Philly: Black rock capital of the world?

African American musicians helped create the music genre eventually called rock. Ike Turner, Wild Bill Moore, and a host of others helped usher in a kind of energized amalgam of rhythm and blues and boogie later adopted by musicians of all colors. But 60 years later, black musicians are not easily associated with whatever passes for rock today.

In August, the 10th annual Afropunk Festival - a celebration of what organizers call "open-minded, nonconforming, and unconventional urban cultural acts inspired by alternative music" - was held throughout New York City, with black rockers Gary Clark Jr., Lenny Kravitz, Death Grips, Lion Babe, and Vintage Trouble making merry. The word Afropunk, used to denote the participation of black people in the punk-rock scene, was coined in the 2003 documentary Afro-Punk.

But black rock in Philly goes back much farther. Pure Hell - arguably punk's first all-black band - was formed in this city in 1974. They released a 1978 single of "These Boots are Made for Walking" but didn't manage to release actual albums, with one album waiting almost 30 years to be released. In the interim, several rock acts of color have arisen, including the Los Angeles band Fishbone in 1979 and New York's Living Colour in 1984. Pure Hell reformed in 2012 and has appeared occasionally around town, including a gig this summer at Boot & Saddle. We might add that the Roots, who can play just about anything, enjoy a walk on the rock side now and then.

If Philadelphia is one of the birthplaces, if not the birthplace, of black rock, what of today's black musicians who want to rock against type?

"I was always looking for the right cats to rock with," says Camden-born Lamont Caldwell, who was all about hip-hop when he played sax on albums by Bilal and toured with Jay Z. But as front man for MACH22, a hard, Led-Zeppelin-meets-Kravitz act, the powerful baritone vocalist lets loose and gets raw.

Why did he choose rock over soul? "I didn't think I had the voice for R&B, especially with artists like Bilal, who do justice to that style of music," he says. "Besides, rock's energy has been with me since childhood, starting with Kiss." (Said with a laugh.) Caldwell pitched original songs to Kravitz before hooking up with MACH 22, with whom he rocked out on the album Like My Chances.

How do people react to a black man doing rock? "It can be a gamble going against the grain," says Caldwell. "You're either admired or hated. Luckily, though, I've been embraced. So many people have said to me, 'Dude, I hope this isn't wrong to say, but I've never heard a black dude sing like that. You rock!' Kind of gives me hope for humanity."

Naeemah Maddox started life in North Philly's Logan neighborhood as an "11-year-old rapper, drawing from MC Lyte" until she discovered Radiohead, Soundgarden, and Jeff Buckley. "I gravitated toward that because it gave me the most variety as a listener and composer," says Maddox, whose second album, Vile Tyrant and the Middlemen, will be released in January. Maddox doesn't get wrapped up in who is playing the music or what their race may be. She focuses on what they are playing. As for those who do care about those other things, she attributes such obsessions to "conditioning and a lack of music history knowledge.

"Sure, I get questions like, 'How does it feel to be a black female guitarist?' " Maddox says. "My response is, 'I'm only born into this shell, so how would I know?' "

Son Little is the name adopted by Philly-born musician Aaron Livingston. He's known for his solo work and for sitting in with the Roots and the RJD2 duo Icebird. With his spacey blues touched by hip-hop and dub, Little says he doesn't identify strongly with any musical form - "I changed my name as I wanted no rules," he says. And he laughs when the idea of building a scene around his brand of black rock comes up: "I don't want people knocking at my door, but that would be nice." He released an album with his name on it for the Anti- label in late October.

"Coltrane, Gamble and Huff," Little says when asked to name Philly's musical legacy names. "It's funny, though, I never really processed a Philly black-rock presence." But then he remembers Chuck Treece, "a local institution, a one-man black-rock-and-skateboard scene."

Philly-born Treece, 51, is a bassist, drummer, and award-winning professional skateboarder (he still hits the concrete at FDR Park). He founded the speed-punk skater band McRad in 1982 (one of their albums is named FDR). He sat in for a minute with the New York punk outfit Underdogs, and also with Philly's first real, live rap group, the Goats.

His pop-and-rock foundation was fixed when he lived in Newark, Del., with a dad who played tenor sax in a Top 40 band. "I didn't have a chance to consider whether music was mainstream or subcultural, black or white," Treece says. "When I got to skateboarding and punk, there weren't many black people in either scene."

He says Philly's early punks were color-blind. Early 1980s punkers the Stick Men and Bunnydrums "never said 'black rock' or 'white rock' - they just said, 'Play.' " When he did hip-hop sessions with the Goats and other bands, he often channeled early influences, like the Washington punkers Bad Brains: "If a hip-hop group wanted to be louder, they had to embrace louder music, pump up the guitars."

Currently recording with local Jackass Bam Margera, Treece says he feels just as he did when he returned to Philly. "Nothing against Afropunk and the Black Rock Coalition, but creativity has no color. When I got to Philly, I looked up at City Hall, and said that I would one day be known for my art, not as a black guy, but as a musician."

For his part, Son Little says he's willing to be the face of black-rock Philly if called upon: "I would be proud; this city is our history."