wow you have a power voice Mr.Robert in this song is magic

In memory of Amir Locke, and in solidarity with the struggle for justice after his murder. 

I wrote this song the night the video of Amir Locke's murder by the MPD came out. I struggled for several days to fit it to music- the initial melody I wrote it for did not sound right, emotionally, when I played it. The question of how a white artist approaches the subject of a black person's murder by the police or by racist vigilantes is difficult. We must present an unflinching and honest portrayal of the violence behind white supremacy and policing to a society that loves to make excuses for that violence, to avert its gaze from the brutal cost of enforcing white supremacy. At the same time, we must respect the dignity and personhood of the victim of the murder, and not treat their death in a voyeuristic way- black pain and death must not be commodified for anyone's consumption. We must also be aware that black artists are working to reflect on these same injustices, and be ready to make way for and help platform black voices. We must be conscious, also, of the trauma that the subject matter of these songs brings to the surface. 

All of these make the subject of police murders of Black people very difficult for white artists to make music about. Yet, through the decades, attempts have been made- Bob Dylan's "The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carrol" and "The Death of Emmet Till", Sinead O Connor's "Black Boys on Mopeds", Abel Meropol's "Strange Fruit" stand as examples. Previously, I wrote "Trouble the Water", about the murder of George Floyd and the subsequent Minneapolis uprising, in collaboration with and for the voice of my bandmate, Jessica Garraway. 

I do not know if this song will sit right in the aftermath of Amir's murder. As a survivor of police brutality and as someone who has struggled and faced arrest by the MPD in fights against their racist violence, I have written it in a spirit of solidarity. I am open to criticism, to change, or to withdrawing it if it does not fulfill its purpose. 

I hope it works as a means to confront the listener with the reality of the violence and horror that a no-knock raid inflicts on its victims, and the impossible split-second choice Amir was forced to make when confronted with multiple armed intruders. Still being woken up from bed, Locke had a firearm in his hand, and did not point it at the police or put his finger on the trigger. A responsible gun owner, Amir Locke did not ready himself to fire his gun, as he was not able to positively identify the threat to him and what lay beyond it. In those few moments of terror, the police who had entered his home and kicked the couch he was sleeping on to wake him, shot him dead. He had no time to comply. Amir Locke was murdered.

“No Knock”, or the Murder of Amir Locke
Am C
No knock, just the shots, and the door was locked, 
G Am 
but the men were through the door 
Am C
The lights cut bright glaring in the night 
G Am 
And the boots pound over the floor 
F C G Am
No time to ask, no time to think or fight or run 
F C G Am
The boot kicked him awake and then the man fired the gun 
C G Am 
Nine seconds, since they came through the door

No knock, and the slide of a glock that shudders and rocks 
And it spits out the round 
It breaks through a body that shakes as he stutters awake,
Ears split by the sound
Wrapped in a blanket, like a burial shroud 
A pack of killers, did they make the city proud
In those nine seconds since they came through the door? 

No knock, just the shots, and the cops 
killed Amir Locke, still in his bed 
Another raid, one more early grave, 
Another poor kid dead
A warrant for a murder, that was their excuse this time 
He wasn’t on the warrant, he’s the victim of the crime
Just nine seconds since they came through the door

No Knock (Nine Seconds)

A collection of songs performed by Neil Gelvin.

Folk Songs and Fiddle Tunes

Chicken Real

'The Soil', by Brittany Delaney, spoken within 'We Shall Overcome', as sung by Robert Robinson at For Pete’s Sake: Celebrating Pete Seeger’s 95th Birthday, May 3rd, 2014 at the Fitzgerald Theatre in St. Paul, Minnesota.   Produced by Larry Long and American Roots Revue.  Sponsored by Community Celebration of Place. www.larrylong.org   www.communitycelebration.org


The Soil
By Brittany Delaney

The soil has seen so much where we are growing up
Has swayed with history
And waltzed with the hands of inequality
A romance
Kissed on the lips of generations long before we  arrived here

we paddle feet across this very dirt
Tracking over footprints so deep we stumble in the ridges
Swing on trees were strange fruit dangled
Turn corners on the tips of angels whose wings lie like murals
On top of shoulder blades
that carry the bridges that will link us from one hand to another


