As protests persist in all 50 states in the wake of George Floyd’s murder, many musicians have been outspoken about their support of the demonstrators. J. Cole is among several musicians, like Kanye West and even Ariana Grande, who showed up to stand alongside protesters in their home city. Now, J. Cole has given the green light to release a touching protest track from 2014 on streaming services.

Following the death of Michael Brown in 2014, J. Cole penned the track “Be Free.” The rapper shared the anthem on SoundCloud, but the track never saw a release on other streaming platforms. Now, amid a resurgence of Black Lives Matter protests, J. Cole has allowed his manager and Dreamville Records co-founder Ibrahim Hamad to share the song everywhere.

As Hamad explained on Twitter: “I’ve def seen a bunch of y’all tweets and got a bunch of texts asking for “Be Free” on streaming services.” Hamad got the go-ahead from J. Cole, so the track will likely appear on streaming services in the near future.

At the time of the song’s release, J. Cole added a heartfelt message alongside the track: “Rest in Peace to Michael Brown and to every young black man murdered in America, whether by the hands of white or black. I pray that one day the world will be filled with peace and rid of injustice. Only then will we all Be Free.”

In other J. Cole news, the rapper recently commended the Minneapolis mayor and city council members for voting to disband the Minneapolis Police Department following the murder of George Floyd. In just his third tweet of the year, J. Cole shared the news, writing: “Powerful powerful.”

Listen to “Be Free” on SoundCloud here.

When the mysterious RMR appeared earlier this year with a trap-country take on Rascal Flatts’ “God Bless The Broken Road,” he became an instant viral sensation. His look contrasted so thoroughly from his sound, he quickly captured the attention of rap fans looking for something new. However, he quickly proved that he was more than just a one-hit gimmick with “Dealer” featuring Future and Lil Baby and “I’m Not Over You,” which he debuted on Showtime’s Desus & Mero.

Now, it’s time for him to release his debut project, Drug Dealing Is A Lost Art, which was pushed back one week out of respect for protests against police brutality. The masked crooner shared a trailer for the album called “Controlled Narrative” on YouTube, posing a philosophical question for all his newfound fans: “Do you trust me?” The video concludes with the reveal for the new album release date, this Friday, June 12, as well as the star-studded, seven-song tracklist. Along with the aforementioned Future and Lil Baby remix of “Dealer,” the features also include Young Thug and Westside Gunn. Check out the trailer above.

Drug Dealing Is A Lost Art is due 6/12 on Warner Records.

Some artists covered here are Warner Music artists. Uproxx is an independent subsidiary of Warner Music Group.

For eight NBA teams, the offseason has officially begun now that the league and the NBPA have both agreed to a 22-team restart plan in Orlando. Among those teams are the Atlanta Hawks, who despite some preseason buzz that they could leap into the playoff conversation in the East this year, were unable to take a leap with a very young roster around first-time All-Star Trae Young this season.

On Tuesday, the Hawks held virtual exit meetings with general manager Travis Schlenk and head coach Lloyd Pierce, in which they discussed the season that was and looked ahead to the offseason transaction period that is still months away in October as well as next season. Schlenk talked about how the Hawks wouldn’t be beholden to drafting based off of positional need no matter where they land in the lottery, which raises eyebrows considering some of the top prospects share some overlap in skills and position with Young, but from a national perspective, the most interesting note was on what he expects the 2020-21 season to look like.

The NBA’s proposal called for an incredibly short offseason for Finals teams, with under a month between the Finals ending on October 12 and training camp beginning on November 10 so they can start the season on December 1. The NBPA was “surprised” by that timetable, and the expectation is that gets pushed back — a Christmas day start has long been an expected target date for the season to return and makes more sense for getting players rest. Whatever the case, as Schlenk told the media via video call Tuesday, he expects a very condensed schedule, with more back-to-backs and four game in five night stretches than we’ve seen recently as the league has worked hard to remove as many of those from the schedule as possible.

