NOTE: I originally wrote this piece back in early 2011 for a music magazine that went under. It was one of my first post-graduation assignments. I put together a bunch of articles for them that never saw the light of day - just my luck! Delane was/is a close friend of mine, so I was very happy when he told me that this article cheered him up when he was in hospital with a serious illness (the first of many health problems he has unfortunately encountered in recent years). As a final point, my writing style and compositional skills have improved dramatically since I wrote this, today I would do this piece totally differently. I'm mainly just sharing this with you because a) I like it and I always wanted to see it in print and b) because my mate Delane will get a kick out of it!
“DEAR GOD, if we give you Justin Bieber, can we have Bob Marley back?”
Delane Vine Black Elk saw this on Facebook “the other day” and just had to laugh.
But then, that’s Delane for you. He often “has to laugh”, because if not, he’d be forced to cry. A sensitive singer/songwriter who is best known for playing a touching, brittle piano (although he is probably happiest when ‘sexing’ and ‘sassing it up’ on jazz trumpet), Delane has lived many lives.
If you think you recognize his surname, it is because you do. ‘Black Elk Speaks’, published in the early 1930’s by John G. Neihardt, brought the Lakota Holy Man, and Delane’s (3x) Grandfather, to the attention of the world. A collection of oral recollections, the book detailed the events of both personal and historical relevance that Black Elk had lived through. It was one of the first works aimed at understanding the history of the American West from an ‘Indian’ perspective, as well as a milestone in spiritual literature.
Few were better qualified than Black Elk (who later went by the name ‘Nicholas’) to speak of these things. Nick Black Elk survived both the battle of the Little Bighorn, which saw Crazy Horse (a cousin of his) and Sitting Bull’s soldiers defeat the armies of General Custer, and the wounded knee massacre, which saw American soldiers draw their weapons and fire on a group of freezing, starving, largely unarmed civilians It was an act that is still uncomfortably classified as an ‘uprising’ in official US records.
The role of the Black Elk family as holy men stretched back to time unwritten, immemorial.
Black Elk’s descendants have continued to follow his spiritual path to this day. His grandson, Wallace (who may or may not have actually been a blood relative of Black Elk’s – accounts differ, although he was certainly a spiritual descendent and protégé, if nothing else), travelled the world educating non-native people on matters pertaining to the environment, Human rights and Native American spirituality. He authored several books and amassed a substantial following among Natives and non-Natives alike as a man of peace and great wisdom.
Wallace once showed his young grandson a shoebox filled with ticket stubs from planes, a souvenir of every place he had ever visited. He would sit the young Delane on his knee and tell him that the universe has a place for all of us, that good deeds ripple throughout our lives ‘like stones dropped in water’, and that love was the underlying, most important principle of everything.
Delane repeats these things to me during our interview, and frequently refers back to nuggets of timeworn Black Elk family wisdom during conversations, just as he does when writing songs. He adds his own spin on them, of course.
He also makes a lot of cock jokes.
Delane is gay, and not just bi-curious in a ‘Katy-Perry-aren’t-I-dangerous-look-at-me-and-don’t-forget-to-buy-the-merchandise’ sort of way, but as in all the way, 100% gay. All people of conscience understand that LGBT Americans don’t have an easy time of it, but what if you are descended from an ancient line of holy men, and fatherhood is expected to the point of being almost mandatory?
What happens then?
“To tell the truth, I was contemplating suicide,” says Delane (now in his 30s). He ‘came out’ aged 19, inspired by Ellen Degeneres doing the same. “I thought, if she can do it in front of millions then what the fuck am I so scared about a few family and friends? Her coming out saved my life”
Of course, it didn’t stave off prejudice for very long. “There are two different worlds,” he says, after taking a few seconds to locate the right words, “the (world of the) ‘City Indian’ and the ‘Rez Indian’ - on the rez there is such primal hate that many flock to the cities for acceptance. There is comfort there, knowing there are others like you” I detect a certain sadness in his words.
Delane is very conscious (some may say over-conscious) of the words he uses, or doesn’t use. He talks like a writer, except that I know it isn’t from writing that his wonderful way with words comes, but from a deep, spoken culture and the lessons learned from a hard life.
