Jungle Music and a Legacy of Primitive African Portrayal
In December of 1927, Duke Ellington began his four-year tenure as the band leader at Harlem’s famed Cotton Club. As part of Ellington’s duties at the Cotton Club, he composed and arranged music to accompany floor shows intended to exoticize and eroticize African and African American women for white male gazes. The music written to accompany African-set portions of the shows became known as Ellington’s jungle style or jungle music. In the context of Cotton Club floor shows, jungle sounds were understood as representations of erotic behaviors and figures; therefore, the instrumental parts of Ellington’s songs became aural erotics that contributed to what Caren Holmes described as “the sexual debasement of black bodies and black women [which] has been maintained through stereotypes, laws, and pseudo-science.”[1] In this paper, I will examination the ways in which Ellington’s music was contextualized by extramusical forces and marketed in order to perpetuate long-standing primitivized erotic narratives of African and African American people.
Documentation of European and Euro-American’s penchant for the eroticization of Africans traces back at least to the 1600s when white explorers, eager to publish their journals on West African exploration, edited their journals to include sensualized, borderline pornographic descriptions of African people dancing.[2] In Katrina Dyonne Thompson’s examination of how the white male gaze sexualized African dance, she points out how explorer-slavers like Jean Barbot “used black womanhood to show the inferior and erotic nature of blackness,” and often overlooked the “textured cultural expressions of dance.”[3] In other words, white intruders placed their own erotic value judgements on African dancing without exploring how these dances functioned within the cultures they observed. In Thompson’s study she asserts “the gaze functioned in these writings not only as a way to assert males as dominant and females as passive but also as a way to declare West Africans and blackness as subordinate and savage, while promoting European hegemony and whiteness as dominant and civilized.”[4]
Descriptions like this led to the stereotype that African people, particularly African women, were more inclined to dance seductively, fostering a belief among Europeans and Euro-Americans that women were “immoral or lascivious,” and were “not only portrayed as potential labor but also as sexual pleasure for white men.”[5] The writings of many white slavers, missionaries, militants, and scholars shaped “black women into objects that were willing and capable of satisfying the sexual desires of white males,” a pervasive belief that was still being reinforced in the twentieth century when Duke Ellington was working as the musical director for the Cotton Club.[6]
The Cotton Club, opened in 1922 on 142nd and Lenox Avenue, was one of most famed night clubs in Harlem, New York. The club also showed the continued oppressive power dynamic between white Americans and African Americans, and the continued primitivizing and eroticizing African dance and women. Nestled in the heart of Harlem, New York, The Cotton Club was a segregated hotspot for whites to engage in voyeurism as they watched African American entertainers in a predominantly African American-inhabited area, were serviced by an African American staff, but did not have to interact with any of the people they traveled up town to see. Joseph Vogel describes the dynamic at the Cotton Club in a way that the extension of the history of slavers and missionaries who traveled great distances to watch how “others” behave without having to engage meaningfully with those who have caught their fascination:
While the Harlem Renaissance did many things, it did not, however, fundamentally change white power structures or shift the dynamics of black-white relations. White enthusiasm for black culture often simply exemplified the latest attempt to exploit, purchase, and/or exhibit black bodies… white interest in black art, entertainment, and culture in the Jazz Age, then, was often grounded in primitivism, voyeurism, and exploitation.[7]
In this environment, Duke Ellington was able to make significant advancements in his career when he took a residency at the Cotton Club from 1927 to 1931. During this time Ellington was able to secure key personnel for his band and his music could reach a national audience via radio broadcasts from the club. Important for this study, Ellington made the often discussed use of his jungle music.[8] Generally, Ellington’s jungle music is characterized by the brass section’s growling and use of mutes, tom-toms, and pentatonic or whole tone scales.[9] Ellington himself discussed this style multiple times in his memoir, Music is My Mistress, “it was at the Kentucky Club that our music acquired new colors and characteristics...Joe ‘Tricky Sam’ Nanton came in, and he and Bubber became a great team, working together hand in glove they made a fine art out of what became known as jungle style,”[10] later adding that,
during one period at the Cotton Club, much attention was paid to acts with an African setting, and to accompany these we developed what was termed “jungle style” jazz. (As a student of Negro history I had, in any case, a natural inclination in this direction.) its most striking characteristic was the use of mutes—often the plumber’s everyday rubber plunger—by Bubber Miley on trumpet and Joe “Tricky Sam” Nanton on trombone.[11]
The choice of words Ellington used in these excerpts implies a couple of things. First, the mention of the Kentucky Club implies that the musical style was created before the term, and second, the style was not necessarily originated as a form of African music, although he cites a “natural inclination” for writing African or African-like music.
