'Weird and wild and extraordinary *is* normal here.'
— Mikel Mwalimu-Banks, musician & artist, 72, native New Yorker.
Is a New Yorker born or made? Every Thursday, city natives and non-natives dish on life in New York in a Q&A. Follow @knowthescorenyc on Instagram for more interviews and subscribe below!
Mikel Mwalimu-Banks is a legend of the New York City music scene or, as he puts it, “a semi-retired rock and roll negro.” The musician, teacher and artist was born in Queens in the 1950s before moving to Long Island and was a member of the improvisational multi-genre band the Burnt Sugar Arkestra for more than 20 years.
A graduate of the School of Visual Arts, Mikel could never ignore the pull that music had over his life from a young age and has also been an instrumental part of several NYC jazz bands. He was once a promoter at Sputnik in Bed-Stuy, a now-shuttered institution that was a bedrock of music history in the city, hosting artists such as DJ Kool Herc, hip-hop’s founder, and KRS-One. His legacy in New York has also been informed by stints living abroad in Frankfurt in the 1980s. There, Mikel says he experienced being an immigrant in an environment where foreigners could create opportunities for themselves. We spoke in mid-September at his home in Harlem.
Mikel also hosts Speaklife, an art and music podcast focused on Black men’s wellness and artists living with disabilities. He shares more tips for navigating life in NYC on Instagram, @knowthescorenyc. You can also find him at @mikelspeaklife.
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I: You were born in Jamaica, Queens. What was growing up in Queens like in the 1950s and 1960s?
M: At that time, it was all homeowners, so there weren’t a lot of apartment buildings. There were the projects nearby—at that time, projects were still a new idea. Multiple housing was still a new idea. Government housing was still a pretty new idea. Most of the people on my block were homeowners and business owners. So many musicians and artists come from that community and it took me a long time to understand why.
We figured it out amongst ourselves that the musicians came up because your parents were middle class. They both either had jobs or had businesses to run and they were out of the house. Most of us were latchkey kids. So they would give you an instrument or a thing to do, besides your schoolwork, and you had a basement to do it in. So that community has really raised so many unbelievable visual artists and artists of all sorts— dancers and fabulous musicians.
Including yourself!
That place is very special, yeah.
How does the city that you grew up in look now, compared to your first memories here?
A lot of those houses (in that area) were made to be single-family houses and now they’re multiple-family houses. The wear and tear of that neighborhood and the economic blight and the attack on those middle-class Black people with the crack era really decimated that area. Now, it’s being built back up because of its proximity to Kennedy Airport, so there’s a lot of money being poured into that community. Still, in the areas that are blighted, we’re not quite seeing the uplift money.
What is your favorite New York City memory?
My favorite thing to do in New York City is see music, because there’s so much music everywhere—especially in the summertime—free shows with really great artists. Some of those great moments include seeing Eddie Palmieri in Washington Square Park with The Salsa All-Stars; Alfredo de la Fé, the violinist; seeing John Lennon sitting in Washington Square Park with a guitar like every other hippie back in the day. I guess he was hanging out with David Peel. John Lennon could be in Washington Square Park and not be flooded by people. He’d just be chilling there, smoking a joint, playing his guitar. One of the many memories is just walking down the street seeing Mick Jagger, and he’s like, “what’s up, mate?” And he just keeps it moving. Seeing David Bowie at Barnes & Noble with his daughter, buying books. That’s what makes New York so fabulous and why so many artists from every level, from the people who you’ve never heard of to the people who you can’t help but hear of, love New York. Weird and wild and extraordinary is normal.
What’s the biggest gift the city has given you? And, on the flip side, is there anything the city has taken away from you?
The biggest gift are the people who have gravitated to New York. Besides the native New Yorkers, there are so many brilliant minds that come here to be in concert with each other. Just the amazing people that I’ve been in contact with on a personal level is mind boggling. That’s a gift that New York continues to give me.
What New York has taken away from me is…it’s really a place where you have to struggle to survive because the rents are ridiculous. You can have a closet of an apartment and it’s two thousand-something dollars. Back in the 70s, when New York was blighted and the federal government told New York to drop dead, artists gravitated to places that were burnt up, like the Bronx and the Lower East Side. You could buy a building for a dollar. Some of these people are millionaires now. Some of them weren’t so smart. I was smart enough to do that, but I couldn’t convince anybody to do it with me. But I lived in some of these blighted buildings and it allowed you to be able to create, to be an artist and not get paid top dollar and still be able to do your thing. New York is always this fabulous yin and yang.
What was it like living in Frankfurt, Germany?
I loved it there. It’s a big city but a small town, so I got to know all the artists and the business people that surrounded the artists. That was fabulous for me because I could make a living. Even being an immigrant to that country, I was able to make a reasonable amount of money to live and freely fly back and forth to New York. That was around 1983, 84, 85 and a little bit of 86.
Did living in Frankfurt help you to see New York with different eyes when you came back?
Yeah, it did. When I came back to New York, I was homeless. I had to connect the love and friendship dots, which happened very rapidly because I’m a New Yorker. I was able to connect those dots and find a place to stay and build a whole community of artists based on a lot of the people that I already knew before I left.
For someone moving to New York who doesn’t have a community here, what’s one thing that helped you build a community that you would advise them to do?
Don’t bring closed-mindedness here and don’t bring closed-heartedness here. It’s so easy to meet people here and there are so many places to do it. (For example) going to an art gallery, especially small ones, you may strike up a conversation about art, and then it’ll turn into a conversation about yourself.