This, of course, raises concerns for playoff teams that will come off a shortened offseason and then be forced to play a condensed schedule in an effort to finish the season close to on time. The Tokyo Olympics looming in late summer may be one of the reasons for the league pushing to finish its season on time in order to allow for a full USA Basketball training camp and a roster of the best stars, but after such a strange finish to this season and aggressive scheduling next, it wouldn’t surprise many to see a number of players from teams that play deep into this upcoming postseason to withdraw their names from international competition.

Now, for a team like the Hawks looking to make a leap next year or, even more so, the Warriors getting Stephen Curry and Klay Thompson back healthy, this condensed schedule might just play into their hands. More back-to-backs will likely mean lots more strategic resting from those expecting another postseason run and might open up some regular season wins for teams coming off a nine-month layoff who may not need to rest guys as aggressively. All of this will have to be negotiated and it’s hard to see how a December start leads to an 82-game season — 70 seems far more realistic — but whatever the case, expect some rough stretches for your favorite team next year in terms of scheduling.

Earlier this year Judd Apatow was on Conan O’Brien’s podcast, sometime before the middle of March – I know this because I remember listening to it on the Q train and it’s been a considerable amount of time since I’ve been on the New York City subway – and when the subject of The King of Staten Island was brought up, he sounded fraught. Actually, that’s not entirely true, since O’Brien merely asked, “how are you,” (granted, a more and more difficult question to answer every day) before Apatow launched into an answer about how frustrated he was working on post-production of his new movie. I remember thinking to myself, while listening on the Q train, oh, that doesn’t sound good.

In retrospect, this makes a lot more sense. The King of Staten Island, which is getting great reviews, seems like a movie where everything has to be meticulous to work. (And it does work.) And when Apatow was talking to O’Brien, he was in the editing process and couldn’t quite get the opening scene right. It was Leslie Mann who suggested moving a scene of Pete Davidson’s Scott, obviously distraught, probably under the influence, driving along, not noticing the accident just up ahead. It’s a terrific opening scene and tells us everything we need to know about Scott. But, as Apatow says, he was being “bullheaded” and didn’t take this advice for months. It was only after he moved the scene that it all come together.

The King of Staten Island is loosely based on the life of Pete Davidson, who plays Scott, but with some major differences. As Apatow explains ahead, throwing 9/11 into this movie was just too much of a shared grief and would take away from Scott’s (and Davidson’s) personal grief. So Scott’s firefighter father dies in 2004, as Scott, now in his 20s, just kind of drifts aimlessly through life. But, as Apatow says, The King of Staten Island, at its heart, is a love story between Scott and Bill Burr’s Ray, the firefighter love interest of Scott’s mother (played by Marisa Tomei). It’s a deceptively sweet film that, as Apatow admits, still has at least one scene that makes him tear up every time.

Judd Apatow: How are you?

I keep catching myself saying “good,” but I wish I could just say “bad” and not have to offer an explanation. If you say “good” people don’t ask why.

Yeah, I know. It’s all new territory.

I’m sure it has to be weird for you right now doing press for a movie.

Yeah. It’s unprecedented times.

How are you holding up on the press tour? I’m assuming it’s a bit weird.

When our release date was canceled, I decided not to put any energy into worrying about when the movie would come out. There are more important things happening and I figured it would get figured out at some point. And then we decided that we would put it out on video on demand, which I was excited about because I thought this movie makes people happy. It’s also about first responders: firemen and nurses and trauma and grief, and it might help people process some of what’s going on around them. And I adjusted to the idea that we would have it come out on June 12th … and then the world changed again with everything that’s occurring right now. Obviously, it’s not important in the grand scheme of things, so I’m just doing my best to try to be positive during a really difficult time. I always feel like nothing will get better in the world, unless we all realize that we’re in this together. And whenever people try to separate people, it only leads to bad things. And it’s a Buddhist idea that we all need to get over the illusion of separateness.

It is a surprisingly emotional movie about firefighters.

Well, firefighters are very special people and we spent a lot of time with them over the last few years. The movie is a tribute to people who are willing to take those types of risks to help other people. And now with what’s happening with COVID, we see that there are people in many professions who put themselves in harm’s way to help others. That’s part of why I wanted the movie to come out, because it is a way of acknowledging that.