The soil has seen so much where we are  growing up
Has danced through the deafening sounds of disparity
Ballads played on the keys of human instruments
Melodies of inhumanity swirled into the blueprints of the sidewalks we play hopscotch on
Drenched into the music that lulls generations of family into separation
The soil
Where our grandparents patted
Tattered too tight shoes for miles to school houses not designed to teach them freedom
Where the sirens spray from blue and red lights
Unearthing the heartbeats from frightened souls who recognize the Jim Crow in the soundtrack
Symmetrical like hands above heads and prayers above tongues
Where mother’s arthritic hands have been broken into permanent steeples by late nights and empty beds in their wombs
Seen the marching of all colors  
Linked hands and arms fighting back bones forward


we paddle our  feet across this very dirt
Tracking over footprints so deep we stumble in the ridges
Turn corners on the tips of angels whose clipped wings lie like murals
On top of shoulder blades
Scared and beaten
But not defeated

some ask why not take the easier road
The less scenic route
Why not be like those who walk with their eyes closed to history as though it would stop guiding the way of our future if we just ignored it
Like the drums in our blood could stop beating if we just stopped listening to the snare line   
It is because we have to
Because every day we wake with one more opportunity to move air through our lungs
our necks have the duty to stay in alignment with the sky
our minds,
the responsibility to shovel deeper grooves into ridges embedded in the palms of our hands like hieroglyphics maps from God
we take this road because
this is the world that the meek shall inherit
That our children’s minds will make home in
daring young leaders waiting to run
their torches held high in hand
spirits unbroken like healing
like believing
like tomorrow
Because it chose us
Because there is too much before and after for us to pretend like we didn’t see the hands of ancestors lying like angel wings spread wide in our dreams
Interlocked with the steal of revolutions holding up our feet from birth
Whispering the hymns of equity deep into our souls
singing melodies of freedom in the wind
singing melodies of overcoming in the wind
sinding melodies of purpose in the wind


We paddle our feet across this road everyday
Tracking over footprints so deep
we will often stumble in the ridges but….

Our hands
though scared
                          are bridges
                                                 each finger
                                                                     representing
one half of a pink promise to overcome

we are all meant for this

we are all meant to develop
                                            what was planted
in the soil

Copyright Brittany Delaney 2014
All Rights

'We Shall Overcome: Brittany Delaney with Robert Robinson

I Don’t Believe In Violence
Words & Music by Larry Long
Produced by Melvin James

Larry Long - Lead Vocal & Guitar
Melvin James - Harmony Vocal & Guitar

If someone strikes I won’t strike back
If the strike again I will not attack
I’d rather talk then hear bones crack
I don’t believe in violence
 
Streets are filled with gang warfare
Some people don’t mind, they just don’t care
When children get killed, it’s never fair
I don’t believe in violence
 
Talk of war in the news
Iraq, Syria, Palestine, too
It all comes back to me and you
I don’t believe in violence
 
Nuclear missiles and Tomcats
Stealth bombers and poison gas
Oil spills and M-1 tanks
I don’t believe in violence
 
Jumping off buildings just like flies
Killing machines, don’t believe my eyes
Late at night I can hear them cry
I don’t believe in violence
 
Women are scared at night
There’s abduction, rape, filled with fright
Keep on running until you find the light
I don’t believe in violence
 
People living in landlord shacks
Keeping warm by burning trash
In need of food, they steal for cash
I don’t believe in violence
 
Martin said, “Do not kill.”
I don’t want dead bodies in landfills
Committing violence is not God’s will
I don’t believe in violence

Words & Music by Larry Long
 
© Larry Long Publishing 1991, Renewed 2017 / BMI

Larry Long - Lead Vocal & Guitar
Melvin James - Harmony Vocal & Guitar

Email: larryl@larrylong.org      
Web: www.larrylong.org · www.communitycelebration.org

I Don't Believe In Violence by Larry Long

Lifelong social justice advocate, Larry Long is a singer-songwriter, poet, educator, organizer, activist, and storyteller. Long’s work has taken him from rural Alabama to the Lakota communities in South Dakota. He has given voices to struggling Midwest farmers, embattled workers, and veterans. He was the troubadour on the American Agriculture Movement Tractorcade to Washington DC for parity, ran with Oceti Sakowin children on the Run For Freedom from Standing Rock to the prison in Sioux Falls, performed on Soviet/American peace cruises along the Volga and Mississippi Rivers, sang for Mrs. Rosa Parks at the 45th anniversary of the Montgomery Bus Boycott and organized the Mississippi River Revival, a decade long campaign to clean-up the Mississippi river.

'We Shall Overcome: Brittany Delaney with Robert Robinson

Larry Long

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