There has been significant debate among scholars in regard to the ethics of Ellington’s use of the term “jungle” to refer to his music style in general or in specific song titles.[12] Looking at the ethics used by a musician of color navigating Harlem nearly one hundred years ago hardly seems like a fruitful exercise. First, he was working a demanding job at a busy nightclub. Between rehearsals, personal practice, and time taken to compose and arrange, he may simply not have had the luxury of time to research and design a nuanced amalgamation of African music and jazz. Furthermore, he was an African American working for white bootleggers and mobsters who would have been less concerned with the enduring artistic integrity of their establishment, and more concerned with making sure the entertainment kept the wealthy downtown crowd coming so they could sell more alcohol. Second, he was not the only decision maker at this point in his career. Alongside the power dynamic that came with working for a violent gangster, Ellington also had to contend with the vision of Irving Mills, whom Ellington had signed to be his manager. Mills was an aggressive manager who was hired to help navigate not only the world of performing as a club musician looking to secure gigs, a band leader looking to record, and composer trying to sell sheet music, but also a musician who had to consider the brand-new world of radio. In his article about the marketing of Duke Ellington, Harvey G. Cohen points out that:
To compete in this new mass media at the highest level, recording artists needed more than a solitary manager. They needed an agency behind them, armed with numerous people supervising the various aspects of an artist's career and remuneration, including recordings, sheet music, touring, film, merchandising, promotion, and newspaper publicity. In his creation of the Mills Artists agency in the late 1920s, Mills devised an early and successful version of how a music business firm should operate in the expanding national music marketplace.[13]
With this type of organizational power behind him, a growing number of musicians in front of him who also depended on his professional and financial success for their own, and a child at home to support, he may not have had the power nor the agency as a performer to voice dissent regarding the settings in which his music was presented or question what role he was playing in continuing dangerous sexual stereotypes. It is important to recognize Duke Ellington’s agency and what power he had at the time to say “no” before starting this sort of critique of his work, and not conflate his silence regarding the exploitative use of his music with complacency or consent. He was hired to compose music for floor shows designed to sexually exploit African and African American women and men for the entertainment of white men, and it took more than Ellington himself to use his music as part of the long and continuing history of Black sexploitation.
In The Story of Jazz, Marshall Stearns provides an account of Cotton Club floor shows that “admitted only gangsters, whites, and Negro celebrities,” that were “a mishmash of talent and nonsense which might well fascinate both sociologists and psychiatrists.”[14] Describing the show itself, Stearns gives insight on how out-of-hand these portrayals of Africa could get:
I recall one where a light-skinned and magnificently muscled Negro burst through a papier-mâché jungle onto the dance floor, clad in an aviator’s helmet, goggles, and shorts. He had obviously been ‘forced down in darkest Africa,’ and in the center of the floor he came upon a ‘white’ goddess clad in long golden tresses and being worshipped by a circle of cringing ‘blacks.’ Producing a bull whip from heaven knows where, the aviator rescued the blonde and they did an erotic dance. In the background, Bubber Miley, Tricky Sam Nanton, and other members of the Ellington band growled, wheezed, and snorted obscenely.[15]
This depiction from Stearns has been cited by several scholars studying Ellington’s music.[16] Although the most erotic characters in this scene were not necessarily African or African American, it still illustrates use of primitivized African characters who descended on the “hero” and the “goddess.” The shows presented at the Cotton Club presented several scenes including jungle skits like the one depicted by Stearns, dance numbers showcasing scantily clad women, and “various shows [that] offer up African women as tasty delicacies for white spectators.”[17]
The excerpt from Stearns also included an important detail of what the Ellington band was doing in the background. With their growls, wheezes, and snorts, they are clearly using jungle sounds in order to aurally signify Africa and the eroticism of the characters. Ellington songs from around the time of his Cotton Club tenure that feature these effects include “Jungle Blues,” “Echoes of the Jungle,” “Jungle Jamboree,” “Jungle Nights in Harlem.”[18] Several other songs were performed in this style, or at least partly in this style, that did not allude to the jungle in their title including: “The Mooche,” “East St. Louis Toodle-Oo,”[19] “Black and Tan Fantasy,” “Take it Easy,” “Black Beauty.” It is worth noting that for as much as this style is written about and discussed for its importance to Ellington’s career, and for its exploitative use at the Cotton Club, there are relatively few songs with titles referencing Africa or the jungle. There are also relatively few recordings in his output from this time that have song titles that would allude to African eroticism. There are a few tunes recorded by the band including “Black Beauty,” “Hot and Bothered,” “Creole Love Call,” that reference the body or erotic feelings, but not a significant number. Also, the songs are themselves are no more overtly erotic than works by popular musicians of the day even though the group recorded several times as The Whoopee Makers during Ellington’s tenure at the Cotton Club.
