Sam’s Message: From Chains to Change

In 1959, singer and songwriter Sam Cooke had a chance encounter with a group of Black prisoners working on a highway during one of his tours. Moved by their plight, Cooke felt a deep sympathy for them and, reportedly, gave them cartons of cigarettes. That moment left a lasting impression on him and would go on to inspire his powerful anthem, “Chain Gang,” which was released on RCA Victor on July 26, 1960.

Sam Cooke’s “Chain Gang.” Illustration by J.D. Humphreys


• COOKE HIGHLIGHTS THE PRISON-INDUSTRIAL COMPLEX •

To promote the single, Cooke teamed up with his producers, Hugo & Luigi, donning prisoner uniforms for a striking publicity photo. The September 26, 1960, issue of Music Vendor ran a playful caption: “THE LINEUP:—RCA Victor’s Hugo & Luigi and songstar Sam Cooke admit to being guilty of getting together to produce a record titled Chain Gang, currently topping Music Vendor charts.” The single went on to become Cooke's second-biggest hit and marked his first major triumph for RCA Victor, soaring to number two on both the Billboard Hot 100 and R&B charts.

LISTEN TO “CHAIN GANG” BY SAM COOKE

The release of “Chain Gang” brought the grim realities of the prison-industrial complex into the mainstream consciousness of white America. However, the song was interpreted vastly differently by Black and white audiences, and its impact would resonate for generations. For many white listeners, the song was little more than a catchy tune, complete with rhythmic grunts that softened the harshness of the criminal justice system. In contrast, Black audiences recognized the deeper, more painful truth behind the lyrics.

By 1960, the incarceration rate for white men was 262 per 10,000, while Black men faced a staggering rate of 1,313 per 10,000, making them five times more likely to be imprisoned, according to the Pew Research Center.

The history of chain gangs traces back to the post-Civil War South, where they were used to replace the labor force of formerly enslaved people and reinvigorate the economy. The 13th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution abolished slavery, but with a key exception: “except as punishment for crime.” This loophole fueled the mass incarceration of Black men for minor offenses, many of whom were then leased out to private companies, forced to endure brutal and dangerous working conditions. For some, these conditions were arguably worse than the horrors of slavery itself.

Illustration by J.D. Humphreys

On a sultry January night in 1963, Sam Cooke took the stage at the Harlem Square Club in Miami, a vibrant hub in Overton, the heart of the city's Black community. The air buzzed with anticipation as Cooke, joined by some of his most devoted fans from his gospel days, prepared to deliver a performance for the ages. This wasn’t the polished, crooning pop idol fans heard on the radio; this was raw, unfiltered soul—a sound forged in the church and lit ablaze by the energy of the crowd—his crowd.

As Cooke launched into his set, hits like “Chain Gang” became electric moments, connecting him to the audience in a way that felt almost sacred. RCA Victor had planned this opportunity to be a live album One Night Stand, capturing the essence of his performance that night. But when the recordings came back, they weren’t what the label had envisioned. The grit, the sweat, the uninhibited passion—it was all too real, too raw. Fearing it might tarnish Cooke’s carefully crafted pop image, the label shelved the recordings.

For over two decades, that night remained a secret, hidden away in the vaults. It wasn’t until 1985 that the album Live at the Harlem Square Club, 1963 finally surfaced, revealing a side of Cooke the world had been denied—a man at the peak of his soul-stirring powers, unrestrained and utterly alive.

LISTEN TO “CHAIN GANG” PERFORMED LIVE BY SAM COOKE AT THE HARLEM SQUARE CLUB

Cooke was not the only musician who recognized chain gangs for what they truly were—modern-day slavery. Nina Simone followed with "Work Song" on her 1961 Forbidden Fruit album. Written by Oscar Brown Jr. and Nat Adderley, the song tells the story of a man who robs a grocery store out of hunger and poverty, only to be sentenced by the judge to five years on the chain gang, breaking rocks. The song appeared on albums by Simone through to her 1967 High Priestess of Soul album. Simone also performed it on the Merv Griffin Show in 1966, taking the message to an even broader mainstream audience. "Work Song" stands out in Simone’s catalog as one of her first songs, though often overlooked, that boldly addressed racial inequality through a specific social issue.

LISTEN TO “WORK SONG” BY NINA SIMONE

Nina Simone. Illustration by J.D. Humphreys

As the Civil Rights Movement gained momentum, chain gang labor began to fade. However, some states, like North Carolina, continued the practice into the seventies, and certain jurisdictions even reintroduced chain gangs in the nineties. While the physical presence of chain gangs diminished, the incarceration of Black individuals soared, becoming a deeply rooted social issue in America that remains without a viable solution.


