz isn’t just a style. They’re languages born of survival—of migration, loss, prayer, and defiance. Even those who hadn’t suffered directly had grown up inside the sound. Davis had. He played from the inside.
6/12
6/12
That difference, Davis seemed to say, wasn’t about skill. It wasn’t about talent. It was about memory. Not the kind in your head—but the kind in your fingertips. In your hips. In the silence between phrases. Embodied memory. Cultural memory. Black memory.
5/12
5/12
June 1, 2025 at 7:08 PM
That difference, Davis seemed to say, wasn’t about skill. It wasn’t about talent. It was about memory. Not the kind in your head—but the kind in your fingertips. In your hips. In the silence between phrases. Embodied memory. Cultural memory. Black memory.
5/12
5/12
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Then he said something quieter, sharper: white musicians played “behind the beat.” Four words. Not a critique, not even a judgment—just a truth. The beat wasn’t just rhythm. It was breath. It was swing. It was something lived, not taught.
4/12
Then he said something quieter, sharper: white musicians played “behind the beat.” Four words. Not a critique, not even a judgment—just a truth. The beat wasn’t just rhythm. It was breath. It was swing. It was something lived, not taught.
4/12
June 1, 2025 at 7:06 PM
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Then he said something quieter, sharper: white musicians played “behind the beat.” Four words. Not a critique, not even a judgment—just a truth. The beat wasn’t just rhythm. It was breath. It was swing. It was something lived, not taught.
4/12
Then he said something quieter, sharper: white musicians played “behind the beat.” Four words. Not a critique, not even a judgment—just a truth. The beat wasn’t just rhythm. It was breath. It was swing. It was something lived, not taught.
4/12
There was power in that refusal. Davis rejected the idea that Black genius required Black pain. He’d heard it all before—that the blues was born in cotton fields and juke joints. He didn’t dismiss it. But he insisted: suffering wasn’t the source. Not always.
3/12
3/12
June 1, 2025 at 7:04 PM
There was power in that refusal. Davis rejected the idea that Black genius required Black pain. He’d heard it all before—that the blues was born in cotton fields and juke joints. He didn’t dismiss it. But he insisted: suffering wasn’t the source. Not always.
3/12
3/12
On November 12, 1989, on 60 Minutes, Harry Reasoner asked him if Black musicians were better at jazz and blues because of slavery. The question could’ve gone sideways.
What Davis said—quietly, precisely—was about rhythm, memory, race, and the meaning of swing.
1/12
What Davis said—quietly, precisely—was about rhythm, memory, race, and the meaning of swing.
1/12
June 1, 2025 at 6:59 PM
On November 12, 1989, on 60 Minutes, Harry Reasoner asked him if Black musicians were better at jazz and blues because of slavery. The question could’ve gone sideways.
What Davis said—quietly, precisely—was about rhythm, memory, race, and the meaning of swing.
1/12
What Davis said—quietly, precisely—was about rhythm, memory, race, and the meaning of swing.
1/12