Notes On A New Life For 'Soul Train'

It was disheartening to hear this past Wednesday that Don Cornilelius was selling Soul Train. But it was reassuring and a source of anticipation to hear what the show’s new owners are planning. MadVision, the media company which made the purchase, was looking to give Soul Train a new life on DVD. Finally, someone with the power and money and the bright idea (duh!) to do what people—ages 36 to 56— have been hoping and silently screaming for Don to do for years: package this historical dance show for everyone to own and share with new generations (instead of getting bootleg versions from Japan).

For nostalgic reasons, the idea is a no-brainer. Millions of black, brown, yellow, and even white folks have grown up with Saturday morning memories of watching the Hippest Trip in America. The Soul Train lines. The ever-evolving fashions. The dance moves. The music and the artists. Don Cornelius’s back-handed interviews with male musical guests and the occasional inappropriate comments, of the sexual nature, he’d make to the female ones. All were the ingredients that made watching Soul Train an experience, one definitely worth reliving. And many do, if you’re able to watch the repeats that come on.

But, more importantly, Soul Train should be preserved on DVD for historical reasons. With its start in 1970 (syndication would come in 1971), the show was the flashpoint between the demise of the civil rights/black power movements, the mainstreaming of black culture and the impending rise of hip-hop culture. (A point made in the first chapter of my book). Where American Bandstand became groundbreaking platform for rock n roll and white youth culture, Soul Train, especially in its early days, became a groundbreaking and history-making platform for black urban youth culture. Particularly, dancing. Aside from the music and fashion, the show single handedly gave rise to—by prominently displaying—the street dance revolution of the later half of the 20th Century. Popping. Locking. Roboting. And, from the floorwork of some dancers, pre-hip-hop b-boying. One of my fondest and earliest memories of Soul Train was watching folks lock as if their life depended on it or watching the pioneering dance group Electric Boogaloo in the late 70s perform as guests of Soul Train. That a number of these dancers would go on re-write the rules of American dance—the Lockers, Boogaloo, etc—puts Soul Train in a category of television history all its own. Oh, and also, it was tremendous source of pride for young black folks looking for images of themselves and their ideals.

Before the show went on to encapsulate the evolution of black culture in America—from ‘70s disco escapism to the 80’s racially-neutralized pop to the 90’s rise of a hip hop nation—Soul Train showed the power of black media ownership. Not only economically but culturally, as was also the point I made in my book. The example I gave was in the above Youtube clip. It’s Damita Jo Freeman, another Soul Train dancing star (who’d go on to star in the film Private Benjamin), dancing while James Brown performs “Super Bad.” After giving James a show, locking and roboting on stage with him, Freeman raises her fist in a black power salute to James and the Soul Train dancers, a move you would have never seen on American Bandstand.

Don, thanks for doing the right thing, and putting the show in a position to live on and bring joy in a new form.