I saw the video on my Instagram story. Upcoming black British singer Eyanna, who presented on her own record label (Atlanta-based LVRN), says YouTube comments praise her voice, but her “look” will never get her signed. He talked about what he said he couldn't get. As a dark-skinned black girl with Bantu knots, she was not marketable, she said. She stood in front of her and her signed team and proved her commenters wrong. At first I was happy and proud and shared her victory, but then I became frustrated. Why are black women still considered an unsellable commodity?
Similar to the idea that has long been promoted in my industry that magazines with black women on the cover don't sell (I can see this). Cosmo Sales alone completely (Not true), and we're hearing the same thing from the British music industry. Despite black women making up a large proportion of the world's greatest artists since modern recording began in the 1920s, black British female singers have received relatively little attention in the industry. They often have far greater success in the United States. The ones we see in the mainstream are usually fair-skinned, mixed-race, slim, and often 1/5th the girls in her band. This is not a new topic and even I blame a lot of it on the public and it all comes down to what sells. But then why do we consume so much music by American black female musicians here in the UK?
As I looked at Ayanna's Bantu knots and 18-year-old Flower Lolove's (Joyce Cissé) huge, beautiful afro, I noticed a change in this new generation that made me see things in a different light.
generational change
Having grown up embracing the Afro-textured natural hair movement and in a culture that values individuality, it's understandable that Black Gen Z women feel more confident in their natural hairstyles and feel less pressure to conform .
“Every criticism I've ever received has been overshadowed by my desire to only do what feels right to me,” Aanna, 24, told me. “I've been told that my hair doesn't have 'market value', but I don't accept that idea. I'd rather think about what feels good and what message I want to send. People I want people to see me and give them the courage to express themselves, especially black girls.”
For her, wearing a Bantu knot is not a bold statement of defiance, but simply being who she is. “I've always loved my Bantu knots and even have pictures of babies with tiny little Bantu knots. So I never thought my hair would look like this, because it's my own authentic Because it's part of it.”
As a kid in the 2000s, the only dark-skinned black British solo star I vividly remember was Jamelia. Now natural, she says her industry rarely sees her own hair texture, and as a result she always wears it straight. After she heard that, I reached out to her and asked her if she thought her deal was with her natural hair or if she had just as much success with it. “At the time, my natural hair may have caused some problems. I hope that my musical success is about the music itself and goes beyond my appearance. But , I can't say I had any problems at all, because I felt societal pressure to conform.”
In 2004, Jamelia topped the young charts.
When I was a teenager, there was someone named Alexandra Burke. inspiring instagram video After winning The X Factor, she was told not to wear her hair in braids or an afro as she needed to appeal to a white audience. Fifteen years later, these opinions are still gushing, which is why it means so much to see artists like Ahanna proudly wearing their Bantu knots.
A study by hair care brand SheaMoisture found that black and mixed-race women over the age of 45 are 24 times more likely to defer to societal pressures when it comes to their hair than women between the ages of 18 and 21. But is it just the reassuring Gen Z confidence to wear natural hair that's behind these young artists' looks? I don't think so.
Jamelia and her daughters, featured in SheaMoistures' “Same Roots, New Rules” photo series, celebrate the Gen Z daughters who inspired their mothers to embrace their natural textures.
Artists of past generations may not have had the confidence to wear their hair naturally, but to view it as simply a matter of personal choice is to ignore the limitations and conditions placed on one's career. It will be. This is the context that needs to be unpacked to understand the significance of the changes we are currently seeing.
Industry-driven limits
At Leanne Pinnock's house race, pop, power For the documentary, Alexandra Burke, Ray, Keisha Buchanan, and NAO sit down to talk about their experiences as black women in the music industry. They talked about their frustration at being ignored, being stereotyped, and not getting the same effort and backing from their labels. Burke recalled being told by her prospective management team that “she already has black people” and that “she's too dark for the industry.” She said, “I need to bleach her skin because my records won't sell.''
Alexandra on her way to winning The X Factor in 2008.
Barriers to success go beyond just getting a deal, how much marketing budget your label spends on you, how much time and human resources they put into your career, and what opportunities push you forward. The question is what is allowed. what radio stations you'll be on, what radio stations' playlists you'll be on, what publications will profile you.
Artist VV Brown powerfully wrote: guardian: “Black women artists are taken advantage of, abused, discarded, and mistreated. The pattern of disparity is undeniable. Our careers have a faster expiration date than their white counterparts, and promotions and treatment are not done with the same intent. At times, the one-in, one-out rule is so prevalent that it can feel like a disposable black factory line.”
something bigger than beauty
I think what we're seeing right now is bigger than an evolution in beauty standards and an increase in confidence. What we are witnessing is the fact that black British female artists are being able to be their authentic selves. This is in no small part because social media has given artists a way to bypass industry gatekeepers and their outdated notions of marketability. They were proven wrong. Genre, looks, identity. The public, we don't have to fit into your box to support us.
Watch Cat Burns explode from TikTok. Record company executives didn't know who the market was for a queer, guitar-playing, dark-skinned indie-pop singer-songwriter. She didn't fit into the genres and identities reserved for black women, and had a hard time getting her signature signed. But she directly connected with millions of people from her own platform, blowing away those bigoted concerns.
Witness the astronomical success that the racially ambiguous Ray achieved when he broke free of the labels he felt were whitewashed and became an independent artist. race, pop, power A documentary about how she was forced to “oppress” her blackness as a fair-skinned mixed-race woman. She was not allowed to present her authentic music because her art did not have a clear racial identity “box”. She turned her focus to dance music, explained the era She was disposable in her career. She is a “rental vocalist who can be hired when needed at important moments in chart music.''
It's enough to write songs for Beyoncé and feature dance hit after dance hit, but isn't her seven years with the label enough to release an album? indie debut album my 21st century blues appeared on the international charts and was nominated for both the Mercury Prize and Blitz Album of the Year. She has been nominated in a record-breaking seven categories for a British artist, making her the most nominated artist in a single year since the awards began in 1977.
As a fan who adored her early music, I wanted to know more over the years and was disappointed that she no longer releases music that I associate with her. When I learned the truth behind it, I was saddened and furious. Words cannot describe the fire and pride within me that her monumental victory is now kindling.
Everything from Arlo Parks, a critically acclaimed indie/folk/RnB blend, to the deliciously nostalgic girl band Flow that showed us we could be more than a quarter of a group. It is clear that there is a public appetite for British black female artists in the field. -Dimensional personality. The pressure to conform to white beauty standards is a physical manifestation of all the ways we control our marketability. The genres we can create, the personas we must have. Seeing these beauty standards ignored is a sign that even bigger changes are coming. For black women, it's always been more than “just hair.”
Racism, colorism, textureism, and characteristicism all pose very real obstacles to the popularity of black women in public life, but they are not the reasons why industry shot-callers call us out. Laying them off, repackaging them, and underestimating our appeal only makes it worse. And they underestimate the people as well.
Eyanna, who is signed to an American label, told me: “Sometimes I wonder if British labels operate on an outdated system and have outdated ideas of what stardom looks like. We don't want you to feel disempowered by it. Social media is more useful and life-changing than ever before. Avoid it and make history in your own way. You'll soon have no choice but to catch up.”
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