There’s a really poignant moment in the film when Bill Burr’s character goes into a burning building. I teared up during that.

I do every time. It’s easy to go through life and not fully pay attention to the people around you who have your back.

You were on Conan O’Brien’s podcast, maybe three months ago? I remember listening when I was on the subway, which feels like forever ago. And when you mentioned this movie you sounded fraught. You were fraught about something involved with editing the movie. Was this a particularly stressful edit?

Oh, I was having trouble figuring something out with the movie. I had the order of scenes and I couldn’t figure out how to fix it and I was getting very frustrated. So I went on Conan’s podcast and I just leaned into expressing to him what it feels like when things aren’t going well creatively. What was actually happening was there was a scene in the movie, which currently opens the movie, which I had 20 minutes into the movie. And for three months, my wife, Leslie, had been telling me that scene was in the wrong place and it should be the opening scene of the movie. And because I was so married to this progression we had thought of, I kept resisting her perfect note. And then when I finally tried it, it fixed the entire first half.

That opening scene is great.

Well, I was being bullheaded and saying, “You don’t understand what we’re doing here.” But I was completely wrong for months.

In the movie, Pete’s character’s father dies in 2004. I get this is loosely based on Pete’s life, but where is the line for you where that begins and ends? Why the differences at all?

Well, we were trying to come up with a story that would allow us to explore all the emotional terrain that Pete’s dealt with. And what we all came up with was the idea of his mom dating another fireman and how that would force him to confront everything which he hadn’t gotten over yet. We very quickly decided that 9/11 is too big a subject to fit into a movie like this. It’s a trauma that the entire world shares and we wanted this movie to be about his personal grief. But, at the same time, we were aware that when people watch the movie they will know, on some level, that it is about what Pete went through. So we came up with a fictional story that we hope is emotionally truthful. Nothing in the movie happened, but in a way it’s very honest.

Did you happen to see Bill Burr in The Mandalorian?

I didn’t, but I heard about it. I heard he was amazing in it.

I feel like he hit a new level with The Mandalorian, now every Star Wars fan knows him. That must be nice, considering he’s such a big part of your film.

I mean, I’ve seen him acting in Breaking Bad. He’s in the movie about Gary Hart. His voice work is incredible on the TV show that he makes, F is for Family. But I thought this movie was a great opportunity to show all sorts of different dimensions of Bill. People know him as this hilarious, opinionated guy. But he also has a big heart and a soft spot and a soft side. And in the role of Ray, we get to see all of that because the movie is, at its core, a love story between a young man and someone who might become his stepfather. I mean, it’s really fun to work with someone who’s had so much life experiences, so funny and talented, but hasn’t had a big lead part like this before.

He’s very good.

He had so much to offer and was a big part of the writing process with us. He helped create that character. So many of the great lines of the film, he came up with. And that’s how I like to work, a giant collaboration.

And I want to ask about one specific scene, because it’s a lot different than the rest of the movie. I don’t want to give too much away, but there’s a scene where Scott and his friends rob a drug store and there’s a shootout. Where did that come from?

I mean, the inspiration for it was the fact that Pete said there was a moment growing up in Staten Island where he felt like people were beginning to get in more trouble. And we wanted to show that this character was really lost and not having many options. There was the possibility that he might make some terrible choices and rob a pharmacy, thinking it would be really easy, but having it turn into a bit of a disaster. The person he robbed is Robert Smigel!

Oh yeah. I know. I was very happy when he showed up.

He was in This is 40 and was so funny.

I really liked Pete in Big Time Adolescence…

Oh, yeah! He’s fantastic in that movie.

