ILLUSTRATIONS FIGURE 1.1 Big Mama Thornton in San Francisco, 1968 34 FIGURE 2.1 LaVern Baker, publicity photo, 1950s 68 FIGURE 2.2 LaVern Baker in concert at the Lake Glen Country Club, Akron, Ohio, 1950s 70 FIGURE 3.1 The Shirelles, minus the wigs and matching outfits, early 1960s 83 FIGURE 3.2 The Shirelles, publicity photo, 1958 91 FIGURE 4.1 The Blossoms on Shindig!, 1965 113 FIGURE 4.2 Merry Clayton in concert at the Bitter End, New York City, 1971 122 FIGURE 4.3 Humble Pie and the Blackberries, publicity photo, early 1970s 125 FIGURE 5.1 Devon Wilson in the June 1970 issue of Rags 155 FIGURE 5.2 Marsha Hunt on stage at the 1969 Isle of Wight Festival 168 FIGURE 5.3 Claudia Lennear in Rolling Stone, April 1973 175 FIGURE 6.1 Patti LaBelle and the Bluebelles, publicity photo, mid-1960s 186 FIGURE 6.2 Labelle in concert in New York, 1974 196 FIGURE 7.1 Betty Davis, 1970 215 FIGURE 7.2 Betty Davis in concert, 1975 225 FIGURE 8.1 Tina Turner at the hungry i, San Francisco, October 1967 242 FIGURE 8.2 Ike and Tina Turner with Phil Spector at Gold Star Studios, 1966 249 FIGURE 8.3 Tina Turner at the Beverly Theatre in Beverly Hills, California, 1984 266 FIGURE E.1 Brittany Howard of the Alabama Shakes in concert, 2014 278 x ◆ Illustrations ACKNOWL EDGMENTS The music of the w omen I discuss in Black Diamond Queens and stories about their lives have moved and inspired me over the years of working on this book. Predictably, the proj ect of tracing their creative journeys led me on a journey of my own, one I have taken with the support of institutions, col- leagues, friends, and loved ones. A 2013–14 National Endowment for the Humanities Fellowship and New York University faculty research funding supported the research and writing of this book. A subvention from the Claire and Barry Brook Endowment of the American Musicological Society, funded in part by the National Endow- ment for the Humanities and the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation, and an nyu Center for the Humanities Book Subvention Grant provided funding that off- set expenses associated with publication costs. I am very grateful for this as- sistance. Portia Maultsby, Guthrie Ramsey, and Mellonee Burnim were early advocates for this proj ect. I thank them for the advice and suggestions they shared when I was starting my research and for writing letters of support for my grant applications. An earlier version of chapter 1 and material in the epilogue appeared in a diff er ent form as “Listening for Willie Mae ‘Big Mama’ Thornton’s Voice: The Sound of Race and Gender Transgressions in Rock and Roll,” Women and Music: A Journal of Gender and Culture 15 (2011): 1–17. An earlier version of chapter 7 appeared in a diff er ent form as “They Say She’s Diff er ent: Race, Gen- der, and Genre and the Liberated Black Femininity of Betty Davis,” Journal of Popu lar Music Studies 23 no. 2 (June 2011): 146–65. I thank the editorial teams of Suzanne Cusick and Emily Wilbourne at wam and Gus Stadler and Karen Tongson at jpms as well as all of the peer reviewers for their help with early iterations of this proj ect. Throughout the research and writing pro cess my editor Ken Wissoker has been an invaluable interlocutor. I am grateful to him for sharing his intellec- tual acumen and for his firm commitment to my work. I also thank the peer reviewers for comments and queries that helped me make this a better book. Fi nally, thanks to Nina Foster, Susan Albury, and the staff at Duke University Press for production assistance. For responding with enthusiasm to this proj ect and giving me permission to include their work in this book, I thank photog raphers Nancy Clendan- iel, Bob Gruen, Janet Macoska, Neal Preston, and Baron Wolman. I am also grateful to Helen Ashford at Cache Agency for her assistance in locating and providing photo graphs. For putting me in touch with the artists, facilitating interviews, and sharing their knowledge, I thank Rudy Calvo, the late Dennis Garvey, Linda Garvey, David Henderson, Juma Sultan, Matt S ullivan, Oliver Wang, and Chris Estey. For sharing memories about the artists and events I discuss in this book, I thank Terry DeRouen, Nat Dove, Kat Dyson, Sherman Fleming, Michael Hill, Emmaretta Marks, Jimmy McCracklin, James Moore, and Chris Strachwitz. I am deeply grateful to Merry Clayton, Sarah Dash, Betty Davis, Gloria Jones, and Beverly Lee for taking time to speak to me about their experiences in rock and roll. I thank them for trusting me with their stories. Thanks to Nicol Hammond and Siv Lie for careful and exhaustive research assistance and to David A. Johnson, Executive Director of the Alabama M usic Hall of Fame; Jessica Lacher- Feldman, Curator