Cold Fact, an album released in 1970 by an up-and-coming artist by the name of Rodríguez, doesn’t just have banging music — it incited a revolution.
The album, predicted to be a wild success, absolutely flopped after its release in the U.S. But, after records were smuggled into South Africa, it blew up to be a sensation that encouraged citizens to question apartheid, the racial segregation that was instated by the all-white government in 1948. The ’70s were particularly heavy with protests and rebellions against laws that controlled where black Africans could go, what they could do, and who they could be.
Rodríguez became a household name in South African but was also completely unaware his music was being celebrated until dedicated fans tracked him down. His entire mind-boggling story was made into a documentary titled Searching for Sugar Man (free to watch on Kanopy for any UFV students interested).
The tracks on Cold Fact focus on issues that plagued inner-city Detroit, but truly they’re universal. “This Is Not a Song, It’s an Outburst: Or, the Establishment Blues,” although having a long-winded title, is a short and sweet song that reads like poetry set to some laid-back but funky guitar. Rodríguez didn’t have much to his name when he wrote the album; he had nothing to lose and chose to lay out his thoughts uncensored and bare.
The song laments: “The mayor hides the crime rate / Council woman hesitates / Public gets irate / But forget the vote date … Garbage ain’t collected, women ain’t protected / Politicians using, people they’re abusing / The mafia’s getting bigger, like pollution in the river.” It was written 50 years ago, yet every single concern addressed still rings true today. The instrumentals used in this track, and the album in general, are minimal, focusing on lilting guitar notes and the occasional percussion or horn. He doesn’t need much other than his voice to get his message across, and his lyricism is reminiscent of Leonard Cohen.
Not every song is purely political, however. Other than gripes about the “Rich Folks Hoax” or “Inner City Blues,” Rodríguez dabbles in themes of addiction, introspection, and romance.
“Soon you know I’ll leave you / And I’ll never look behind / ‘Cos I was born for the purpose / That crucifies your mind” is a chilling line from “Crucify Your Mind” that counteracts the yearning and lovelorn chorus of “I Wonder.”
It goes: “I wonder how many times you’d been had / And I wonder how many plans have gone bad / I wonder how many times you had sex / I wonder do you know who’ll be next.”
Cold Fact is the album that got a second chance. It impacted South Africa deeply with its political roots, uncensored messages, and critique of society. Make no mistake about it: the intense appreciation for this album is completely justified. The tracks are poignant in addressing social issues that frustratingly remain relevant today, and on top of that they’ve got the charm of clever lyrics and twangy guitar. It’s everything you could want in a ’70s album, and that’s a Cold Factt, baby.
Chandy is a biology major/chemistry minor who's been a staff writer, Arts editor, and Managing Editor at The Cascade. She began writing in elementary school when she produced Tamagotchi fanfiction to show her peers at school -- she now lives in fear that this may have been her creative peak.
