Tank and the Bangas: Theopoetic Notes

Tank and the Bangas

Theopoetic Notes

Theopoetics is the activity of creating things (music, for example) and reflecting on things in ways that encourage a sense of the sacredness of everyday life in its fragility, pain, mystery, and beauty.

Theopoetics is often communal and can be done in a live setting: a restaurant, bar, living room,street corner, bowling alley, library, church, synagogue, mosque, sangha, or Youtube Video.

It can also be done alone, making little notes, journaling, writing a poem after listening to music, or watching Youtube Videos or movie trailers. The notes are music, too.

This page is a potpourri of videos from Tank and the Bangas along with short notes on the "spiritual themes" they inspire. It is an invitatation to theopoeticize in your way, as you listen to their songs and watch their videos. We call it "process" theology.

God Push Your People (Push Me) High

lyrics to Interlude (God Push Me)
by Tank and the Banga's Think Tank

I once heard a story
'Bout God pushing people
Pushing people off mountaintops

Buildings and Eiffels
Skyscrapers high
Pushing people so they can fly

Oh push me, God (push me, push me)
Pushing people high
Let them know they're not afraid of heights

Oh God, push your people (push me)
Pushing people high
Let them know they're not afraid to fly

Tank and the Bangas - Ants

Tank and the Bangas - NPR Concert

Lyrics to Ants

Double dutchin', free lunch
Me hosin' sweet ones
n*ggas that like me
Dudes that dodge me
Girls wanna fight me
'Cause like Kimmy
I'm talkin' pretty
Confident as a D like Willie
Yeah down to Earth like Freddy
Down to ride, no Billy
At home it was Kool Aid packs and Disney
Lizzie McGuire and One Saturday Morning on the weekends
Never had a pair of Jordans, don't want none
My jump shot don't need sneakers
More costly than I can afford them
Rice Krispies Treats and noodles
Home Alone Macaulay Culkin
'Cause sometimes, 'cause sometimes

I need more space than thoughts can give me
More sky than God provides me
And TV so I won't get lonely (Lonely)

Where do the ants go?
Why do they run away?
Leave me alone now
Why can't I make you stay?

I got a JanSport book sack
A girl that be talkin' 'bout me in third period
Oh well (Oh well)
The beat was still made for me
Re-runs of Martin waitin' on me
More cake for me, cake for me
Amy scare me, Ashley make me jealous
And Cheryl Lynn my best friend
Brian my boyfriend, Kay is his father
But his love letters be sweeter than sno-balls in the east
And Freezy Street all wrapped in one love letter
And a warm sweater in December
I'm better, I'm better
I became whatever

Where do the ants go?
Why do they run away? (Run away now)
Leave me alone now
Why can't I make you stay?

I'm prettier than a Sunday
On Mondays I be trippin'
My momma want me to wash the dishes
While she make my brother lazy and distant
f*ck it, I'm movin' when I'm eighteen
Fast forward ten years later
It's the same routine
And I'm complaining
Catching bucks, mood change
Like it's a new thing
I want everything on anything
Put clothes in the basket
Or a Hummer truck
Man, my life funny as f*ck
Like Bruce with a cut
Just my luck, I'd end up
Famous and blunt
Rollin' a blunt, turned down
While everybody is busy turnin' up

Can you turn my music up?
Hey turn my music up

Where do the ants go?
Why do they run away?
Leave me alone now
Why can't I make you stay?

Where do the ants go?
Why do they run away?
Leave me alone now
Why can't I make you stay?

I saw you throw a universe once
That wasn't the type of sh*t you see everyday

Becoming a Better Whatever:
A Theopoetic Note on Ants

Process philosophers and theologians tell us we are not one thing rather many things, always being gathered into the unity of the moment, which itself becomes a past event. Day by day, moment by moment, our very souls are events in which "the many become one and are increased by one." The many are, as it were, the "ants" within us. Sometimes we wonder "where do they go?" They become part of our personal unconscious and then surface, among other places in the memories of our lives. We can't make them stay, and sometimes we are glad about that. But always we recall these memories in light of aims we have to become whole, to become fully ourselves, to become a "whatever" that it better than it was. God is in this possibility of better whatever.

Instructions on Being
A Poem by Tarriana 'Tank' Ball

"Things I Think about in the Shower"
A Theopetic note on Instructions on Being

It is interesting to think about the Shower as a kind of church or monastery: a greenhouse for the spirit. The God of Love can meet anyone anywhere, and she doesn't need to be known or named to be present. She is present as the indwelling lure to think about your life, your gifts, your shortcomings, your insecuruties, your failings, your hopes to become a better self The mirror can help. It's like a stained glass window with your own finite self and body as its holy icon.

