Martin Luther: Rebel Soul
By Sun Singleton
— Thirty-nine-year-old Martin Luther McCoy is in a rare class amongst his generation of indie musicians, a gifted funk soul rocker who has recorded and toured with The World Famous Roots Crew and channeled Jimi Hendrix as the character “Jo-Jo” in director Julie Taymor’s 2007 Beatles-inspired film Across The Universe, all while still managing to remain outside of the homogenizing influence of auto-tuned “black star power”. Even his twitter moniker “@MartianLuther” alludes to his outlier status. Over the course of the new decade, McCoy has produced three solid, soulful offerings under his own “Rebel Soul Music” imprint—the 1999 debut offering The Calling, 2004’s Rebel Soul Music, and a live album in 2006—nurturing a worldwide cult following in the process. McCoy shifts musical perspective between reformed street player, sweaty guitar slanger and slick erotic seeker, and much like his fellow musician-in-arms Cody ChestnuTT, he is faithful to his non-conformist muse. A heavily schooled devotee of his musical forebears but with an open ear to modernity, Martin Luther bravely keeps himself to the open road. From his native San Francisco, the musician chopped it up with Soulsummer.com about a possible upcoming tour with ChestnuTT, the passing of his older brother and the trials of a modern-day soul traveler.
SS: Can you tell us about the “Rebel Soul Festival”? It’s an upcoming tour with Cody ChestnuTT?
Rebel Soul Festival is largely Rebel Soul Music [the label] presenting shows of artists that we think represent Rebel Soul in action. It’s not just me that falls under that category or umbrella.
SS: Is Cody included in this Rebel Soul Movement that you’re speaking of?
Indeed. He’s one of the captains. [Actor/Musician] Saul Williams introduced us based on the fact that they both would be performing in San Francisco. I got a chance to witness some of Cody’s awesomeness opening up for Saul. We actually joined forces on stage that night and we pretty much been kindred ever since. And that was some time ago, maybe a decade or so. It’s our project. You know, somebody has to do something with regard to preserving the culture of soul music. So, if I’m not being booked by whomever the powers that be, or the current “Summer Jam” doesn’t include what I have to offer musically, than I’m behooved by the situation to get up off mine arse and make somethin’ happen.
SS: Why a “Rebel Soul” movement?
That’s born out of necessity based on the fact that I could see a long time ago that putting your heart and your music out there is dangerous ground for artists that wanna be popular. If art is what you are here to create, then I’m with the cats that’s fearless about that. I’m also doin’ what I can to continue the legacy of the soul singer, of the blues men, the guitarists, the music. Not just the sample or the technology, but the actual performance by people who have studied their instrument and their craft. I think things are a lot more push-button technology, fast-food production. It’s cool. It has a place. We are just keeping alive our music that we treasure, that touches us. From the heart to the heart, we’re preservin’ that. We’re pushin that. We slangin’ that.
SS: How did you decide to pursue music as your career?
I was always into it. I was writin’ since I was a child. But I didn’t know what it was gonna add up to later on. I didn’t even think I could do it—singing—because I didn’t know what I could come up with that would wanna make people come downtown and pay money to see me. I just figured I’d do it for other people. I tried to channel it in different ways. I just accepted it after college [at Morehouse in Atlanta]. Once I just started to do it, I started to get the direct results. So it’s just been an on-going thing. A work-in-progress.
SS: What was it like growing up a young musician in San Francisco?
Growin’ up in the city was such that you felt and heard the stories, or the music. The Santanas and their businesses, the Family Stone, the church where some of the family members still perform at and attend regularly. You hear about Hendrix passin’ through and Janis Joplin and the Grateful Dead, all these stories. You know all these things you hear about, you feel it. When I was younger, I wasn’t really tuned into that frequency. The streets had caught me by then. And it was more about the beats, and it was more about thuggin’, which had nothin’ to do with learning ya notes and studying ya scales. You could shine on the street side of things because it was really the darkness of the “street lure” that we was really being captured by, and there wasn’t music coming out that was gonna balance or counter-act what that whole magic spell that was being cast was doing to our minds. It was poisoning us ahead to some darker directions culturally. But I was also wit’ it, ya know, because I was goin’ to the club and this is the music that comes on. Fortunately, I had Stevie Wonder and I had parents and I had church. But it took more strength to stand musically against that and say “well I’m just not gonna contribute to the proliferation or the saturation or deterioration of this precious legacy, this music that I hold dear. I’m not just gonna sample it. I’m gonna see if I can find a way to re-present it.
(Check out his video for “Daily Bread” for one such re-presentation)
SS: Who do you count in that legacy?
It’s an ever-growing process. You know, when I was diggin’ into the vocal vibrato and the wordplay, lyricism? The Donny Hathaways, the Curtis Mayfields. When I fell in love with the guitar—the Hendrixes, the Albert Kings. James Brown with the element of funk and his creation of “the one” and George Clinton’s co-opting of that James Brown “hit me on the one wit it” and loopin’ that and comin’ up with something. You know, Hip Hop has largely been built on the loop, so it’s the culture of the baddest things that were ever created that I subscribe to. It’s string arrangements. It’s Claire Fischer, it’s Prince. Technological [innovation], I’m with that too. Dilla. His ability to chop a beat and create a feeling and an emotion in hip hop, in the slump and the darkness. And Wu-Tang. I listen to a lot of rock ‘n’ roll, too. I’m eternally with The Police and Sting. I really dig Coldplay, The White Stripes, Good Charlotte, Green Day. I’m diggin Shinedown right now. They got a song that reminds me of my brother. My brother just passed this year.
(Check out the video for “Temporary Kings,” which was recorded in his brother’s memory.)
SS: Wow. How has the process of grieving your brother’s passing impacted your musical output? Has there been any directional shift?
Yeah. It just shut it down. My brother was largely part of the reason I do what I do. The reason why I did [music] and the clownin’ and the fun and the dialogue and the choppin’ up things that we have learned about the entertainment business—a lot of that was a part of our relationship. So it just doesn’t exist anymore and it’s like “Oh, dig that.” But you know, my music is also here to serve a purpose for other people, which I have to remember. But it’s not like [life is] without any turmoil. We pushin’ on through. Tribulation—we used to it. Belief, and the faith that we’ll get through it. Ain’t too much to do but walk.












Here is one mo diamond nugget. Martin Luther’s duet with the ultra magnetic singer Shelby J. (D’Angelo, Prince).
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OvkcqlD5oFo&feature=player_embedded