“I don’t look like anyone else” he says, proudly, when I ask him what reactions people usually have upon learning of his orientation. “I am very unique in that way, yet I don’t abuse the beauty that my people have blessed me with.” Delane has the same slightly hard face, high cheekbones and cool, intelligent eyes that most Native Americans are blessed with. He has wiry black hair, coffee-coloured skin and a warm, affectionate smile. “Its the kinda funky, weird, fun reaction I get from society that I like!” he laughs.
He laments that he was frequently mistaken for a girl in his childhood, and laughs that in his late teens he was snapped up by a modelling agency as a ‘talent’.”
He also has a way with people; a spellbinding ability both to influence and empathize - it is surely a genetic trait. He has used this ability to connect with those around him, battling the dual demons of homophobia and racism with his truly prodigious amount of charity work, and, of course, when baring his soul onstage. He is the first person to notice the special connection he has with any audience (usually before they do).
Way back when, the young Delane was part of a marching band, and it is from here that he began his love affair with the trumpet. Even then, as part of a huge ensemble, the young man stood out. Of dual Lakota/Navajo heritage, the full-blooded Amerindian was always going to look slightly different to the usual marching band musicians, but even then, there was more to it than that. “The best compliment that I ever received was about 10 yrs ago.” Says Delane, proudly.
“This young, scrappy-looking kid came up to me and said "because of you and how you played and performed, I chose to play the trumpet and wanted to be like you" he then said that music saved his life. He was headed down that ugly, dark path of drugs, gangs etc”
‘Drugs, gangs and etc’ is a typical Delane aside (it could even be a song title) it highlights a resilient personality, capable of coping, but also a weariness at life’s persistent inconsistencies and occasionally bitter aftertaste. Still, for every glass-half-empty moment, Delane has an abundance of positivity to share.
“To this day, that is what motivates me to share and give that gift that in turn also saved my Life. I had the same choice as that kid back when I was 11 years old, to run off down that ugly path, yet I chose music. Without it, I would not be here. I can guarantee that I would be dead...” he says, letting the last word hang. He’s deadly serious. In Delane’s world, music is life, beautiful, delirious, intoxicating. The only alternative is death.
For Delane Black Elk, Music is also a very spiritual thing. “It is almost as if I can see and feel the cells, the molecules, the breath. The blood in my veins when I play or sing” he smiles, “I always have a tune going on, its like I have my own symphony happening all the time. It’s been like that since I was very little”
Delane got his start in music from two distinct sources, one, his Father, who first lulled him to sleep singing old, well worn Lakota songs. As a child, Delane would listen and mimic his Father’s pow-wow songs. Thus, the first music he heard was ancient, powerful and pure. The second influence was his Mother, who had been taken from her parents and callously sent to a Catholic boarding school, where she was beaten with a ruler for even speaking a word of Navajo. Logically enough, she readily embraced the rebel music of the 1960’s, a huge influence on Delane’s own sound.
“Janis, Jimi, Etta James, Eva Cassidy, Mahalia Jackson and so on...” he reminisces. Without even a hint of deliberation, he names his Mum as his strongest musical influence. Though, as a fan, he has an extraordinarily eclectic taste.
“ I LOVE LOVE LOVE Southern Baptist choirs!” he confesses, without a hint of irony. “African, Cuban, Celtic, Rap, RnB” Musically, Delane Black Elk is a student of the world.
“I connect to it all, as we’re all related” he says, going on to describe all music as a sort of universal language “I may not be in Africa, Cuba or Ireland” he continues, “but with the music, I can visit those places. All I have to do is close my eyes.”
He has a special reverence for jazz great Dizzy Gillespie “anything sultry to sassy, and I can find my muse. Dizzy? Oh yeah, I could have all day sex to Dizzy!” He muses enthusiastically. He also holds Lakota protest singer and Ghost Dance movement activist Buddy Red Bow in exceptionally high esteem.
If there is one thing Delane hates (and there would only be room for one thing) however, it is ignorance. He seems to spend a good portion of his life battling it wherever he finds it. It is perhaps here that Delane’s strongest gift emerges. More so than a musician, Delane Black Elk is a natural born teacher.
He teaches piano, trumpet and singing, sometimes to make “a few bucks” but more often than not, simply to share the gift of music. He has chaired a number of non-profit organizations and done everything from handing out leaflets to raising awareness for others.
Recently, he has been heavily involved in the TREVOR project, which aims to prevent suicides among LGBTQ youths, providing a network of support and understanding for the young. Their confusion, pain and hurt are feelings he knows all too well.
