Is There Discrimination in the Record Industry?

The announcement by the National Assn. for the Advancement of Colored People’s official that the civil rights organization was launching a public campaign to pressure black superstars and their record companies to hire more blacks stirred up a hornet’s nest.

Melanie Lomax, the NAACP’s Southern California coordinator of its “Fair Share” campaign, charged that Tina Turner, Michael Jackson, Lionel Richie, Diana Ross and Prince have “almost entirely white operations . . . and have excluded blacks from their operation.”

But the ensuing controversy focused not on the alleged discrimination, but rather on Lomax’s breach of NAACP policy and procedure. Debates over whether Los Angeles area and national NAACP officials should denounce Lomax’s remarks and “apologize” to the artists were carried out in the local media. The issue became an international dispute, which diverted attention away from the original questions about the lack of employment opportunities for blacks in the record industry.

It is clear, now that the dust is beginning to settle from the internal bickering, that glaring questions remain. Is there discrimination in the record industry? Do black superstars--those who dominate both white and black music charts--have the responsibility to reach out and pull others up with them?

Motown Records first brought blacks in numbers into the record industry in the 1960s. The black-owned company opened the floodgates, providing opportunities not only for blacks to record, but also to work behind the scenes. However, as the “Motown sound” that rocked the nation with the richness of the black music experience began to ebb, so did those opportunities. And the numbers of those professionals who were able to “cross over” dwindled.

There are few survivors of that period. CBS Records, which is the home to such noted black artists and Motown beneficiaries as Michael Jackson, employs few blacks in so-called behind the scenes jobs--photographers, publicists, promoters, security directors, makeup artists, art directors, sound specialists and hair stylists.

Capitol Records, home of Tina Turner, currently has plans to “review” the situation. Warner Brothers Records, which received a much needed shot-in-the arm when Prince’s “Purple Rain” dominated the charts, was recently the target of a boycott by black radio stations because of what the stations described as “discrimination” in the distribution of concert tickets and other related perks.

Meanwhile, the Record Industry Assn. of America, a trade group that represents 85% of the record companies in the United States says its industry had $4.3 billion in revenues last year. The NAACP estimates that $700 million to $900 million of those revenues were contributed by black consumers.

Yet the employment statistics do not bear the same fruit. And free from federal regulation, government intervention or public pressure, none of the record companies have maintained an active affirmative action program and most have phased out their “Black Music” divisions. They call it being “colorblind.”

Fred Moultrie, Prince’s business manager, says the problem lies in blacks being able to gain the expertise in the first place. But members of the Black Business for Equity in Entertainment coalition--the group that originally solicited the NAACP’s support--say they’re faced with double standards. They have the skills, but not the opportunities.

Jackson, Ross, Turner, Prince and Richie have benefited from black community support. It was the black community that provided the initial revenue that put them in position to “cross over.” And now, the time has come for them to give back to the community what has been given to them. The tradition is there. Bill Cosby, Lena Horne, Harry Belafonte, Stevie Wonder and Sammy Davis Jr. have a long history of being outspoken supporters and employers of blacks in the recording industry.

But the responsibility is not only theirs. The record companies have an obligation to address the issue and rectify the pattern and practices of discrimination.

Meanwhile, it’s time for the NAACP to heal its internal wounds and work on its public image. Lomax’s decision to involve the NAACP in what is an indeed complex and important issue, albeit one perceived to be in violation of procedure, should be applauded. The NAACP has historically been the spokesman, the crusader for the disadvantaged and disenfranchised. Now is NOT the time to back down, even if it means taking on the people or the industry that have befriended it.

JERI L. LOVE

Los Angeles

Love is president of Black Journalists Assn. of Southern California.