This was how we reckoned with our melting pot: crudely, obliviously, maybe with a nice tune and a beat you could dance to.Ī nation that considered itself very space-age and worldly enjoyed quaint spins on sentimental Italian music (Thats Amore and its pizza pies) and Trinidadian calypso songs about hard, simple labor (Day-O and its bananas). And of course there were the minstrel shows, in which people with mocking, cork-painted faces sang what they pretended were the songs of Southern former slaves.
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March 2023
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