"Philly artists don’t support each other". I can't remember the exact day I first heard or accepted this notion as true, but for years, this idea—this myth—persisted in the forefront of my mind and in the zeitgeist of the Philly creative scene. It went unquestioned. Of course they don't support each other; music is competitive, and being an artist is a relentless race. I do, however, remember the day the truth of this gospel was turned on its head, and I ceased to be a believer.
That day unfolded a few years back at the Khyber Pass Pub. Sovie (once part of the band Just Mad Nice) had left the stage after their ethereal voice filled the room with their brilliant performance. As I stood near the back, a group of musicians clustered near the bar. I distinctly remember looking around and saying, almost to myself, “Wow, there are so many musicians here right now.” Another artist named Sug Daniels overheard me and said matter-of-factly, “Yeah, we like to come out to support each other.” Their unassuming statement had a profound and lasting impact on me, forever shifting my view.
Philadelphia is a city rich with talent and musical greatness, its history woven deeply with rhythm and resilience. Its heritage stretches back to the drums and flutes of the Lenape, Philadelphia’s original people, whose melodies echoed through this land long before the first recorded concerts held by its colonizers. From pioneering voices like Marian Anderson, whose powerful performance at the Lincoln Memorial was a beacon of hope and artistry, to beloved icons like Jill Scott, the unparalleled Patti LaBelle (our favorite auntie), and legendary groups like The Roots, our city has always vibrated with extraordinary sound. But our musical story isn't just about the household names. It's about the everyday pulse: the emerging artists, the captivating buskers enchanting passersby in Rittenhouse Square. It's about the singers whose names you don't know yet, but whose voices stop you in your tracks—the countless individuals who shape the city’s evolving sound every single day. It is among these artists that the truest spirit of Philadelphia's musical community shines.
At the time, I didn’t fully recognize it, but years before that night at the Khyber Pass Pub, I had also witnessed that same spirit of community while on the set of one of Queen Jo’s video shoots. After the shoot wrapped, one of the DJs on set hugged her and said, “I’m proud of you.” I felt the profound power of those words, especially coming from a peer. In the music scene, where so much feels uncertain, it’s often the people in the trenches with you—your community—who provide the encouragement that keeps you going.
Seeing the quiet ways Philly artists support, uplift, and stand with each other gave me the inspiration to expand Can’t Colonize the Vibe. I had always used the platform to highlight my own work, but I realized I could contribute to the ecosystem by extending it to recognize and highlight other musicians in Philadelphia.
The truth, I now know, is that Philadelphia artists do support each other, full stop. And I want to be more than just an observer; I want to be an active part of amplifying this incredible reality. Far too often, artists lack a clear outlet to truly explain their craft, their passion, or the profound why behind their work. They create astonishing art, yet aren't always positioned to share it widely, to illuminate what makes it so deeply meaningful. That’s why I’m using Can’t Colonize the Vibe as a platform not just for my voice, but for theirs too. This isn’t just about music; it’s about building a stronger, more visible ecosystem of support—one where every artist can truly shine. We’re not just writing about music; we’re igniting a movement rooted in genuine connection and collective uplift.
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Cherrelle Champagne
Founder, Can’t Colonize the Vibe
Tyline Burgess
Contributing Writer