Looking at his recordings from the time, it does not seem as though Ellington was trying to capitalize on the exoticism and eroticism of Cotton Club performances when releasing records for the mass market. The mass market tool that could have better promulgated this aspect of Ellington’s music is radio. During his time at the Cotton Club, Ellington made hundreds of appearances on national radio broadcasts in which he was presented as “the greatest living master of jungle music” as well as several other monikers.[20] With radio, the jungle sound in its floor show context was not just contained to the confines of the Cotton Club but was broadcast into homes across the country. While the sexual images of a floor show would obviously not accompany a radio broadcast, “the Cotton Club theme of safely contained exoticism played an important role in allowing Ellington to present over the airwaves music that sounded so unabashedly different from popular white bands like that of Paul Whiteman.”[21] The jazz of a perceived exotic and erotic Africa was not exclusively for the ears of well-to-do New York voyeurs.
Whether Duke Ellington set out to write music that eroticized or exoticized Africa, he wrote music that contributed to the legacy of both. Features of the so-called jungle sound have endured and continue to be used as aural signifiers of exoticism and eroticism. In order to investigate the ways in which aspects of jungle music have lived in popular culture outside the scope of Duke Ellington and the Cotton Club, aspects of jungle music need to be defined.
A review of published articles regarding Ellington’s jungle music reveals no standard definition of the style and what all it entails. Lock notes it is “characterized by wailing, growling brass,”[22] Cohen also cites “the distinctive growling, shrieking, and moaning sounds.”[23] It seems the only musical characteristic consistently cited as an integral part of jungle music is the use of growling and wailing. Carl Woideck provided more detail in regard to musical techniques present in jungle music. Woideck also gives insight as to why a clear meaning has not been established, pointing out that “Ellington never publicly defined jungle music.”[24] Woideck’s more detailed categorization of jungle music states
The most-often recurring musical characteristic discussed is the sound of the band’s plunger-muted and growling trumpet and trombone that seemed to pronounce syllables like “wah wah” and “yah yah.” This was a technique that had been brought into the Ellington band by trumpeter James “Bubber” Miley… A minor tonality…is also sometimes associated with the jungle style. [25]
Woideck also mentions the use of tom-toms in some of Ellington’s music from this time, explaining “Tom-toms are not universally found in the jungle music of jazz, but for most of the twentieth century, Westerners, including Ellington, often generically associated tom-toms with the music of African jungles.”[26] Ellington’s use of malleted tom-toms, though inconsistent, shows that his interpretation of an “African” sound includes the influence of popular tropes. As Kimberly Hannon Teal notes,
Ellington also employed types of generalized exoticism popular in classical or Tin Pan Alley works such as drones, open fifths, pentatonic or non-western scales, folk-like melodic simplicity, extreme registers, dissonance, ostinato, and a general tendency toward minor keys in the pieces he used in conjunction with jungle themes.[27]
Looking at the use of music in film, many of the varying characteristics recognized as part of Ellington’s compositional oeuvre during his time at the Cotton Club in the 1920s and 1930s—mainly growls, shrieks, and low drums—can be heard in the continued exoticizing and primitivizing of Africa, and the eroticization of women in general. The representation of Africa in film has its own long and fraught history. According to N. Frank Ukadike:
Since the simultaneous inventions of the motion picture in Europe and America coincided with the height of European imperialism, it is not surprising that for many years the dominant image of Africa seen on Western screens was that of condescension and paternalism. Western filmmakers began to film in Africa taking advantage of the beauty of the landscape, the so-called exoticism of its customs, relegating the African to the background.[28]
The use of malleted drumming that was a an occasional feature of Ellington’s jungle music has been used to represent an often-primitivized Africa in a glut of films set in Africa or the jungle including: Jungle Man (1941), a film in which the only Africans seen wear loin cloths, carry spears, and live in huts; Drums of Africa (1963), a movie about a group of white people on a safari that need to save Africans (armed with spears) from slavers; George of the Jungle (1997), in which the protagonist is a white man in a loin cloth who was raised by a talking gorilla and has a pet elephant; and The Jungle Book (1967).
