In the early 1960s, the famed Chicago-based gospel outfit the Staples Singers were on tour when they went to see Reverend Martin Luther King Jr. preach. Afterward, back at their hotel, guitarist and bandleader Roebuck “Pops” Staples announced to his children (at various points the group included son Pervis and daughters Cleotha, Mavis, and Yvonne): “Listen. I like this man’s message. I really like this man’s message. I think if he can preach it, we can sing it.”
That, at least, is how Mavis Staples, now 78, remembers it. Mavis was just a kid when the Staples Singers got their start performing spirituals at Chicago churches, then made their name touring and recording as a gospel act. After that seminal experience with Dr. King, the band pivoted to protest music; traded songs with a very young Bob Dylan (he eventually proposed marriage to Mavis, but she declined); and became indelibly associated with the struggle for civil rights. Later they would pivot again, signing to Stax Records and releasing soul hits like “I’ll Take You There” and “If You’re Ready (Come Go With Me).”
With her unusually deep, resonant voice (she calls it “heavy”), Mavis was the group’s charismatic frontwoman and its likeliest breakout star. But for decades, despite collaborations with the likes of Prince, Mavis’s efforts to launch a solo career never quite achieved liftoff. Then, in her early 70s, she joined forces with Wilco’s Jeff Tweedy. Their first collaboration, You Are Not Alone, landed them a Grammy for best Americana album. One True Vine in 2013 earned another nomination. Then there was Mavis!, a 2015 HBO documentary about its subject’s remarkable six-plus-decade career; a tour with Dylan; and another album, 2016’s Livin’ on a High Note, for which Mavis commissioned a slew of artists—Justin Vernon, Nick Cave, Neko Case—to write joyful songs for her.
Tweedy did not produce Livin’ on a High Note (credit for that goes to M. Ward), but Mavis’s latest project reunites her with the Wilco frontman. If All I Was Was Black, due out November 17, is already being heralded as something of a return to form for the singer. Mavis never abandoned the songs of protest her family helped popularize (“March Up Freedom’s Highway” is a Staples Singers standby that she has kept in her live-show lineup, she tells me), but the new album is comprised entirely of what she might call “message music”—songs, their lyrics largely written by Tweedy, that “speak to our divided times.”
Mavis is the ideal messenger: Her rich signature growl, frayed by time, has acquired a raspy, bluesy anguish that jibes with the frustration articulated here. These are pleas for compassion, exhortations to try harder, appeals to our better angels. Tweedy’s lyrics (Mavis contributed to a few tracks) gesture to the headlines without directly invoking current events. “Little Bit” is told from the point of view of a mother whose son is shot by the police (Mavis explains it to me: “The words are saying, he didn’t have his license. They said he was fighting. So then they had to go get into a fight with him, you know?”). “No Time for Crying” is a pointed call to action in the face of gun violence (“You know, kid, bullets are flying. That’s what’s happening in Las Vegas. Not just Las Vegas: It’s been happening to young black men, young black women.”) “We Go High” adapts Michelle Obama’s DNC catchphrase into a jauntily catchy refrain that works so well you may forget who coined it first. (“I said, ‘Tweedy, maybe we can get her to do a spoken word on the album!’ He tried, but they’re staying hidden. And I don’t blame them. They are tired. They’ve done their job. They did it well.”) The title track—Mavis helped write it—is an explicit indictment of those who might look at her and see only the color of her skin. President Trump, with his many divisive crusades and dog-whistle politics, is only alluded to (“They lie, and they show no shame” goes one lyric on “Who Told You That?”). This is an album about building bridges, not burning them.
On the last track, “All Over Again,” Mavis, her voice almost inaudibly low, declares, “I ain’t done yet,” and thank God for that. The legendary singer, now on tour again with Dylan, spoke to me by phone about the choice to leave the president out of this and why she felt it was time to speak up.
Where are you right now?I’m in Durham, North Carolina, at a beautiful place where we come to exercise and eat healthy. I just wish I had more time to be here, but I don’t. I came to get some exercise and stretch and to be more ready for my tour with Dylan.
Does touring take a lot out of you?It’s not that hard. It’s a five-week tour, but we’ll be on the bus. I get lots of rest. We get to the venue. We have lunch and dinner. And the show is on. It’s really fun on the bus, because the band—all of us are together. We sleep. We have fruit, vegetables. It’s just a fun time. I’m excited to be going on tour with him again.
You mean Dylan. You also went on tour together last year.Yes, we already had our big reunion last year. I enjoyed it so much. I was glad to see Bobby. We had lots of conversations. I wasn’t expecting it again. I really wasn’t. When my manager told me: “Mavis, Bobby Dylan wants you to travel with him again.” I said, “Oh, great!” I’ve been happy ever since he told me.