of Rare Books and Special Col- lections at the University of Alabama Library; the staff at the Institute of Jazz Studies at Rutgers University; the staff at the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts; the staff at the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Cul- ture; and Alice Echols and Elijah Wald for help identifying sources. For inviting me to pre sent my work, providing a warm welcome, and of- fering help with my research long after my visit, I thank members of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame staff, especially Jason Hanley, Kathryn Metz, Lauren Onkey, and Ivan Sheehan. Special thanks to Lauren for making it pos si ble for me to meet and conduct a public conversation with Gloria Jones at the Rock Hall in 2012. Thanks also to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Library and Ar- chives staff, especially Jennie Thomas and Andy Leach, for research assistance and help locating photos. I am grateful to my colleagues in the fields of ethnomusicology, musicol- ogy, and beyond who have invited me to pres ent my work in public venues. For including me on conference panels, I thank Harry Berger, Mark Bur- ford, Mellonee Burnim, Danny Fisher, Andy Flory, Kristina Jacobson, Meryl Krieger, Kimberly Marshall, Portia Maultsby, Andy McGraw, Honey Meconi, Elliott Powell, Ann Powers, Tim Rice, Jeremy Wallach, Eric Weisbard, and Emily Wilbourne. For inviting me to pre sent lectures at their campuses and xii ◆ Acknowledgments for hosting my visits, I thank Marié Abe and Dan Singer at Boston Univer- sity; Melody Chapin, Michael Deck, Byrd McDaniel, and Dana Gooley at Brown University; Anne Rasmussen, Lauron Kehrer, and Gayle Murchison at the College of William and Mary; Lee Tyson, Judith Peraino, and Catherine Appert at Cornell University; Lei Ouyang Bryant, Gordon Thompson, and Judy Tsou at Skidmore College; Ben Tausig at Stony Brook University; Theo Cateforis at Syracuse University; Nicholas Mathew and Jocelyne Guilbault at uc-B erkeley; Charles Hiroshi Garrett and Mark Clague at the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor; Guthrie Ramsey and Tim Rommen at the University of Pennsylvania; John Covach at the University of Rochester; Patrick Burke and Paige McGinley at the University of Washington, St. Louis; Alexander Rozin and Julian Onderdonk at West Chester University; and Rebekah Ahrendt, Anna Zayaruznaya, and Stefanie Acevedo at Yale University. The opportu- nity to try out ideas, respond to questions, and receive feedback helped me to sharpen my thinking and improve this manuscript. I am privileged to work in a fun and stimulating environment. I thank the following faculty and staff of the New York University Department of Music (fas) for their warm colleagueship, intellectual generosity, and support of my research: Mike Beckerman, Brigid Cohen, Suzanne Cusick, Christine Dang, Martin Daughtry, Elizabeth Hoffman, Deborah Kapchan, Lou Karchin, Yi- Wen Lai- Tremewan, Pauline Lum, Natasha Martinez, Mick Moloney, Jaime Oliver, Margaret Panofsky, David Samuels, Yunior Terry, Alice Teyssier, Kent Underwood, Freeman Williams, and Lawren Young. Special thanks to Mike and David for providing course releases at crucial times, to Suzanne for help- ing me work through and articulate my ideas at an early stage in this proj- ect, and to Martin for commenting on an early draft of my book proposal. Thanks also to the gradu ate students with whom I have worked over the years; our conversations and exchanges in the seminar room and beyond have been impor tant, energizing resources for me. Fi nally, I thank my colleagues in nyu’s Department of Anthropology, especially Faye Ginsburg, Fred Myers, Bambi Schieffelin, and Rayna Rapp, for their continued support. I am grateful to work alongside the following scholars whose research has helped me write this book and whose friendship has propelled me over the years: Daphne Brooks, Judith Casselberry, Michelle Habell- Pallán, Ei- leen Hayes, Alisha Lola Jones, Kyra Gaunt, Matthew Morrison, Sonnet Ret- man, Gayle Wald, and Richard Yarborough. Special thanks to Judith, Sonnet, and Gayle for reading sections of the manuscript and offering very helpful comments. Acknowledgments ◆ xiii For providing impeccable and loving childcare and making it pos si ble for me to leave home on research trips without worrying, I thank Jessica Ayala, Shana Jackson, and Kaegan Sparks. I owe a huge debt of gratitude to my friends, in Brooklyn and elsewhere, for creating a warm, sustaining community. Thanks to Bob Alotta, Swati Argade, Linda Aro, Lacy Austin, Aisha Bell, Simon Caldwell, Gabri Christa, Marcelle Davies-L ashley, Bridgett Davis, LaRonda Davis, Danielle