The Jungle Book, though set in India and features primarily animals as characters, is an example of how Ellington’s jungle music has been used in children’s movies to subtly paint African Americans as a primitive Other by basing characters on stereotypes. One of the most harmfully constructed characters, King Louie, is analyzed by Susan Miller and Greg Rode in “The Movie You See, The Movie You Don’t,” in which they point out:
This racial stereotyping… finds its fullest expression in a scene in King Louie’s jungle kingdom, the decaying, abandoned remains of some now extinct, supposedly “primitive” culture. Mowgli is captured by King Louie’s subjects and brought to this “other” world, where monkeys speak in jazz vocalese and everybody “swings.” …Taking the boy by the hand, King Louie, sporting a familiar black-coded voice, sings to him his famous song, “I Wanna Be Like You.” Once we make the obvious connection between King Louie and African Americanism—at least the African Americanism dear to white bourgeois liberal culture—the lyrics of his song become a humiliating revelation, for King Louie sings of his desire to be a man “and stroll right into town . . . ooo—I want to be like you.” According to Disney, “an ape can learn to be human too.”[29]
King Louie—voiced by Louis Prima, a white musician—and the other apes are (not so) thinly veiled caricatures of people of color, living in the ruins of a bygone jungle society, and dance to the sounds of Ellintonian jungle music. The use of jungle characteristics in “I Wanna Be Like You” shows how Ellington’s music has been appropriated by white filmmakers to subtly primitivize African and diasporic populations and marketed to children. “I Wanna Be Like You” starts in a minor tonality, includes use of tom-toms, as well as solos by a growling and muted trombone and trumpet. The use of so many of Ellington’s jungle tropes along with the setting of the movie in the jungle makes this, perhaps, one of the most on-the-nose uses of jungle music characteristics in cinema.
Techniques used by Ellingtonian wind instrumentalists in his jungle style remained as a musical trope representing the (often white) male gaze in cinema and television, though the target of that gaze has not consistently targeted Black women. The film Belly (1998) is an example of a movie written and directed by an Black filmmaker, and stars Black actors. In Belly, there is a graphic montage of Tommy, played by rapper DMX, having sex with a number of different women. The soundtrack employs distant drumming that has often used in movies to signify Africa, much like the examples previously examined. These drums are used briefly throughout the soundtrack, and while they do not sound like Ellintonian drumming of the 1920s and 1930s, they show how film composers of the more recent past have, as Ellington did, use preexisting musical tropes. Belly also references Africa as a key plot point and ends with the main character moving to Africa to start a new life.
The most commonly recognized feature of jungle music, growling wind instruments, also has the most enduring legacy as an erotic signifier. The eroticization of a growling brass instrument or saxophone has often been used as accompaniment for the entrance of the leading lady. In the movie Gilda (1946), when Johnny Farrell meets Gilda Mundson, the quintessential femme fatale, for the first time she is singing along with a recording of “Put the Blame on Me” featuring call-and-response by the big band’s raspy brass section and the woodwinds in a way that is reminiscent of Ellington’s “Ko-Ko,” an oft-cited example of the jungle style reappearing in post-Cotton Club work.
The growling wind instrument as an aural stand-in for sexual attraction and the white male gaze became such a cliché that it appears in a wide range of cinema including: children’s movies (Atlantis: The Lost Empire, 2001), action movies (Tango & Cash, 1989), and comedies (Airplane!, 1980; Naked Gun, 1988). The pervasive prevalence of saxophone being used in this cinematic role has led to the practice being dubbed “sexophone” or “high-heel saxophone.”[30] Much like the use of jungle style during floor shows, sexophone does not rely on the music alone, but its use within a visual medium. These examples also steer the eroticization away from Africa and African American women since all of the aforementioned cinematic examples feature white men meeting white women or a white man in drag in the case of Tango & Cash. This usage shows how certain musical devices that have been used to signify African primitivization and eroticization have remained to signify any target of the male gaze.
The use of jungle music characteristics in film and as accompaniment for Cotton Club floor shows carry much of their exploitive power due to their attachment to visual media. Many of Ellington’s post-Cotton Club works that utilized these same qualities were concert pieces that were not criticized for containing erotic undertones, though they have been examined for using the same problematically constructed tropes while boasting their “authenticity.”[31] Furthermore, Ellington’s use of jungle music elements as musical representations of Africa decades after his departure from the Cotton Club indicates that he did not conflate the sound of his music with the images they accompanied.