The stigma in America, he says, is that Native Americans are all “drunken fuck-ups” stigmatised also are gay men who “Just want to butt-fuck everything in sight, take drugs and don’t care” Delane is both, and neither. Rather than scream until blue in the face, or beat his head against the nearest wall in an attempt to rally against these evils of the world, Delane battles back with integrity, honesty and gentle humour.
“When I find a person that has an open mind, I "swoop in" to take the opportunity to educate and make aware that tolerance IS a beautiful thing. I honestly do have that genuine care for people that transcends to all” he says.
Delane explains with a great deal of sadness that Native American alcoholism is rife both on the rez and in the cities (even claiming the life of his Father), and, though he enjoys a drink as much as anyone else (perhaps more so when the occasion calls for it!) he is quick to speak out against the demons of alcohol.
He teaches children of all races about Native culture, but also encourages them to explore their own culture and creativity. It is the sort of thing that Wallace would have done, and it comes across very clearly that were his Grandfather still alive, he would have been very proud indeed.
In his more sombre moments, or for inspiration, he is known to retreat into the mountains of Colorado for solace and peace of mind. As with many people, the closeness with nature reminds him of the fragile balance of which we are all a part.
When asked about his famous family, Delane describes it as a beautiful blessing, but also partly a curse. Much has been written of, and about the various characters of the Black Elk line.
“There is a saying that is common with the Lakotas, it is ‘Mitakuye Oyasin’. It means 'all my relations' or some interpret it as 'to all my relations'. That is inclusive of the red nation, Black, yellow, and White. I am glad that the documentation is there, many argue that some is not correct or that depictions are not accurate, to them I say; ‘put your vision out there, create what you think is right’. I say that as our people are becoming a dying breed...There was one main message that Wallace taught us all, and continues to teach us and that is to Love one another”
After a long and wide-ranging conversation (the notes of which, I can assure you, read like a short novel), Delane inevitably comes back to songwriting.
“I use Life experience. For me, writing something that may have affected my day, my Life, my journey in my journal or even on a napkin, any piece of paper I can find, helps me to express what is going on inside me. I try to capture all that is going on at that moment like poetry. The written word is a delicate body of dialogue that you; the composer, the poet, the creative, can capture what you experienced.”
He goes on to say, “The written word can be so beautifully constructed to pull emotions from people that they never knew they had. I was blessed to have someone in my life that taught me the craft of word construction and that words do have the power to give Life or to give death” Life and death again, black and white. Delane’s musical life is one of stark, yet constantly colliding, eternally effervescent, contrast.
Unsurprisingly, when I ask him how his life journey has affected his music, with special relevance to what obstacles have been the hardest to traverse. He returns once more to the common theme of death. “Death has been the toughest for me” he admits, though his tone is one of resilience and perseverance rather than defeat or gloom. “I rely on people. There are times when I get very lonely” In typical fashion, he dodges this melancholia in favour of an upbeat, fluent turnaround to pastures lighter.
“Then again I am my own best company. I can put my feelings into writing. I dwell in a vast mass of emotions whenever I sing a note, pick up my trumpet or play a piano. It’s as though those that came before me
are coming through me. The suffering or joy of those people comes out. I don’t know how to explain it, it just happens, dig?”
Dig.
We talk for a while about music in general, in-particular Miles Davis, The Sex Pistols and The Roots. Delane loves them all. Clearly musical boundaries are just one more social category to be ignored. Music is music. People are people. At the moment, his music is limited to a few local acts in and around his beloved Colorado. Backing vocals, solos, and some session stuff.
Recently, a record label dropped him following some sort of record-company BS, but he doesn’t dwell too long on it. The self-styled ‘Diva’ (a nickname bestowed upon Delane - apparently by himself) has a great deal more songs to write, stories to tell and people to inspire.
He has come a long way from those days on his Grandfather’s knee. This particular Diva has come a long way and walked a hard road, but it is the right one. It is the same rocky path that many before him have trodden; it is the path of greatness.
Lastly, I ask him, “What is your philosophy on life?”
There is a few seconds silence, followed by a few more. It shouldn’t be too hard, I mean, he talks about the nature of the Universe with such panache, is a member of two of the most discriminated-against groups in the world and has triumphed over every adversity thrown his way and is still standing.
“Oh shit!” he groans, for once speechless.