I know you worked with him in Trainwreck for a little bit, but how was he as an actor? In terms of directing him. I know he doesn’t have a lot of experience, but he does seem pretty natural…

Yeah. I mean, he’s a real natural actor and he’s very present. We did a bunch of table reads and a lot of rehearsing with a ton of improvisation, so by the time we got to the set we had worked on the scenes a lot and felt good about what we were trying to do. But as an actor, Pete’s right there. It’s like the moment is happening. He’s not someone who has notes on his script saying, “talk louder here. Feel sadder here.” He just throws himself into it and lives the scene in a way that’s very exciting and sometimes hilarious to watch.

You can contact Mike Ryan directly on Twitter.

Run The Jewels recently released their new album, RTJ4, a couple days early. So, for charting purposes, the album’s debut week consisted only of listening data from last Wednesday and Thursday. In spite of that, RTJ4 is already the duo’s highest-charting album ever thanks to its No. 10 debut on the Billboard 200. Meanwhile, El-P is an active presence on Twitter, and after the news of RTJ4‘s chart placement was revealed, El found himself in what ended up being a sort of impromptu question-and-answer session: Last night, he spent a good chunk of time responding to tweets from fans asking questions about RTJ4.

One fan asked about a sample that El-P previously mentioned he was trying to clear so he could use it on the album, and he revealed that he wasn’t able to get permission to use the audio in question, whatever it was: “it wasn’t cleared so it didn’t make the album so you’ll never know.” Somebody else asked if that prevented the track from appearing on the album at all, and El-P revealed that he “remixed the whole song.”

Speaking of things that didn’t make the album, El noted, “we also have a version of walking in the snow where the last section has about 12 more bars of me and mike going back and forth.” A number of RTJ4 songs went through multiple phases, like “Ju$t” and “Out Of Sight.”

Check out some more inside info about RTJ4 from El-P below.

The RX is Uproxx Music’s stamp of approval for the best albums, songs, and music stories throughout the year. Inclusion in this category is the highest distinction we can bestow, and signals the most important music being released throughout the year. The RX is the music you need, right now.

On “Walking In The Snow,” the centerpiece moment from Run The Jewels’ fourth studio album, Killer Mike delivers a heart-wrenching verse in which he vividly recounts the NYPD killing of Eric Garner. It’s downright spooky how much it resonates in the wake of the more recent death of George Floyd at the hands of the Minneapolis Police Department — right down to the chilling refrain, “I can’t breathe.”

It’s tempting to say that RTJ4 is the most fitting document of our “current moment.” Welcome to the real world, where our current moment has been going on for over 100 years. Run The Jewels is not prescient or prophetic. They didn’t predict the uprisings currently sweeping the nation and the globe. They merely observe. When El-P points out on “JU$T,” “When your bases loaded / They’ll roll a grenade in the dugout,” he’s not hypothesizing. He’s talking about the burning of Black Wall Street, the destruction of the Black Panthers. When Mike wonders, “You believe corporations runnin’ marijuana?” it’s a loaded question. The subtext: Legal weed being corporatized at a terrifying pace after three decades of the “war on drugs” systematically undermined two generations of Black American communities, families, and opportunities.

Run The Jewels never predicted the future. They just spoke about what’s been going on all along. Where RTJ4 stands out is in its concision and clarity. Mike and El-P have always been blunt, slamming home their points over blustering beats provided by the maestro El-P and addressing the ills of modern society as often as they threaten to stomp out imposters. Here, though, there’s a new level of focus. They’re still plain-spoken and direct-to-the-point, but the hammer is accompanied now by a scalpel, cutting through to the heart of their truths and leaving the viscera on the table.

Over the phone, the two seers explained how their music remains as potent as ever, the ways their bond evolved over the years, what it means to be an ally, and what’s next for the revolution, which is indeed being televised.

‘Walking In The Snow’ punched me in the chest. It just took all my wind out. Mike says all you do is sit on your couch and Twitter rant. What happens after the Twitter rant?

El-P: I mean, you’re seeing it in the streets right now, right? You’re seeing it right now. Looking around f*cking Twitter, watching motherf*ckers tear sh*t apart, because at a certain point our generation is not f*cking having it. At a certain point, you react the way that the game has been set. If the game is set, you have nothing left to do but to get your voice heard and to say, ‘This is unacceptable.’ Then you tear sh*t down. That’s it.