Duke Ellington is far from the only musician whose music has been used to fetishize Black women. In the opening lines of “Brown Sugar” by The Rolling Stones, Mick Jagger sexualizes Black women while making reference to painful chapters of African history without any sense of trying to make a profound point: “Gold Coast slave ship bound for cotton fields / Sold in the market down in New Orleans / Scarred old slaver knows he's doin' all right / Hear him whip the women just around midnight/ Brown Sugar, how come you taste so good / Brown Sugar, just like a young girl should.”[32] This example from The Rolling Stones illustrates the harmful sexualization of Black women by an all-white band playing, and profiting immensely from, an African American-conceived form of music. It is apt that The Rolling Stones are labeled a British Invasion band given the way they contributed to the legacy of fetishizing Black women that is rooted in colonial history.
The treatment of women in some hip hop videos has been viewed as so sexually exploitative that, as Rebollo-Gil and Moras note, “it is used as yet another tool by which white American critics and politicians further stigmatize the black male as violent and/or criminal,”[33] blaming the genre rather than critiquing or even acknowledging the historic social structures that have repeatedly reinforced a view of Black women as sexual objects. In Busta Rhymes’s music video for his song “Czar,” scantily clad women in exotic, Egyptian-like jewels and red skirts dance throughout. With this video, Busta Rhymes eroticizes African women similarly to the way they were eroticized in Cotton Club floor shows. One significant difference is jungle music was presenting an exploitative experience exclusive to white elites who had to pay big money while “Czar” is for the eyes of anybody with an internet connection. Duke Ellington was not the first artist to use (or have his music used) in a way that primitivized, exoticized, or eroticized African and diasporic people. As proven by songs like “Brown Sugar” and videos for songs like “Czar,” Ellington was also not the last artist. There is a long and continuing history of viewing Africa and African people as primitive “Others,” and the music of the Cotton Club is just a chapter in the narrative.
Navigating the competitive Prohibition-Era Harlem music scene, Duke Ellington employed a compositional idiom that would earn him acclaim as an individual artist of note. This same musical style would also be used to further narratives of a primitive and eroticized Africa, a centuries-long narrative that continually sexualizes and exploits black women at disproportionate rates. Because of this, the historic legacy of Duke Ellington’s jungle music represents the duality of an important body of work for one of the most recognized artistic geniuses in jazz history and the tool for upholding primitive colonial stereotypes of African and African American people.
[1] Caren M Holmes, “The Colonial Roots of the Racial Fetishization of Black Women,” Black Gold Vol. 2, 2016.
[2] Katrina Dyonne Thompson, “‘Some Were Wild, Some Were Soft, Some Were Tame, and Some Were Fiery’: Female Dancers, Male Explorers, and the Sexualization of Blackness, 1600-1900,” Black Women, Gender + Families 6, no. 2 (2012): https://doi.org/10.5406/blacwomegendfami.6.2.0001, 3.
[3] Ibid, 4
[4] Ibid, 5
[5] Ibid, 9-11
[6] Ibid, 14
[7] Joseph Vogel, “‘Civilization's Going to Pieces’: The Great Gatsby, Identity, and Race, From the Jazz Age to the Obama Era,” The F. Scott Fitzgerald Review 13, no. 1 (2015): 46-47, https://doi.org/10.5325/fscotfitzrevi.13.1.0029.
[8] “Jungle Music” has been the main focus of a plethora of writings on Ellington. Kimberly Hannon Teal’s “Beyond the Cotton Club: The Persistence of Duke Ellington's Jungle Style” in Jazz Perspectives 6, no. 1-2 does a fantastic job reviewing the previous literature surrounding Ellington’s signature sound and the myriad of ways scholars have praised and lambasted him for the style’s use.
[9] Tucker, Mark. "Jungle music," Grove Music Online, 2003, https://www.oxfordmusiconline.com/grovemusic/view/10.1093/gmo/9781561592630.001.0001/omo-9781561592630-e-2000240200.
