Danyel Smith - How Music Made My Life

 

You guys got me feeling like Rickey Henderson out here. So, you got to figure, it's 1988, 1989. I'm in my early 20s. And importantly, I'm broke. Like, brokeny broke, broke, broke, broke, broke. Broke. I was at UC Berkeley. I had to drop out. I couldn't afford it. So, I had a lot of jobs. 

 

So, my grimy job was at Copymat. I will change your toner for you right now. My fancy job was at Saks Fifth Avenue, hence my everlasting champagne tastes. I also worked for the California Youth Authority, which is a fancy way of saying juvenile hall. And all of this was hiding like this desire that I had to write. I had no idea how to go about it. I really missed being in school. 

 

I had this great professor at UC Berkeley. His name was Dr. Charles Muscatine. He's gone now. And I battled to get into his class as an underclassman. Everyone was saying, “You'll never get in. Dr. Muscatine's class is so difficult, you'll never get in.” And my ego, which I still maintain, would not allow me to believe that. And so, I got in the class. It was an introduction to writing narrative nonfiction. So fancy. 

 

I was getting as and As, As and As, and he gave me an A minus one time. So, I stayed after I had questions. [audience laughter] So, I was like, “Dr. Muscatine, hello. What's going on with the minus?” He said, “Danyel, you know what? You shouldn't really be so concerned about the minus. What you should be concerned about is the fact that I think you can make a living at this.” 

 

I mentioned I was broke, so I marched myself over-- I couldn't figure out what to do, but I did figure out with some help from my stepdad and from some of my friends to go over to the alternative news weekly of San Francisco, the San Francisco Bay Guardian, and say, hey. I just lied. I go to UC Berkeley. Lies. I had dropped out. Lies. 

 

I want to be an intern. I'll work for free. Considering I had three jobs, right, I could afford it. [audience laughter] They started me out writing photo captions. I really should have won a Pulitzer for my photo captions. [audience laughter] And then, because I was good at the photo captions, then they started me off going to stuff that no one else wanted to go to, which is an intern's job. So, they sent me to the olive oil convention. 

 

Let me tell you something. I was asking all deep questions about everything like, “Oh, my God, so it's Greece and it's not Italy? Tell me more.” And so, then they sent me to the mayor's convention. Sounds boring. Not to me. I'm nosy. I'm a natural and trained reporter. I had all types of questions, “So, what's really going on in Albuquerque? I must know now.” 

 

The best thing about being an intern at the Guardian was I had a business card that said I was an intern at the Bay Guardian, and I used to flex by going to nightclubs and concerts and being like, “I'm covering the show. Can you let me in free?” And they let me in. These were the cute early 20 days it was happening. [audience laughter] I started seeing this man at all the shows. 

 

He's looking at me, and I'm looking at him and he looks really professional and scary. And he says, “Hey, why do I see you at all the shows?” And I was like, “Because I'm a very important intern at the San Francisco Bay Guardian.” [audience laughter] And he said, “I'm actually the music editor of Donna, The East Bay Express,” which was the east evil enemy of the Bay Guardian. And he says, “Why don't they have you covering shows? I see you having a great time. Seems like you know the words.” 

 

Lee is always such an encourager. He gave me an assignment to write about Natalie Cole coming to Oakland. It's where I'm from. It's the best city and the best state in the United States of America. [audience cheers and applause] 

 

It is what it is. He said, “Yeah, I want you to go review Natalie Cole.” Natalie Cole, Mr. Melody. This will be the daughter of the great Nat King Cole. “I'm 23, and you want me to review Natalie Cole, my mom's favorite artist?” “Absolutely.” I did all the research. I knew all the songs. I didn't even know what to wear to the Paramount Theater in Oakland. It's like the fanciest theater in Oakland. I borrowed some really, ugly burgundy boots from one girlfriend. I borrowed a really, ugly lacy, like, Apollonia 6, Vanity 6 outfit from another girlfriend. 

 

I got there early. I wrote down everything. I wrote down everything that was happening with the velvet of the seats, the velvet of the drapes. I wrote about what everybody had on, because I'd struggle so much with what to wear. I heard people talking about how they could barely afford to be at the show, but they got their pennies together, because they wanted to go to this fancy show in Oakland. 

 

Oakland was struggling at that time. It was the crack wars. They were counting murders in Oakland at that time. On the evening news, listen, Lee had asked me to write 800 words. I filed 1,600. If you were a journalist in the paper era, you know that's not what you do. You just couldn't do it. Lee ran it though. He ran it. He did. And just like with Dr. Muscatine, I had to go to Lee and say, Lee, why did you run it though? Why did you run it? He said, “You know why? Because you told a whole story.” 

 

He said, “You told a story. You just didn't talk about Natalie Cole on stage at the Paramount Theater. You talked about the city of Oakland. You talked about the people of Oakland. You talked about yourself. You talked about what it means to a town.” And that's what we call Oakland, the town. “You talked about what it means to a city like Oakland for somebody like Natalie Cole to have that on her tour schedule.” He said, “I found it engaging. I think that's called having a style. You should refine it and continue.” A couple months later, I get a call from Bill Adler, who was then the publicist for the great group Run DMC. Please applaud. [audience applause]

 

And Bill says to me, “Ma'am, listen, there's a job opening in New York City.” I had to let go of Oakland. It's the R&B editor of Billboard. “Go out there and get the job.” I said, there's no way I'm going to get that job. I got on the plane and I got that job. You know, I got that job. [audience cheers and applause]

 

I did. And after that job, I started writing for Rolling Stone, I started writing for Spin, I started being a music critic for the New York Times. I became music editor of a new magazine called Vibe magazine, if you've ever heard of it. I was quickly promoted to editor in chief of Vibe magazine. I have a book in the stores now, it's called Shine Bright, which is what I'm trying to do. [audience applause] 

 

It's a history of black women in pop. What I do is that I try to tell stories about these women in pop music and I put myself in it. I put the history of their towns in it. I'm doing what Dr. Muscatine said. He said, “You can make a living at it,” and I'm making a living at it. Thank you.