A Brief History of the Protest Song in America

Not too long ago, I started writing an article about the feeling of “being born in the wrong generation.” I navigated the iconic era of the 60s and 70s that so many yearn for, using music as a lens for exploring youth and DIY cultures. In exploring the iconic songs and pictures of bell-bottomed protesters on the streets of the generations before me, I discovered I was enthralled by another phenomenon: protest music.

Source: The New York Times Photo by John Olson

Some argue that the 60s and 70s were the most influential decades for protest music, but its roots stretch far earlier. All the way even back to the 1800s.

“It mostly sources from folk music,” says Emerson College Jazz History and History of American Popular Music professor Eric Hofbauer, “maybe early blues or early kind of Scotch-Irish folk music [...] you could cite folk hymns and work songs that often put in information about the Underground Railroad into lyrics about how to run away and escape slavery as a type of protest music.”

The rich music industry we know today was nonexistent in the early years. Radio wasn’t around yet, records weren’t being made until the late 1800s, and songs were spread through touring shows and operas. Protest songs wouldn’t make their way into these heavily state-funded productions because of their politically driven messages. Instead, they had to be memorable and straightforward, relying on light instrumentation so they could spread by word of mouth among picketers and activists.

The 20th century marked a turning point for protest music in the media, with the popularization of commercial radio introducing the voices of marginalized people to a wider audience. Hofbauer describes this transition as the transition between “two roads”: people’s music and the music industry. By 1935, radio was at its “Golden Age,” and Tin Pan Alley, the center of the American music publishing industry, was on the rise.

Hofbauer believes most historians would point to Billie Holiday’s 1939 song “Strange Fruit” as the breakthrough moment for protest music in pop culture.

“That was probably the first big moment of, whoa, protest music can have a pop culture impact,” he argues. “Most historians will point to that song as really like where a pop star—not folk music, not regional folk music that no one’s heard of except if you were there—but everybody had heard of Billie Holiday in the late ’30s, and here she is singing this anti-lynching song.”

He also emphasizes that the 1930s were a radical time for protest music, though often overlooked. “There was just as much, if not more, protest music coming from Woody Guthrie and those kinds of folk singers that were singing about the unions and establishing workers’ rights, and then also coming out of [the church, jazz, and African-American experiences] with folk music and blues.”

This period would set the stage for the most iconic era of protest music: the 1960s and 1970s. Hofbauer argues that most people think of this period because of its concentration in the pop industry and because many who lived there are still around to tell stories.

“The music coming out of the 60s and 70s — whether it be the British Invasion or the psychedelic rock movement, with all of its various protests — second-wave feminism, anti-war movement, civil rights [...] You know, that generation — the baby boomers — are still kind of around and dominating the media,” he emphasizes. “They’re not wrong. It is kind of that iconic establishment of protest music.”

This era brought protest music to the forefront of popular culture. While we could list iconic figures like Bob Dylan, Marvin Gaye, and Joan Baez, the truth is that countless artists contributed to this generational moment of music, too many to list.

Bob Dylan’s “Blowin’ in the Wind” and Sam Cooke’s “A Change Is Gonna Come” became anthems for the civil rights movement, posing questions about freedom and peace that echoed across the country. Marvin Gaye’s “Mercy, Mercy Me” challenged environmental distress and climate change. Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young’s “Ohio” responded to the Kent State shootings, capturing a generation’s outrage and grief. An endless number of songs define the activism of this era.

As the Vietnam War came to a close, the volume of protest music began to decline. Though the spirit of protest didn’t die with the 70s, it did start to slow. In the 80s, protest music adapted to new battles like economic hardship and political disillusionment. Bruce Springsteen’s “Born In the U.S.A.” is a strong example, telling the story of a veteran forced to join the army after getting into legal trouble, exposing how the power class failed everyday Americans.

By this time, genre boundaries posed no threat to protest music. Protest could be found everywhere: hip-hop group N.W.A’s “Fuck the Police,” punk band Dead Kennedys’ “Nazi Punks Fuck Off,” or new wave band Oingo Boingo’s “Capitalism.” Issues grew broader, reaching across communities and allowing protest music to thrive in new spaces.

In the 90s, bands like Rage Against the Machine exposed political corruption with raw anger, Public Enemy explicitly confronted systemic racism, and Bikini Kill fueled the Riot Grrrl movement with feminist anthems.

Protest music continued to play a major role in the music industry for decades until the 2000s, when it dropped off substantially. While protest music hasn’t disappeared, with artists like Beyonce and Kendrick Lamar keeping it in the cultural landscape, it is not as dominant in media as it once was.

Source: AZCentral

Hofbauer believes this results from the loss of monoculture, a time when major labels or television channels would financially back an artist to become the voice of a generation.

“My guess is there’s tons of protest music, and it’s sitting there all on Spotify [...] There’s nobody out there searching for that stuff and saying, ‘I’m gonna put this on my label,’” he says. “The system isn’t there to support the voices.”

Has the system ever truly supported these voices? Maybe not, but when the industry failed, the people were there, backing the movements and the music. DIY scenes have always stood at the forefront of people’s movements.

Mosh pit at Boston Fire Aid benefit show. Photo by Grace Abdayem.

“Whether it’s underground hip-hop or punk rock or modern jazz or whatever,” says Hofbauer, “those DIY scenes are all about these themes.”

That’s why it is so important that these scenes are not lost. Protest music thrives on the continued strength of community.

“How they do better is, again, trying to keep in touch with the community at large because the community is hungry for it,” Hofbauer argues. “Finding ways, whether through old models like putting up flyers and coming to campuses, or using social media, or a combination of both, it’s really about getting people out together. Because protest music works when there’s a community behind it.”