Stop Begging for a Seat at the Table—Build Your Own
Recognition is nice, but ownership is power. Here's why musicians need to shift their mindset.
I've been reading Coleman Hughes's The End of Race Politics. It's made me pause and look at the world, especially the music business, just a little differently, not just when it comes to race but also when it comes to power.
Let's be clear about what that means. Power isn't applause. It's not being featured on some list, being called "the best," or even being recognized by the mainstream. Power is the capacity or ability to direct or influence the behavior of others or the course of events. That's it. When you have power, you shape the game. You create opportunities for yourself and for others.
And here's what I've been sitting with: Too many of my musician friends don't think they already have it. They don't realize they have more agency, access, and leverage in 2025 than we've ever had. However, instead of using that agency, I keep hearing people complain about not being seen, not being ranked high enough, and not being included on someone else's list. It gets tiring.
A few days ago, I saw a post from a respected jazz drummer that really brought this all home.
He wrote:
"We let magazines tell us who's the drummer of the year or some other bullshit… When will y'all recognize we ALL drummers of the year? Send a message. I laugh at these polls. You got a cat like Tain—my dude—ranked at the bottom of a list? Really? Stop buying into the bullshit white media feeds you. STOP. To all the magazines, why don't you let Hutch help you reshape your damn polls to say we love ALL the cats. ENOUGH OF THIS SHIT."
I kinda understood the statement. Jeff "Tain" Watts is a living legend, a trailblazer. It's ridiculous that he's showing up near the bottom of a ranking made by people who couldn't even understand his phrasing.
But then I stepped back and thought: Why do we still care what these lists say? Why are we giving them so much weight?
Another comment on that post said this:
"Interesting how some pushed back on the idea of 'white media,' as if all things are equal. The denial of institutional racism is a HUGE part of the problem. The 'Black people do it too' argument, regardless of whatever degree of truth that statement represents, begs the question, 'To what end?' What have Blacks ever controlled in the jazz business? Not any major studio, not any major venue, not any major label, not publishing, not booking, and certainly not the media. To act as if these things are somehow just the natural order of things is beyond insulting to one's intelligence and a major impediment to leveling the playing field. White people need to speak out about racism the loudest."
And while I understand where that's coming from, it still leaves power in someone else's hands. It's a call for recognition from the very system that's ignored us for decades. That's not power. That's dependence.
Coleman Hughes talks about this—how we often focus too much on being acknowledged as an oppressed group instead of using our power to build our own systems. Too many people are still waiting for permission or praise from folks who were never trying to elevate us in the first place.
And that's what frustrates me. Because when I hear these complaints, I look at how many Black folks are already out here building empires. Jay-Z, Tyler Perry, LeBron James, Rihanna, Byron Allen, Bozoma Saint John, Daymond John—and even lesser-known giants like Don Peebles in real estate, Janice Bryant Howroyd in staffing, and Robert F. Smith in finance.
These folks aren't out here crying about not being in the top five of some list. The only list they care about is who owns what—media outlets, production companies, venues, teams, content, and distribution.
They're not asking to sit at the table.
They're building their own.
Meanwhile, many musicians I know are still caught up in chasing validation. They argue over polls, ask for recognition from people who've never understood the art or the culture, and beg to be "seen" when we could be focused on being in charge.
A friend once told me his wife won a Tony Award on a Sunday night. It was a beautiful moment—flowers, applause, press coverage. But what was she doing Monday morning? Auditioning. That trophy didn't guarantee her next paycheck. Itdidn't pay the rent. It was just a shiny moment, not real momentum.
So yeah, recognition is nice. Awards feel good. But they're not the goal.
The goal is control.
We've got the talent, the stories, and the vision. What we need now is the mindset to match the moment. We need to lean into the agency we already have and push deeper into ownership—owning the means of production, our platforms, our time, and our future.
That means launching the businesses, running the media companies, licensing the content, buying the buildings, funding the next generation, and telling our own stories—on our own terms.
Because the future doesn't belong to the people who shout the loudest about being left out.
It belongs to the ones who build.