By Frances Murphy Draper
AFRO CEO and Publisher
As June arrives, so does the rhythm that lives in our bones and dances down our streets. It’s Black Music Month—30 glorious days to celebrate the soundtrack of our heritage, our hustle and our hope. From smoky jazz clubs and soulful ballads to gospel choirs, hip-hop verses and go-go grooves, Black music has always been the heartbeat of the Baltimore-Washington corridor.
Here in our region, the echoes of history ring loud. We still hum “God Bless the Child” and “Strange Fruit,” thanks to Baltimore’s own Billie Holiday— “Lady Day” herself—who found her voice in the rowhomes of West Baltimore. Then there’s the zoot-suited genius Cab Calloway, who let loose his signature cry—“Hi-de-ho!”—from Pennsylvania Avenue to the Cotton Club.
We also remember Chick Webb, the brilliant, drum-thundering bandleader born in East Baltimore. He mentored a teenage Ella Fitzgerald and led one of the hottest swing bands at the Savoy Ballroom. And Eubie Blake, the composer and ragtime legend who gave us “I’m Just Wild About Harry” and co-wrote the first Broadway musical written and directed by African Americans. Both men helped put Baltimore on the musical map long before GPS was invented.
Meanwhile, Washington, D.C., gave us its own musical royalty. Duke Ellington, the jazz titan born in the Shaw neighborhood just steps from U Street, shaped the sound of an era. From “It Don’t Mean a Thing (If It Ain’t Got That Swing)” to “Mood Indigo,” Ellington brought elegance and edge to every note—reminding the world that the nation’s capital could swing with the best of them.
Baltimore also gave us Ethel Ennis, its First Lady of Jazz, who “bloomed where she was planted” and offered the world “Don’t Go to Strangers.” And Ruby Glover, the city’s Godmother of Jazz, not only lit up local clubs with her smoky voice but also taught jazz history and helped found the Billie Holiday Vocal Competition.
But jazz wasn’t the end of the story.
The Royalettes, Baltimore’s glamorous teen girl group, swept onto the national scene in the 1960s with their lush hit, “It’s Gonna Take a Miracle.” Mario, known for his hits, “Just a Friend 2002,” “Let Me Love You” and more, also hails from Baltimore. Meanwhile, D.C. raised Mýa (“It’s All About Me”), crafted the poetic rapper Wale—who fused hip-hop with go-go in “Pretty Girls”—and shaped the timeless, socially conscious voice of Marvin Gaye. From “Let’s Get It On” to “Mercy Mercy Me,” Marvin’s music continues to provide the soundtrack to both our joy and our justice.
And speaking of go-go, no celebration of D.C. music is complete without it. Born in the capital and championed by Chuck Brown, go-go remains a cultural anchor.
We also celebrate Sisqó, the dynamic frontman of the platinum-selling group Dru Hill, whose roots run deep in Baltimore—aka “Charm City.” Known for his explosive stage presence and unforgettable voice, Sisqó helped launch Baltimore’s R&B (rhythm and blues) scene onto the global stage in the late 1990s and early 2000s.
Then there’s Maysa, the internationally acclaimed jazz and soul singer who continues to represent Baltimore on the world stage. A Morgan State University graduate and former member of Stevie Wonder’s Wonderlove, Maysa rose to fame with the British acid jazz band Incognito and has since built a powerful solo career. Her sound—smooth, rich and deeply soulful—embodies the spirit of the city she still calls home.
Of course, music is nothing without the spaces that nurture it. Baltimore’s iconic Sphinx Club, founded in 1946 by Charles Tilghman, was one of the nation’s first Black-owned private nightclubs. Known for its elegance and exclusivity, it became a haven for Black entertainers, entrepreneurs and dignitaries.
And for me, it’s personal.
My late father, James “Biddy” Wood, was not only a journalist and promoter but also a board member and vital force behind the Sphinx Club’s success. He brought artists like Billy Eckstine and Gloria Lynne to the stage and used his platform—as a club owner, editor and community advocate—to elevate Black entertainment in this city. And though she wasn’t a Baltimore native, my stepmother, the beloved singer Damita Jo, made this city her home for the last 30 years of her life.
Today, the torch burns bright. Gabby Samone, a 22-year-old Baltimore powerhouse, wowed “American Idol” judges this year with vocals that channeled Whitney Houston. She’s walking a path paved by Lady Day, Ethel, Maysa, Sisqó—and every choir director who ever said, “Sing that again, baby.”
And let’s not forget the gospel. D.C.’s Richard Smallwood gave the world “Total Praise,” and Baltimore’s Stars of Faith toured with Mahalia Jackson and lit up Broadway in “Black Nativity.” Choirs like the Howard Gospel Choir, the world-renowned Morgan State University Choir and contemporary trailblazers like Anthony Brown and Group TherAPy and Maurette Brown Clark continue to uplift us with sacred sound and joy-filled praise.
Of course, these are just a few of the many artists who have shaped—and continue to shape—our region’s rich musical tapestry. From gospel to jazz to hip-hop, the Baltimore-Washington corridor is alive with talent, passion and soul.
Black Music Month is more than a commemoration—it’s a celebration of how we move, praise, protest and persevere. From Billie to Gabby, Chick to Chuck, Duke to Dru Hill, the Sphinx Club to Sunday morning choirs, our region has always had range, rhythm and revelation.
As CEO and publisher of this historic and forward-moving Black-owned media company, I offer my deepest thanks to the AFRO’s incredible editorial, advertising, digital and content design teams for bringing this special Black Music Month edition to life.
And while I don’t sing or play like any of the artists mentioned here, I have an undying and passionate love for good music—and I can hum with the best of them.
Because we don’t just make music—we make memories. And they come with a beat.
The opinions expressed in this commentary are those of the writer and not necessarily those of the AFRO.