You So Dumb

"You so dumb, you so silly girl."
A Theopetic note on You so Dumb

A whole lot of popular music is about the quest for connection and intmacy: connection with another person, connection with yourself. "Quest" and "Connection" are two letters in the spiritual alphabet (see below). In our quest for connection with ourselves, we may often need to say "yes"" to who we are or who we want to become. But sometimes we need to say "no" to a self we have become: a self that accepts abuse from others or that loses its own heart in allowing itself to be defined by another. The lure of God within us is a calling to say "no." It is a calling to say "You so Dumb."

Boxes and Squares

Walmart

NPR Appreciation

"Bob Boilen | March 10, 2017 — Out of over 6,000 entries — more submissions than we've ever received — Tank And The Bangas won, unanimously, this year's Tiny Desk Contest. I fully expected their victory performance here at NPR headquarters in D.C. to be celebratory. I didn't know we'd all end up in tears. This band combines R&B with hip-hop's poetry and rollercoaster storytelling, with a flair and alchemy that could only come from New Orleans.

Their winning song, "Quick," mixes liquor and revenge — a sort of modern day take on a great folk tale, but peppered with their own idiosyncratic flair and humor. What I couldn't see, until they took over my desk, was the depth of their lyricism and the versatility of their players. At one moment fun-filled funk, the next laid-back jazz, rhythm-driven blues — and it all flows seamlessly. And it's fun to watch: There's a magic kinship between Tarriona "Tank" Ball and Anjelika "Jelly" Joseph as they share singing roles, like two best friends finishing one another's sentences."

-- Bob Boilen

Quick (The Tiny Desk Concert)

Quick (the Official Video)

Lyrics to Quick

Down by the river, where the green grass grow
And the sun be burning (hot)
Take your pantyhose, don't nobody know where you go
Just know the block just got hot
When you see a drink, gotta be sweet
Gotta be quick, gotta get get 'fore you get got
And ain't no tellin' what I'm goin' do tonight
I strolled up in a room full of (liquor and colors)
I met somebody's groom that was (????)
I took him by the hand, I slipped a (mickey in his vodka)
Next thing that I know, he was reaching for his wallet
Drivin' real fast
Tank full o' gas, Cash (on the radiooo)
Goin' so fast, take it slow
Sippin' on that sizzurp I was
sirens, 'cause
I see him lookin', around my way
He like my body, don't see my face
And with them girls, gonna pay to play
(My back is achin', my bra too tight
My booty shakin', from left to right)
Next thing that I know, the car starts to slow
Gas in runnin' out, police is close out
Should I get out? (Girl, no!)
I gotta make a quick decision
So my hand moves to that do'
But I get a flashback, of a weekend
Of the night before
(Hi, don't you wanna ride?
Don't you wanna fly?
This is just like last week when I)
I strolled up in a room full of (liquor and colors)
I was stumblin' from my car, he must've (noticed I was plastered)
He followed me right in, he slipped a (mickey in my vodka)
Next thing that I know, I was leanin', he was____
So I (gotta make a quick decision)
Gotta get, get out my pill and see that (money on the floor)
Never wanna go to____
but I don't wanna go to prison
Now, I'm hittin' sixty on the
I see him looking, around my way
He like my body, he don't see my face
And with them girls, gonna pay to play
(My back is achin', my bra too tight
My booty shakin', from left to right)
I see him looking, around the way
He tryin' to get me, don't plan to stay
And with them girls, away
(My back is achin', my bra too tight
My booty shakin', from left to right)

Don't You Want to Fly?
A Theopoetic Note on Quick

Some people might think that human beings are robots, propelled primarily by their environments or their past decisions. But process philosophers and theologians believe that there is more to us than this. Always we are inwardly inspired and sometimes obsessed by subjective aims. Subjective aims are the desires for satisfaction, for momentary wholeness, that permeate our lives, moment by moment. Some come from God, some from the ego, some from the devil: that is, the enemy of our better selves. Often they are mixed together, so it's almost impossible to distinguish them. They are desires to fly. The wisdom of music and art is that it presents to us the subjective aims that can, and do, shape our lives, often so mixed. Quick is an invitation to honesty, to complexity, to ambiguity, to self-understanding, from which, if we listen closely, we find instructions on being.

Instructions on Being

Don't ask me about God.
Don't ask me when am I graduating.
To repeat what I said when I'm singing.
Don't ask me about my religion,
or why I don't faithfully go to church anymore.
I don't like questions with answers that make me feel stupid.

These are the things I think about in the shower,
when my empathy is running a race with the water.
I think about things like, I need to exercise more. Is my hair growing? Is my ability showing, is God a man or a woman?
I don't look at myself too long.
I'm afraid that I won't like how
honesty and accountability look up too close.