Let’s talk a little about the music. Your last album, Livin’ on a High Note, was expressly a collection of joyful songs. This one addresses our politically divided times. Tell me about the journey from happiness to here.[Last time] we were changing up with a different producer. I told my manager, “I’d like to have a different songwriter on each of these songs.” I said, “I want a song that’s going to make people happy. I’ve made people cry, all the years that I’ve been singing.” Now I heard Pharrell singing [she sings]:“I’m so happy! / Come on, clap your hands . . . ” I said, “Oh, Lord, this is the greatest.”
But, as time goes on, two years later, I can’t sing happy songs right now. All I’m seeing that’s happening are miserable things. We’ve got a man in the White House who has brought, I feel, a rebirth of bigotry and hate. I know he’s got to know what he’s doing. It just hurts me so bad.
When I’m watching the news sometimes I feel like I’m back in the ’60s. It’s unbelievable. There are so many people who believe what he does. You have a lot of young people who are living in hate. This wasn’t happening before this president came in.
Did you participate in any way in the election? Did you support any candidate?No, no. I try to stay neutral when it comes to campaigning for politicians. I’ll sing at an inauguration, but it has to be the right person. This guy, they couldn’t get anyone to sing for him.
People are laughing at us. It’s really sad. I have talked to my father. I’ve said, “Daddy, you wouldn’t believe what kind of president we have right now.” I’m going to be singing my songs. I’m 78 years old. I’m healthy and strong and energetic. People say, “Mavis, when are you going to retire?” Retire! I’ve got work to do. I’ve got to continue what we started, as long as I can. I tell people that my father, he laid the foundation, and I’m still here, I’m still working on the building. Now I’m really happy to see these younger people. Chance The Rapper. Common; he does message songs. Kendrick Lamar. I’m so grateful because for years, no young people would touch what I’m doing. They realize now that they’re needed.
I noticed that you’re not using Trump’s name.Yeah, well, that would be a boost to him. That would give him a chance to come after us, a chance to tweet. He doesn’t deserve me to call his name. He doesn’t deserve Tweedy to write about him.
Did you come up with the name of the album, or did Jeff Tweedy?Oh, girl! “If All I Was Was Black.” I said, “Tweedy, we wrote this song. That has to be the title of the album.” He said, “Oh, no, Mavis. I don’t think so.” He said, “Mavis, people will say, Who does he think he is? A white guy? Writing a song like this?“ I said, ”Tweedy, to me, you are black.” We went on recording. Later that day, his wife, Susie, came to the session. Tweedy told her, “Susie, Mavis says I’m black.” And Susie said, “Well, if Mavis said it, I guess you’re black!”
When I tell people the title, they stop. It makes you think. Where is she going with this? If All I Was Was Black? You know? I love saying it. I can’t wait for this album to be released. There’s one song that Tweedy wrote that I love so much. That last song on the album, “I’d Do It All Over Again.” People ask me: “Mavis, would you really? Your entire life? Really?” I say, “Exactly the way it was.” I have regrets, but I live through them.
I love “Peaceful Dream.”Oh! I love “Peaceful Dream”! Peaceful dream! I told Tweedy, I said, “This sounds like the Staples Singers!” He said, “I know, Mavis, I know.” I could hear some of Daddy’s licks. I love that song. I’m glad you like that one.
Since you were a kid, you’ve had this iconic, deep, deep voice. Did you have to grow into it?I was proud of my voice. I got it from my mother and grandmother’s side of the family. My voice used to be much heavier than it is now. I was singing bass on our first record, which was “Uncloudy Day.” That was the first gospel record to sell a million. We’d go places, and people would place bets that I was not a little girl, 9 or 10 years old. The disc jockey would say, “That’s little Mavis Staples singing that.” People would say, “That’s not a little girl!”
When it came time to sing that part, my brother would step up, and you’d hear all over the auditorium: “I told you that wasn’t no little girl!” And while they were going through all that, I’d move in and say [singing low]: “Well, well, well, well.” And the place would go wild. One man was so mad at me. He shook his finger at me. “Little girl! I bet my whole paycheck on you.” My pops said, “Well, you shouldn’t bet!”
So, yes, I’ve always had a heavy voice. When we started on the road, I loved to stay in the hotel, call down for room service, and they would say, “Yes, Mr. Staples, yes.” Finally I just stopped telling them I was a lady.
I was a lady. My voice was heavy. And I’m proud of my voice. I’ve never been ashamed of it. I’ve always been proud of it. I had a different voice.
And you’re using it.Yep!
This interview has been condensed and edited.