Framed in Black

Abstract

I've had Nina Simone's “sinnerman” on repeat for months. The propulsive force of Simone's 1965 live version of this gospel song drives its ten-minute ferocity straight into the contemporary American zeitgeist. As she tells her audience in the lead-up to a lesser-known performance of the song, recorded in 1961, Simone learned “Sinnerman” when she was a “little bitty girl in revival meetings. It happened when my mother and lots more like her tried to save souls.” The song's judgment-day tale of redemption's refusal is told doubly, both by the sinner—“I cried rock / don't you see I need you, rock”—and by those from whom the sinner begs, if not forgiveness, then simply some measure of mercy from the divine justice to come: “Oh sinnerman, where you gonna run to?” The break in the middle of the 1965 recording strips the song down to Simone's handclaps on the second and fourth beats. All that remains is the tenuous intensity of the time neither of redemption nor of damnation but merely of “accompaniment” in the in-between (Tomlinson and Lipsitz). Called forth from that time, in all of Simone's live recordings, and missing from those of Les Baxter or the Weavers just a few years earlier, comes the insurgent cry for “Power!” over and over, to the point of near exhaustion.