Killer Mike: I would like to tell young people that all this has been done before, and there’s a level past this, of Bobby Seale saying, ‘You’re not outnumbered, you’re out organized.’ We burnt down Atlanta. They burned down in LA in ’92, they’ve rioted in the streets from New York to Miami before. This, what you’re doing, is natural. It is natural as a baby crying when it is popped. So do not be ashamed for what you’re doing, but there’s a level of organization after this.

I don’t have all those answers, but the people before you, whether it’s Eugene Debs or Stokely Carmichael, whether it’s Fannie Lou Hamer or Lucy Parkin, you can start to study that and study those techniques and see. What I can tell you first, though, is to look at the local [government]. That mayor should never be reelected, that chief should be exited with that mayor. Any city council, anybody who was not for those cops getting the death penalty. Then you have to decide you’re going to organize locally and change your local elections and your local laws. So that if a policeman does not at least have to engage in the one, two, three-isms that a soldier would have to do to engage, to kill someone, if you don’t change it so you have a community board with power to oversee police, and unions don’t have as much power, in terms of police unions being able to bully politicians, then we’re just going to keep burning sh*t every 20 years.

Jamie, you actually told Kweli on People’s Party that you can’t love Black music without loving Black people. What do you think it takes for Caucasian folks, folks of European descent? I don’t want to say “white” because I believe “white” is reserved for a very specific mindset. How do you step in and fill in the gap?

El-P: I will say that, first of all, I cannot speak for everybody. I don’t think I can speak for everybody because I didn’t have the exact same upbringing that everybody who looks like me had, in the sense that I was lucky enough to be born into a city that was multicultural, and I have always had a diverse group of friends. So it was, and it’s a little bit of a bubble, right? But what I can say is that I feel very strongly in this, and it’s the reason why I can confidently stand by my friend and make records in solidarity with him, and contribute to the conversation and not blink an eye, because I fully believe what I’m saying. And what I will say is this, it’s a few things that we touch on, on the record. One of which is a practical method.

The truth of the matter is, unless you take an offense against humanity personally, then you are not part of the human collective. The only way that any of this sh*t is ever going to change is if the people who are “allies,” friends, people who consider themselves empathetic, people who consider themselves good people, do more than simply just quietly empathize. We have to start taking an offense against our human brothers and sisters as an offense against us. It absolutely has to be as heartbreaking and as offensive to us as any other crime against another human. And it has to be all the time. It has to be that you feel it all the time, and that is the only functional way, in my mind, that things are going to change.

But let me present to you this thought. When they’re done, when they’re gone, when those people that are at the lowest of the totem pole of society, economically and culturally, the way that you have set it up, the way that it has been set up, when they’re done, who’s next? Because, and I say this on the record, funny thing about a cage, they’re never built for just one group. So when that cage is done with them and you’re still poor, it comes for you. Don’t f*cking forget that in your assistance of creating and enabling a police state, creating and enabling a cage, that cage is not disappearing the second that the people that you don’t care about are no longer there. You simply get to be the next group of people who suffer.

That’s capitalism. And that’s why when I watched the “Ooh La La” video, I actually cried a little bit because I didn’t know I wanted to see that so bad until you guys showed it to me. It was like, ‘Oh, hey, this is what happens after all these corrupt institutions are taken down.’

El-P: It was joyous. You know? I mean, I think we felt joy in doing it. You can see on the video, it was truly joyous. Everybody on that video was having the best f*cking day. We were all having the best day.

Killer Mike: I requested a jump rope, so it was a hell of a day for me.

El-P: I think that we reached for a metaphor that could communicate what we were trying to communicate, which is that freedom is something we don’t have yet. And until the constructs and the chains of our own caste system that we created are really gone — not that anyone’s won or lost, that simply humans have won — all of a sudden you wake up one day and there’s nothing there to delineate that anyone else is better or worse than anybody else. Wouldn’t that be fun? Wouldn’t that be a party?

Another thing that stood out to me is Pharrell speaking about “slave masters posing on your dollars,” which just feels like something different for him.

