I’m thinking about the links between our discussion tonight concerning The Undercommons and my feelings and experiences with the world of “Great Black Music,” the tradition, culture, and pedagogy of the Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians, and its orbit.

What occurs when you move away, not in opposition, but through your own accord? Not a counter to, but “the new thing?”

Real “new things” aren’t linear progressions. While nothing is new, ever, we can achieve “something else.” They are built, mixed together, a composite of the rubble around them. Importantly, some people see rubble where buildings still stand.

So, with the words of Harney / Moten in mind, after sharing a drink with Chaun and Nate after they stopped over at the house, after I put the kids to bed, it seems only fitting to play this cut from Philip Cohran and the Artistic Heritage Ensemble, as the chorus keeps ringing in my head:

“Got to get myself away from here…

Got to get myself away from here…

Got to get myself away from here…

I gotta to make it right away!”