• “A CHANGE IS GONNA COME” •

In the 1960s, opponents of civil rights reinforced long-standing, bigoted arguments, claiming that granting Black people more rights would "mongrelize" society and destroy the well-being of America through their supposed violent nature. In response, civil rights activists worked to transform the fear of arrest and imprisonment into a badge of honor. Imprisonment became a powerful tool for highlighting the injustices of Jim Crow and exposing racism to the broader American public.

Non-violent sit-ins at segregated counters gained popularity among Black youth, who knew they would likely face violent attacks by white racists before being arrested. They sacrificed their safety in exchange for media attention. As Americans watched the news footage unfold on their television screens, they witnessed firsthand the brutal injustices and violent nature of white America. 

Sam Cooke. Illustration by J.D. Humphreys

During his 1963 tour, Sam Cooke found himself deep in conversation with sit-in demonstrators in Durham, North Carolina. That afternoon, as he returned to his tour bus, inspiration struck, and he wrote what would become his iconic anthem, "A Change Is Gonna Come." Known for his smooth image and uplifting love songs, Cooke had long held back from addressing the rampant discrimination and racism in America, fearing it might alienate his large white fan base and jeopardize his crossover success. But in this moment, something shifted within him.

"A Change Is Gonna Come" emerged from a deeply personal and profoundly societal pain. That year, Cooke faced the devastating loss of his 18-month-old son and endured the sting of racism firsthand when he and his band were arrested for disturbing the peace after protesting their denial of a room at a Holiday Inn in Shreveport, Louisiana. These heart-wrenching moments subtly echo in the song's hauntingly poignant final verse.

“[It is] medicine for the soul… it was as if Dr. King was speaking to me.”

- Rosa Parks on “A Change Is Gonna Come” in 1968

The song has often been hailed as a musical counterpart to Martin Luther King Jr.’s iconic “I Have a Dream” speech, echoing the same themes of struggle and yearning for a better future. Years later, when Rosa Parks received the devastating news of Dr. King’s assassination in 1968, she found solace in Sam Cooke’s “A Change Is Gonna Come.” Calling it “medicine for the soul,” Parks described the song as deeply personal, saying, “It was as if Dr. King was speaking to me.”

LISTEN TO “A CHANGE IS GONNA COME” BY SAM COOKE

Released in 1964, “A Change Is Gonna Come” came just eleven days after Cooke's tragic death. He was shot by the manager of a South Central LA motel following an altercation with a prostitute. After a brief 15-minute inquiry, the coroner’s jury ruled Cooke's death a justifiable homicide. At just 33 years old, the world lost one of its most influential voices—just as his music began to echo the powerful calls for social change.

With Cooke’s death and Ray Charles’ incarceration and recovery, the end of 1964 created a vacuum of soul male talent. This great talent, no more or on hold, presented an opportunity for artists like Wilson Pickett and Otis Redding to take the helm. Within a few weeks into 1965, it was certain that the vacuum would be quickly filled with chart toppers like James Brown with “Papa’s Got a Brand New Bag” and “I Got You (I Feel Good).”

LISTEN TO “PAPA’S GOT A BRAND NEW BAG” BY JAMES BROWN

Brown had already gained the reputation as “the hardest working man in show business” with three hundred plus shows a year, several performances on a given night and knew what audiences wanted were shows, not acts. The audience for Brown was also changing as more whites were attending his performances, even in the South.

British music newspaper, Record Mirror, estimated that in 1964 in a 30-day period, he wore more than 120 shirts, performed over 4,800 minutes on stage, and performed more than 960 songs. As his appearances increased, Brown also adapted his travel methods and acquired a $714,00 Learjet to carry his personal manager, road managers, valet; a large bus and trailer carried the rest of the show.

“I have so much to do for the shows; business writing, clothes, arrangements, routines, it’s just great to be spared some of those long, tiring hours of travel,” Brown said. “The rest of the show goes on ahead, from one town to the next, but I can stay in town and then hop on the plane an hour or so before a show. It’s really great!”  

Redding would make 1965 a hallmark year with “I’ve Been Loving You Too Long,” and Pickett with “In the Midnight Hour.” While these songs catapulted their careers into crossover fame, they were not comparable to Cooke’s perspective on the social climate. Other artists and groups, who did not chart as high or at all, took inspiration from where the Movement was going and the heartache endured along the way.

Wilson Pickett. Illustration by J.D. Humphreys

Previous
Previous

When Soul Music Marched with Selma

Next
Next

The Rhythm of the Movement: Soul Music and the March on Washington