Killer Mike: Pharrell understood the perspective that Run the Jewels has and he added to it with that hook, because two things can exist or are existing simultaneously. I grew up in Atlanta, Georgia. I grew up with a Black political class. You have the cultural class. Black money. And that Black class figured out a way not to oppress, hurt, harm. Sometimes it’s debatable, arguable, but to work with the Black middle-working class and even the poor, to make sure that the city is one where a child who was raised by two grandparents gets to live his dream of being a rapper, but then gets to enter the business class to ownership and entrepreneurship.

So he’s not wrong for [coining] the “New Blacks” term. Or it’s not a contrast for this record. He came into the world of Run the Jewels and he added to help make it doper because he’s Pharrell. And he was dope, we was dope, and together it was dopest. I’m careful about that because we’re not Public Enemy. We love Public Enemy. We’re fans of Public Enemy.

El-P: We’re 100%, and I also think that with Pharrell, it’s like, look, there’s a reason why artists present themselves in multiple different ways or multiple different songs. And it’s because artists are more complex than one song. I’m going to be real with you. I thought that we were going to get some f*cking big commercial hook and sh*t, and this dude came back with the rawest hook of all time. And I was just like, ‘Yo, this sh*t is ill.’ And so I just want to appreciate him for that, because for us it felt like he really gave something to us.

Killer Mike: Shout out to our boy KP too, man. It’s always good to have a friend encouraging the homies, so KP really made sure, he’s a big fan of Run the Jewels. He used to be Outkast’s A&R, TLC’s A&R Usher. But he really wanted to see Run The Jewels and Pharrell do something. So I got to say, from that side, he was definitely an advocate in the ear.

Now, El, you’ve made the analogy of the four-album run before with EPMD, UGK, Outkast. What do you guys consider to be the biggest difference from the first Run The Jewels to Run the Jewels 4?

El-P: I mean, look, it’s not like you’re going to hear a Run the Jewels record and be like “Who are these guys?” It’s obviously us. It’s still me and my friend, trying to out rap each other and trying to make dope jams together. We’re trying to carve spaces out to keep ourselves excited about music and just to figure out new, fun ways to make dope classic rap jams.

At our core, we’re still inspired and we still feel fresh about the sh*t. When we get in a room together, it’s still electric. All other bullsh*t aside, when we’re together and we actually start seeing our vocals bounce off each other, and we start hearing that, we are always impressed with how it feels.

So in terms of what makes it different, we feel like this is a distillation of everything that we do and we really walked away from this feeling like we gave it our all and we stuck the landing. This is what the vibe was that we wanted to feel. And I don’t think there’s any radical departures, except we know going in how we want people to feel. We knew we wanted this to be raw and funky and joyous.

Killer Mike: It makes you want to do the Wop, too.

I know you have bigger expectations with this one, because it’s your first time on a real major platform. How do you handle the pressure of expectations and where is Run the Jewels next year?

El-P: On tour.

Killer Mike: We expect to be on tour and I think that our greatest expectations are to outdo ourselves. Our constant, constant, constant motivation is outdoing ourselves and not resting on our laurels. And that makes it easy to stay motivated to do dope sh*t, for us. Because I’m a fan of Run the Jewels. I’m in Run the Jewels and I like sitting around smoking, listening to dope ass rap music that gives me that wop and that bop and that feeling that I love rap music for. And that’s what RTJ 4 does.

We just stay in a constant evolution of trying to outdo ourselves. I saw OutKast do that when I was just an understudy who was lucky enough to hang around in the studio. I saw Big and Dre, every time, try to outdo the Big and Dre that was prior, two years before then. The secret to our newness or progressiveness, or whatever it’s described as, is simply that we’re running away from pausing in the accolades that we had the last record, and running toward whatever we have to do with this one.

RTJ4 is out now via Jewel Runners LLC. Get it here.