[10] Duke Ellington, Music Is My Mistress (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1973) 71-72
[11] Ibid, 419-420
[12] The debate centered around Ellington’s intentions in using the term “jungle music” has been well-considered by many scholars over the last 35 years. A list of works that dissect this topic include: Norman C. Weinstein, A Night in Tunisia: Imaginings of Africa in Jazz (Metuchen, N.J. and London: Scarecrow Press, 1992), 12.; James Lincoln Collier, Duke Ellington (London: Michael Joseph, 1987), 93.; Richard Middleton, “Musical Belongings: Western Music and Its Low-Other,” in Western Music and Its Others: Difference, Representation, and Appropriation in Music, Georgina Born, ed. (Ewing, NJ: University of California Press, 2000), 72.; Lock, Graham. Blutopia: Visions of the Future and Revisions of the Past in the Work of Sun Ra, Duke Ellington, and Anthony Braxton (Durham and London: Duke University Press, 1999), 98; Teal, Kimberley Hannon. “Beyond the Cotton Club: The Persistence of Duke Ellington's Jungle Style.” Jazz Perspectives 6, no. 1-2 (2012): 123–49. https://doi.org/10.1080/17494060.2012.721292.
[13] Harvey G. Cohen, "The Marketing of Duke Ellington: Setting the Strategy for an African American Maestro," The Journal of African American History 89, no. 4 (2004), doi:10.2307/4134056, 292.
[14] Marshall W. Stearns, The Story of Jazz (London ...: Oxford University Press, 1970), 183
[15] Ibid, 183-184
[16] This same quote was used in Teachout, Terry. Duke: A Life of Duke Ellinton. New York, NY: Gotham Books, 2014; Lock, Graham. Blutopia: Visions of the Future and Revisions of the Past in the Work of Sun Ra, Duke Ellington, and Anthony Braxton (Durham and London: Duke University Press, 1999); Grandt Jürgen E. Gettin' around: Jazz, Script, Transnationalism. Athens, GA: University of Georgia Press, 2018.
[17] Kimberley Hannon Teal, “Beyond the Cotton Club: The Persistence of Duke Ellington's Jungle Style,” Jazz Perspectives 6, no. 1-2 (2012): pp. 123-149, https://doi.org/10.1080/17494060.2012.721292.
[18] Track information provided from private collection as well as Ellingtonia Discography. http://www.ellingtonia.com/discography/1924-1930.html
[19] Also recorded as “Harlem Twist” on January 19, 1928.
[20] Aaron J. Johnson, "A Date with the Duke: Ellington on Radio." The Musical Quarterly 96, no. 3/4 (2013), 370
[21] Teal, “Beyond the Cotton Club: The Persistence of Duke Ellington's Jungle Style,” 132
[22] Graham Lock, “Chapter 3: In the Jungles of America,” 80
[23] Cohen, “The Marketing of Duke Ellington: Setting the Strategy for an African American Maestro,” pp. 296, https://doi.org/10.2307/4134056.
[24] John Howland and Carl Woideck, “Authentic Synthetic Hybrid: Ellington's Concepts of Africa and Its Music,” in Duke Ellington Studies (Cambridge, United Kingdom: Cambridge University Press, 2017), 228.
[25] Ibid, 228
[26] Ibid, 230
[27] Teal, “Beyond the Cotton Club: The Persistence of Duke Ellington's Jungle Style,” 130, https://doi.org/10.1080/17494060.2012.721292.
[28] N. Frank Ukadike, “Western Film Images of Africa: Genealogy of an Ideological Formulation,” The Black Scholar 21, no. 2 (1990): pp. 30-48, https://doi.org/10.1080/00064246.1990.11412965, 30.
[29] Elizabeth Bell, Susan Miller, and Greg Rode, “The Movie You See, The Movie You Don't: How Disney Do's That Old Time Derision,” in From Mouse to Mermaid the Politics of Film, Gender, and Culture (Bloomington: Indiana Univ. Press, 2012).
[30] “Sexophone: Definition of Sexophone by Oxford Dictionary on Lexico.com Also Meaning of Sexophone,” Lexico Dictionaries | English (Lexico Dictionaries), accessed December 13, 2020, https://www.lexico.com/en/definition/sexophone.
[31] Woideck, “Authentic Synthetic Hybrid: Ellington's Concepts of Africa and Its Music,” 238
[32] The Rolling Stones, “Brown Sugar,” track 1 on Sticky Fingers, Rolling Stones Records, 1971, LP
[33] Guillermo Rebollo-Gil and Amanda Moras, “Black Women and Black Men in Hip Hop Music: Misogyny, Violence and the Negotiation of (White-Owned) Space,” The Journal of Popular Culture 45, no. 1 (2012): pp. 118-132, https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1540-5931.2011.00898.x.