Downer, Cynthia Edorh, Trevor Exter, Rob Fields, Sherman Fleming, Jared Hassan Foles, Renee Foles, Ruthie Goldberg, Paula Henderson, Neycha Herford, John L. Jackson, Natasha Johnson, Christianne Kapps, Antonio Lauria- Perricelli, Mario Laz- zaroni, Wangechi Mutu, Cy Nakpodia, Jairus “Jazz” Odums, Chris Pfaff, Alec Pollack, Queen Godis, Tamar-k ali, Bill Toles, Toshi Reagon, Martha Redbone, Vernon Reid, Danny Simmons, Ginny Suss, the late Connie Sutton, Deborah Thomas, Aaron Whitby, and Verushka Wray. My f amily has provided limitless support for my endeavors—a cademic and other wise. Heartfelt thanks to the late Robert Mahon, Diane Mahon Moody, Lyn Mahon, Alicia Mahon, Shervon Moody Anderson, Mark Anderson, War- ren Goolsby, Jordyn Goolsby, the late Florence and Charles Tate, Greg Tate, Geri Augusto, Chinara Tate, and Nile Wood. My mother Mary Mahon (1929– 2018) gave me too many gifts to list. For the purposes of these pages, I thank her for her belief that I could accomplish what ever I set out to do and for her unstinting, unconditional love. My husband Brian Tate and our daughter Callie made the solitary work of writing much less onerous. Their love, understanding, insight, and humor sustain and inspire me. Callie has been the most understanding of daughters, allowing me time and space to do my work. From the beginning, Brian cared about this proj- ect and talked with me for countless hours about its ins and outs. He has suggested writing strategies, helped with editing, and read e very word of the manuscript. His loving partnership made this book pos si ble. Brian and Callie are extraordinary people, and I am fortunate to have them in my life. I dedi- cate this book to them both. xiv ◆ Acknowledgments Introduction Santi White threw down the gauntlet shortly after the 2008 release of her first full-l ength recording under her moniker Santogold.1 Some music crit- ics were labeling her as an r&b singer, and she was outraged with what she viewed as inaccurate classification of her m usic. “It’s racist,” the singer and songwriter told a reporter. “It’s totally racist. Every one is just so shocked that I don’t like r&b. Why does r&b keep coming into my interviews? It’s pissing me off. I didn’t grow up as a big fan of r&b, and, like, what is the big shocker? It’s stupid. In the beginning I thought that was funny. I’m an ‘mc,’ I’m a ‘soul singer,’ I’m a ‘dance hybrid artist.’ ”2 The songs on Santogold feature sly and catchy meldings of ska, reggae, and rock rhythms; t here are dub echoes and danceable synthesizer effects all with White’s laid- back, talk- singing vocals riding over the top. White and her producers had created musical settings that drew on every thing from eighties new wave to Jamaican dancehall to electronica, but it was a stretch to hear the a lbum as con temporary r&b. White, an African American w oman, argued that commentators assigned her to the genre b ecause of her race, while ignoring her a ctual sound, and she was not happy about it. Placing Santogold into one of the m usic genre categories set aside for Afri- can American musicians did not make musical sense, but it was part of a long tradition of prioritizing racial identity over musical sound when marketing pop music. Genre categories simplify t hings for music business professionals, whether at reco rd labels, m usic venues, or media outlets; they help identify an artist’s potential audience and determine how to promote their music. As such, genre labels have a power ful effect on the shape and direction of an art- ist’s career. Concerned with what she viewed as the misrepres en ta tion of her creative work, White resisted the flawed categorization, pointing out that she was being grouped into a style of music for which she had no affinity and to which her genre- blending music was only tenuously connected. Santi White is not the first African American w oman to strug gle with issues of m usic genre and professional c areer. In fact, she is one in a long line of artistically adventurous African American women whose sounds have shaped the musi- cal and cultural terrain, but whose race and gender identities have made their impact difficult to hear and acknowledge. This has been especially true for women participating in the unruly genre of rock and roll. Since the 1950s, when they w ere among the rhythm and blues artists who created the m usic that took the name rock and roll, African American w omen have made pivotal contributions to the form as it underwent de cades of stylistic and cultural changes. Stories of their involvement in rock and roll, however, have been marginal to the dominant narrative, and, like Santi White, they have been pressed into