A lot of people come here because it’s a big city. That’s their reason for being here— they can meld into this crowd and become invisible. So if that’s what you want to do, do you. But if you want to create a community here in New York City, it can be around so many different things and for so many different reasons.
What do you think is the biggest challenge the city faces now?
Gentrification is a curse and a tiny blessing. I don’t know if you remember the song Pop Muzik (by M/Robin Scott): “New York, London, Paris, Munich. Everybody’s talking about pop music.” It’s a corny ass song, but the thing that’s so great about that song is the cities that it named, what they’re talking about is years ago, if you were a foreigner and you moved to New York, you had no idea what the rest of America was like. If you moved to London, you don’t know what England’s like, not even a little bit. If you moved to Paris, you know nothing about France. These cities were places within themselves. If you lived in Munich or Hamburg or Berlin, you had no idea what the rest of Germany was like. And so the gentrification of New York City is disheartening simply because it’s being made into everywhere else. In New York, everything fly and incredible that you can think of is Black culture. Period.
A lot of the white people that are coming here, they don’t want to be a part of what’s already here. They want to create something new. And that something new is something like no culture, no fun and no heart and no soul. And the thing that’s so great about New York, just like Paris or London or Amsterdam or any city that is a standout, is it has its own soul and its own flavor.
How would you describe your relationship with New York?
My relationship with New York is tenuous now, because I’m an elder and me and my wife want to live around some nature. All the things that used to excite both of us about New York like the hyperactivity, the crowds, the noise, the non stop energy, we’re kind of over it and it doesn’t belong to us anymore. New York is for young people. I still have a vast respect that New York has kept certain art institutions that, no matter how much the federal government tries to eliminate them or neuter them, they’re never going away because artists are too powerful. Artists rebuilt New York City. The reason why people really wanted to come back to New York is because of the art scene in the 70s and 80s, because of the music here, because of the visual arts here, and because this is the place that nurtured and created that for the rest of the country and the world. I’m grateful that that’s still a part of New York.
It’s harder for artists now because of the living expenses here, so we’re not the vanguard anymore in the world in the way we used to be. But I’m so grateful for places like Lincoln Center, Carnegie Hall, Brooklyn Museum, who have actually reached out to the actual artists who made New York awesome again. I’m grateful to all of these organizations.
In your view, how can someone moving to New York make roots here without ripping up somebody else’s?
So many people come here with the idea that they’re going to be a big artist. If you come here with dreams and you follow them, this is one of those places where those dreams can come true. If you come here with the idea that you’re going to step on everybody’s toes to get where you want, your dreams will probably come true too, but you’re gonna generate a lot of disdain and I don’t think that works so well. That’s just my belief. I see people who are not good people and not nice people who are very successful, but most of the people that I see, especially in the arts world that are successful, are really lovely and awesome people, and there’s so much of that to go around in New York City.
When I got married, we moved to the Bronx. There’s all these thug dudes hanging out in front of the building and I always greeted them. One day, I was coming out and one of the brothers was like, “yo, yo, man, can I ask you something?” I was like, “what’s that?” He’s like, “yo the lady with the white in her hair and the two boys, that’s you?” And I was like, “yeah.” He was like, “aight.” That was the end of his question.
One day, I say to my wife, “baby, do those cats downstairs give you any grief or talk bad to you, or say anything out of pocket to you?” She’s like, “nah, they’re mad respectful. They’ll be smoking a joint and i’ll be coming with laundry or whatever and they’ll ask ‘Yo, sis, you need some help?’” So my suggestion for people coming here is, those cats that are standing on your corner who you think are dangerous, you don’t have to introduce yourself to them or anything, but just greet people like they’re people. If a homeless person asks you for money, don’t freak out. If you can’t help them, just say, “I’m sorry I can’t help you.” Just treat people with some humanity. I didn’t know I had protection in the hood, but because of just the tiny bit of respect given, you get mountains of respect in return.
When all is said and done, what would you like your impact on New York City to be?
This is going to sound a little egotistical, but I think I’ve already impacted New York in a certain way. Yesterday, I was rolling around in the neighborhood and I rolled past the restaurant here on Lenox Avenue. This brother was like, “yo, what’s up, brother? I remember you. How are you doing, man?” I didn’t know this brother from Adam. I had no idea who he was, but he was excited to see me and he’s like, “yo, I know you very well. I’ve seen you perform a bunch of times.” It kind of blows my mind that people remember me at all. I can’t ask for much more than that. With the music thing, I’ve made a mark that I didn’t even really give any thought to, until it started to come back to me from people who [recognized me].
And just my visibility. Back in the day, I had a style that stood out. A lot of the things that stand out now are really way over the top, because, (for example) locs have become regular. You can have a job now and have locs. When I had locs, you couldn’t have a job. When I had a nose piercing, you couldn’t have a job. When I had this style of clothing, and having your nails done, you couldn’t hang. If you had locs and they had a style to them, you couldn’t hang. All of those things have been normalized now.
So I do have a legacy as a pioneer, and there are people who actually acknowledge me for being the forerunner of who they are. I’m very extraordinarily, ridiculously, absurdly humbled and honored by that.
For more of Mikel, follow @mikelspeaklife and @knowthescorenyc. You can also visit mikelspeaklife.com.
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Thank you for reading :).
such a good interview
One of the most bad ass people in all of New York City, because he’s a true artist and he’s giving and he’s loving.