by Patrick Pilch (@pratprilch)
Some forty years ago, on January 5, 1980, Chicago’s ONO began to pioneer and redefine the underground avant-garde. Since their inception, the band’s evolving roster has shifted around bandleader P Michael Grego and frontperson travis, but their singular, visionary approach has stayed the same. Their website header reads “The ONO Statement of Purpose: Experimental, Noise, and Industrial Poetry Performance Band Exploring Gospel's Darkest Conflicts, Tragedies and Premises.” Forty years into their existence, their motive remains incredibly potent; ONO’s artistic mission is as important as ever on Red Summer.
Four hundred years is not a long time ago. On August 20th, 1619, the first twenty African slaves set foot in Jamestown, Virginia, marking the beginning of slavery in the American colonies and subsequent racial inequality and violence in the ‘free’ United States. Red Summer’s opening track, named after this date, is notably disturbing. The carnivalesque overture is a perverse prelude to the four hundred years of militarism, colonialism and oppression on American soil. As the record continues, travis recounts localized atrocities.
One hundred years is not a long time ago. Red Summer refers to the late winter to early autumn of 1919, a period of time where anti-black white supremacists executed terrorist attacks across the United States. These attacks were specifically carried out in Washington DC and the band’s hometown of Chicago. Travis touches on the city’s localized racism on “Coon,” a slur that began appearing in public notices around the city following the murder of Eugene Williams - an event which sparked violence between black and white people on Chicago’s south side. The 17-year old black boy drowned after being stoned by a group of white men for swimming in the unofficial white section of 29th Street Beach. Travis extrapolates upon the inherent evil of “Coon,” emphasizing the depravity of the “home-sown and home-grown” slur.
That same summer, in Mississippi, a similar atrocity took place. “26 June 1919” pulls a quote from Sally Jenkins’ and John Stauffer’s The State of Jones: The Small Southern County That Seceded from the Confederacy. The quote is in reference to the brutal lynching and public cremation of John Hartfield, a black man falsely accused of assaulting a white woman in Ellisville, Mississippi. Hartfield was hung, shot, cremated and dismembered. His remains were distributed to members of the community including shopkeepers, one of whom travis quotes: “I’m goner put this finger on exhibition in my store window tomorrow, boys.”
Yesterday is not a long time ago. Twenty four hours ago, on May 25th, 2020, George Floyd was murdered by Minneapolis police on the corner of Chicago and 38th. Today, as Minneapolis riots, the same people who condemn property damage remain remarkably unfazed by yet another murder of an unarmed black person. The press release of Red Summer ends with this: “We hope that this record instills a need to learn, to study, and functions as an inlet into something much bigger.” I am a white person who has learned from listening to this record, and I will leave you with a quote from James Baldwin on progress:
“You always told me it takes time. It’s taken my father’s time, my mother’s time, my uncle’s time, my brother’s and my sister’s time. My niece’s and my nephew’s time. How much time do you want, for your ‘progress’?” - James Baldwin