genres deemed appropriate for African American women or not talked about at all. Black Diamond Queens: African American W omen and Rock and Roll discusses the careers of a cross- section of black women vocal- ists, revealing the simultaneous conditions of audibility and inaudibility, of presence and absence, that characterize their careers in order to amplify their musical, creative, and critical voices. It may seem unusual to foreground black women in a discussion of a genre associated with white youth rebellion, the formation of male identities, and a fair amount of misogyny. Unlike the blues, jazz, or soul, rock and roll is a counterintuitive place to look for African American women. It is precisely this apparent disconnect that compels me. Ideas about what rock and roll music is and who is qualified to perform it—in short, the everyday workings of genre classification—h ave marginalized African American women in dis- cussions of the history of the genre. This is troubling since black women have influenced the sound, feel, and image of the m usic from its beginnings. Still, their involvement is often overlooked as assumptions about m usic genre and social identity combine to create a narrative that is mostly male and predomi- nantly white. In most mainstream histories of rock and roll, black women are mentioned only briefly, if at all, and the particularities of their m usic and experiences are rarely considered. Black Diamond Queens moves black women to the center of the discussion and listens to the voices of African American women in rock and roll from 1953, when blues singer Big Mama Thornton topped the r&b charts with her hit “Hound Dog,” to 1984, when the solo career of veteran performer Tina Turner took flight, and she won recognition as the “Queen of Rock and Roll.” I examine the race, gender, and genre challenges that Thornton, Turner, and a host of others encountered, and explore the interracial and cross-g ender collaborations in which they engaged in order to uncover a hidden history of African American w omen in rock and roll. 2 ◆ Introduction African American Women’s Voices in Rock and Roll Black Diamond Queens is related to recent work by scholars who reframe music history and criticism to include discussion of professional women mu- sicians and the ways gender and power shaped their experiences. Situating women’s music-m aking in social, historical, and cultural contexts, t hese au- thors analyze “how musical activity can be reread through gender and how music likewise helps define what it means to be male or female in a given time or place.”3 Among this work is research that brings black feminist perspec- tives to bear on con temporary popu lar music, highlighting the presence and influence of black w omen in a range of music genres. These studies examine critical discourses embedded in black women’s musical practices and consider the impact of race, gender, and class on the creation and circulation of their music.4 While in many cases their research recovers lost or underacknowl- edged contributions, these scholars are also concerned with examining the ways power relations, genre categorization, and academic discourses have af- fected both the professional fortunes and scholarly repres en ta tion of black women musicians. The women I discuss in this book have had their singing voices recorded and circulated; yet in spite of their indisputable contributions to American popu lar music, they have not always been carefully listened to, and they are not always remembered. One reason it has been difficult to hear these “black female voices buried at the bottom of the rock and roll archive,” as cultural critic Daphne Brooks puts it, is because vocalists have been undervalued in rock criticism, which prioritizes instrumentalists, songwriters, and producers as the significant creative forces in the field.5 Possibly b ecause of assumptions that singing is a natu ral practice, the vocal part of rock music- making receives less sustained attention. In a study that recuperates the artistic and cultural significance of girl group m usic, a form centered on female vocals, musicolo- gist Jacqueline Warwick critiques the perspective that “belittles the work of singers who breathe life into songs” and adheres to “a code of musical values that regards singing and dancing as activities that ‘come naturally’ to females and thus deserve scant re spect.”6 This viewpoint, which valorizes the work of artists who write the material they perform as “unmediated expressions of pure feeling,” devalues the work of vocalists who do not also play an instrument and who do not write the songs they sing.7 Warwick notes that according to Introduction ◆ 3