“And I Said Nothing”

Steven Macardican
5 min readMay 12, 2021
Mingus was known as a bass player, but often played piano with his band.

The story of civil rights and the fight for freedom is one speckled across the poorly sewn quilt that is the timeline of human history. We associate the term “Civil Rights” with a fight here in the United States that is thought to have ended in the 1960s by most. The heroes and visionaries who fought this battle, however, never got to see an end to their service. Progress is made, institutions are changed, and advancement is advertised, but the human psyche remains unchanged and thus, hatred is still spewed. A hero of this early civil rights era was Charles Mingus, world renowned jazz band composer. He wrote and premiered a piece of music, “Don’t Let it Happen Here,” at the height of the fight for civil rights. The premiere of this piece was not one of triumph and applause and it was not met with world changing peace. The premiere of this music, this cry for help from a black man in America, was met with almost no reaction from the crowd. This premiere was a sign to Mingus that maybe “it” had already happened in his own country.

The story told to those in attendance at the Monterey Jazz Festival in 1965

“Don’t Let it Happen Here” premiered at the Monterey Jazz Festival on September 8th 1965 by Mingus following a “triumphant” showing in 1964. The piece is much different than most jazz music but is a calling card of Mingus. This piece in particular opens with a lone trumpet that calls the speaker to action. The speaker then reads off the lyrics with little to no musicality in voice, he is telling a story in spoken dialogue rather than singing his part. “Don’t Let It Happen Here” was first recorded and released in the acclaimed “Blues and Politics” album by Mingus that was released in 1999. In this version the lyrics are switched around, but the most critical change in this version from the version premiered in 1965 is when the speaker ends with “we all have a right to freedom,” rather than the original “I was as guilty as they were of genocide…” In the recorded version the piece goes into a section that is more common to standard jazz form that has an improv section. The haunting interlude played between the speaker and the improv section then repeats before the end of the song where the speaker has some more final words based around that same phrase, “we all have a right to freedom.” Another interesting point about the release of this album in 1999; Mingus passed a way at the age of fifty-six in 1979. The album was released by his publishers and wife, Sue Mingus, 20 years after his death. The fight for freedom was still so strongly instilled in everyone’s minds after Mingus’ death that they thought it fitting to release the music in this way. Whether Mingus would have approved of the arrangement is unknown, but the music was changed so harshly from the widely unsuccessful premiere at the Monterey Jazz Festival that it is safe to say that Mingus was willing to adapt to get his ideals to an audience.

The premiere of “Don’t Let It Happen Here” in 1965 at the Monterey Jazz Festival was not a very successful one. Each act played beyond their time frame before Mingus. Mingus was so upset over the event that he led the band offstage after only 30 minutes to the tune “when the Saints go Marching in.” There is no existing recording of Mingus’ performance at this festival in 1965, but no well executed, well received premiere would be followed with a sarcastic march off the stage. Mingus was angry that his music was not appreciated for what it truly was. In his next performance of “Don’t Let it Happen Here,” his anger towards the audience was on full display.

Mingus performed the same piece a little over a week later at UCLA and after introducing the name of the piece said “please.” There is immediate rustling of the audience. He adds to the original lyrics written for the first performance and seems accusatory toward the audience of persecution. This performance is much longer which is possibly due to the fact that the premiere at Monterey was doomed from the start. Mingus adds vocals to the end of the tune after it is opened for improvisatory solos and sectional playing as a standard jazz chart would be. His speaking seems reminiscent of rambling and I believe it to be unscripted. Mingus even pauses his monologue to say something to a band member that sounds like confusion before abruptly shouting “Don’t Let it Happen Here!” to end the piece. It is met with a great shower of applause from the audience. The recording for this piece is believed by some to be the premiere of the piece, but thanks to Todd S. Jenkins’ book, I Know What I Know, we have accounts of Mingus’ life and music detailing the true premiere of the piece in question to have been at the Monterey Jazz Festival. The premiere of “Don’t Let It Happen Here” is not talked of in great detail in many places, but Jenkins notes that it was met with “Sparse Acknowledgement” in the premiere and seemingly perceived better in the performance at UCLA.

The fact that this music was released decades after Mingus’ death is evidence enough that “it” may have already happened here. The Mingus Big Band still lives on, performing in New York City at the Jazz Standard on Monday nights. Mingus lives on, and his fight for freedom lives on through this music whether it was received well or not. People can say nothing as long as they’d like, but with men like Charles Mingus speaking up, hopefully it doesn’t happen here.

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