I tend to shove things in the biggest of closets,
and pretend that I bought a home without any doors.
I'm not the easiest person to walk through.
I'm selfish.
But I'm honest with myself, when I feel like hearing
what truth sounds like with a jammer and a hammer and a jigsaw, truth.

I am just as insecure as I am confident.
I barely believe in my own brilliance or my beauty.
I need current confirmation in my friends,
and I look for it in their faces.
Are you pretty today? My god, are you lovely.
I'm a star who doesn't pay her light bill.
I wish that my mother told me that I was incredible at 10,
maybe I would believe it at 23.

I convince myself every day, every day
that I'm right where I'm supposed to be.
No matter how many credits short I am of graduating.
Do not stare at certain parts of my face.
I'm not sure how comfortable I am with such open flaws.
I've become pretty good
at covering up what isn't beautiful about myself.
Excuse my sarcasm, it's the ugly trying to come out in me,
ignore her, ignore her please.
I'm trying to figure out how to apologize to the person I am,
to forgive the mistakes that I've made, on replay.
Forgive yourself before you ever look for an apology.
I want to write everything that you're afraid to hear,
everything that you keep in that closet in your back.
I wanna break my pride's ankle with a sledge hammer,
anytime she gets too tall.
I wanna do open heart surgery on the boy who couldn't tell you,
I love you, Tank.
This is your reminder list.

One, fuck him, I love you.
Two, you are everything your mama forgot to tell you.
Three, forgive your dad, he has Alzheimer's.
Four, shut up, your little brother looks up to you.
Five, you should try fingerpainting somtime.
Six, stop looking for your reflection to wave back at you.
You are the same person.
Seven, stop looking for the congratulations in your mom's eyes.
She is proud of you.
Eight, record your heartbeat, and play it in reverse.
It sounds the same. You are still here.
Nine, your niece is holding fire for you in her hand,
just for your attention, she will burn herself with everything that you forgot to saturate with love. Call your sister.
Shut up. Admit to your friends why you are always crying.

" Your sister washed your laundry."

A Theopetic note on Boxes and Walmart

The spirituality of yearning, of seeking intimacy with another person of even with yourself, can benefit from a place where the yearning can unfold: a place like Walmart, maybe the grocery section: Would have been fish/Would have been meat
Would have been eggs/ Would have been greens/ I would have been good for you.." But sometimes you have to leave without having purchased anything, because all the boxes are empty. LIfe in the spirit includes recognizing that some people cannot give back; their hearts may be full, but for you they are empty boxes.

Listening for the Spiritual Alphabet

You get a sense of Tarriona "Tank" Ball's theology in Interlude (God Push Me) on her album Think Tank. It's only one minute and forty four seconds long. The fact that it's followed on the album by human makes sense, too.

She thinks of God as one who calls, one who pushes, people to take risks, to fly high, to let go and live, all the while loving themselves even if they feel unloved by others, claiming their own human beauty, including the beauty of their own bodies, however conformal or not they are to conventional (commercially induced) norms. God is one who calls us to be ourselves, to be human, with roots and wings.

God God call us to enjoyment? To the reception of "nice things"? Yes.

*

Sometimes music writers, wise as they are, miss the God part. Bob Boilen of NPR tells us that Tank and the Bangas combine “R&B with hip-hop's poetry and rollercoaster storytelling, with a flair and alchemy that could only come from New Orleans.” He adds: “At one moment fun-filled funk, the next laid-back jazz, rhythm-driven blues — and it all flows seamlessly. And it’s fun to watch.” All of this is true.

But if you have theopoetic eyes you can’t help but feel something deep within the fun-filled funk, something spiritual within the rollercoaster storytelling, that also deserves appreciation…before or during or after the listening and the watching. Tank is a preacher.

I’m talking about qualities of heart and mind, about forms of relatedness. Is it zest for life? Is it enthusiasm? Is it a sense of connection? Is it imagination and play? Is it owning the shadow side of life? Is it self-affirmation? Is it attention to the specifiities of life? These are among the thirty-seven spiritual modes articulated by Frederic and Mary Ann Brussat. In one or another of Tank and the Banga’s music, you’ll find combinations of these.

Attention -- Beauty -- Being Present -- Compassion -- Connections -- Devotion -- Enthusiasm -- Faith -- Forgiveness -- Grace -- Gratitude -- Hope -- Hospitality -- Imagination -- Joy -- Justice -- Kindness -- Listening -- Love -- Meaning -- Nurturing -- Openness -- Peace -- Play -- Questing -- Reverence -- Shadow -- Silence -- Teachers -- Transformation -- Unity -- Vision -- Wonder -- X (the Mystery) -- Yearning -- You -- Zeal

As you listen to song by Tanks and the Bangas, you can listen for all of these. Know, though, that they will not be located in the lyrics to the songs themselves, but just as importantly in the rhythms and melodies, the laughter and the moans. The nice things.