Nina Simone was a woman who had every right to be outraged, and so she was. Born and raised in the Jim-Crow South, Simone experienced the cruelty of a nation which was built upon the dehumanization and enslaved labor of Black people and which refused to value the lives of Black people. One of the only ways Simone knew how to confront this reality was to channel her rage, depression, and horror into her music, which resulted in a legendary run of protest songs. During the 1960s, Simone’s output included the timeless protest songs “Mississippi Goddam”, “Backlash Blues” (which she co-wrote with Langston Hughes), and “Four Women,” while also including chilling covers of “Strange Fruit”, “I Wanna Know What It’s Like to Be Free”, and “Revolution.” Aside from their highly politically relevant and highly charged lyrics, Simone, being a virtuosic piano player and singer and also a famously passionate and animated live performer, brought out every bit of emotion that these songs held and made everything she felt inside resonate so deeply in the hearts of so many. These songs offered no consolation or false hope for a nation that did not deserve to forget what it had done to Black people for hundreds of years and for what it was continuing to do to Black people. 

Simone’s take on John Lennon and the Beatles’ “Revolution”, which she co-wrote with Weldon Irvine, is less a cover than it is an answer song, and a harsh rebuke, of the Beatles’ original. Simone, like many other progressive thinkers, was displeased with Lennon’s rejection of the revolutionary ideology and tactics of the new left in favor of the moderate liberal line of pacifism and non-violence. Lennon starts his “Revolution” with the lines, “You say you want a revolution // well we all want to change the world.” Lennon, while the West is waging an imperial war in Vietnam and while there are still ongoing fights to solidify the status of Black people as legal equals in the United States, chooses to open his song with a critique not of racism, imperialism, warmongering, or any other critical issue currently at hand, but, rather, of people who are further to the left of him and whose methods he disapproves of. 

Historically and broadly speaking, criticizing those who go against the status quo, while not offering your own alternative plan to push back against the status quo, serves to uphold the status quo. The tone of the punchline, “well we all want to change the world,” also makes it clear that Lennon does not take the new left seriously. He refuses to grant any sort of credence or legitimacy to the new left and instead shrugs it off as a movement that has benevolent aims, but which will not be able to achieve them because it cannot or will not achieve what it wants under its current political framework for reasons he implies, via his subtly sarcastic tone, to be obvious.

Later in the song, Lennon writes, “You say you'll change the constitution // Well, you know // We'd all love to change your head (ah, shoo-be-do-wop).” He is, once again, not only disagreeing with those further to the left of him, but essentially writing them off and refusing to engage with their political beliefs. Lennon’s refusal to engage with the new left is even more apparent here due to the vagueness with which he portrays the new left’s demands. It is unclear which specific tactic or belief of the New Left Lennon is pushing back against when he admonishes their desire to “change the constitution.” Lennon, being a liberal and a person who seems to genuinely care about making the world a better place, could not have possibly been opposed to all constitutional amendments and changes. 

I find it impossible to believe that Lennon would have opposed, for example, the 13th Amendment of the American Constitution, but it then becomes unclear what Lennon is actually referring to or specifically arguing for when he proclaims his umbrella opposition to constitutional change. It can be read as a metonym for his opposition to radical, fundamental changes in governing policy in general, but if this is the case, his argument does not seem strong enough or specific enough to do anything more than to further, though probably redundantly at this point, establish his general distaste for the strategies and beliefs of the new left. 

Simone pushes back with “Yeah, your Constitution // Well, my friend, it's gonna have to bend.” Simone, beyond simply rejecting Lennon’s vague rejection of constitutional change, attributes possession of the constitution to Lennon; or, more accurately, she attributes possession of the constitution to those who are in a position to benefit from its current state. The constitutions of both the United States and England were written by wealthy white men who owned land. It was designed for their benefit without sincere regard for the needs of anyone who did not embody these categories. Lennon, of course, was white, wealthy, and privileged. Simone’s response not only rejects the premise of Lennon’s original point, but also posits the idea that his insistence on quelling drastic changes to governing policy was born out of a desire to protect the privilege and comfort he exists in while under a government that was made to benefit him and other wealthy white men. 

With the question of privilege and existing societal structures in mind, Simone’s rebuke of Lennon’s rejection of destructive methods comes off as more poignant and more charged. In response to Lennon’s critique of the new left’s apparent insistence on needless destruction (“When you talk about destruction // Don't you know that you can count me out, in?”), Simone challenges, “I'm here to tell you // about destruction // Of all the evil that will have to end.” It is at this point that the latent social dynamics of “Revolution” are laid bare. For Lennon, a wealthy white man, destruction of the current social order under a revolution would spell out the loss of his wealth, social status, and privilege. For Simone, a Black woman who was never particularly wealthy, the destruction of the current social order under a revolution would spell out freedom and the vanquishment of forces that have held her and other disenfranchised groups down for centuries; or, at the very least, a revolution would represent a sizable and tangible step towards freedom and genuine equality.

There is also something deeply unsavory about the chorus of John Lennon’s “Revolution.” The chorus consists of Lennon repeating, “Don't you know it's gonna be alright?” three times. Once again, Lennon is failing to seriously engage with the arguments of the new left, instead asking a snarky rhetorical question that presupposes the unviability of the new left’s revolutionary methods. Insisting that things will just “be alright” and fall into place without considerable work being done also further speaks to Lennon’s privilege. Things will certainly be alright for people like John Lennon but this maxim hardly applies to Black people, poor people, and people whose brothers, sons, fathers, friends, and relatives were sent to senselessly die in Vietnam and who, in 1968, were being forced to fight tooth and nail for a fraction of the privilege, comfort, and freedom Lennon seems to take for granted. 

It is worth noting that just two years after he wrote and released “Revolution” and one year after Simone covered it, John Lennon embraced the methods and thought of the radical left. He donated $75,000 to the Black Panther Party in 1970, did interviews with Black Panther co-founder Bobby Seale, and was involved with the White Panther Party in Michigan, an offshoot of the Black Panther Party. For his trouble, Lennon was surveilled by the FBI for the rest of his life and boasted a 300-page FBI file. Even so, it is worth critiquing “Revolution.” The song itself, and especially the response it garnered from Nina Simone, are very helpful and insightful case studies for understanding 60s political conflicts through cultural artifacts, such as, in this case, protest music. 

Also, possibly more importantly, Simone’s point about privilege and vested interest clouding political imagination seems constantly relevant. As Simone rightly points out, those who benefit more than they are harmed by a political system will be inclined to uphold said political system, even if the political system causes undue harm to others. This harm is not nullified by proclaiming, as Lennon does, a desire for equality and positive change. Actual change requires hard work, challenging one’s own beliefs, and thinking about whom your actions benefit. Music has immense power and influence; so it is crucial for musicians to be responsible with their platform in order to make the change that their art induces a positive one.