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A week after the music industry held a black out day to consider ways to support their Black artists, employees, and consumers and join the fight against police brutality, a number of industry professionals, including high-profile artists signed an open letter demanding police reform. According to Billboard, the letter pushes for the state of New York to repeal its statute 50-A, which conceals police officers’ personnel and disciplinary records from public view.

Ariana Grande, Billie Eilish, Future, Megan Thee Stallion, Meek Mill, Migos, Nas, Post Malone, and Rihanna are among those who signed the letter, which calls 50-A a “boulder in the path of justice.” The push comes amid public outcry in the wake of the police killings of Breonna Taylor and George Floyd, which sparked nationwide protests that have gone on for weeks.

Read the full letter below.

We mourn the killing of George Floyd and the unnecessary loss of so many black lives before his. We must hold accountable those who violate the oath to protect and serve, and find justice for those who are victim to their violence. An indispensable step is having access to disciplinary records of law enforcement officers. New York statute 50-A blocks that full transparency, shielding a history of police misconduct from public scrutiny, making it harder to seek justice and bring about reform. It must be repealed immediately.

It is not enough to chip away at 50-A; this boulder in the path of justice has stood in the way for far too long and must be crushed entirely. It is not just a misreading of the statute; it is not just an inappropriate broadening of its scope. It is the statute itself, serving to block relevant crucial information in the search for accountability.

We were pleased to hear the Governor’s statement that 50-A should not prohibit the release of disciplinary records. But, clearly, it is not enough. 50-A has been used far too often in the past and, without repeal, it will continue to be used to block justice. When the Legislature returns this week, we urge members to recognize the moment, take one loud, bold, and meaningful step in addressing this systemic problem, and swiftly repeal 50-A.

Thank you.

Some artists covered here are Warner Music artists. Uproxx is an independent subsidiary of Warner Music Group.

Sun slips through the gaps in protest signs and raised fists, glancing into the lens of Damian Lillard’s phone camera to create a flare and flicker of light in the live video he’s recording of the Portland protest he’s joined. It was the 8th day and night of protests in Portland, a mirror to what’s happening across the country and worldwide, against the murder of George Floyd and the ongoing police brutality across the United States. Lillard’s voice echoes thousands of others in rolling, call and response chants of “Whose Streets? Our Streets”, “Black Lives Matter” and the individual naming of George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery and Breonna Taylor. When the chorus shifts to “No justice, no peace”, while the audio in the recording of Lillard’s video has made his voice sound singular throughout, when he begins to repeat, “No peace, no peace, no peace” there is a pronounced emphasis on both words, a deliberate attention as his breath slows and gathers before each word, over and over — No. Peace. — that resonates.

Lillard has always been a master of control, in his steadiness and gift of foresight on court, his ongoing activism and exacting responses equating the sick to sports narrative with slavery. He is one of the most consistent players and people involved in the NBA and has worked, primarily through his actions, toward the legacy goal of his own words in “being a more solid person than a player”.

In his continued commitment to character, to being sincerely himself, Lillard is, much to the NBA’s luck, almost archetypal. He is an exemplary athlete, his activism and athletic skill are equally balanced, cooperative and endorseable. That’s why, when Lillard was accused recently of being a “spoiled and entitled brat” by ESPN’s Dan Orlovsky for saying he had no desire for the Trail Blazers to return to play in the league’s proposed bubble, he also exemplified the league’s current and blatant disconnect.

As a competitor, Lillard made it clear there was no point for him or his team to return once the season resumed if there was no numerical way for them to have a shot at the playoffs. At that point, like now, there were also no clear plans in place when it came to player safety given the ongoing spike of COVID-19 cases across the U.S., including Florida, where the league will make its return.

Orlovsky’s response centered mainly on a desperate attempt to draw gossamer parallels between what the ravages of the pandemic have taught us — to not take anything for granted, that frontline workers are required to “have to go do things” — and Damian Lillard deciding he was fine with not playing basketball right now. Aside from being grossly reductive to the work being done by those on the frontlines, all who would prefer Orlovsky’s breathless reaching be directed at pressure on, perhaps, government that can increase hazard pay or allocate more resources, it clarified a problematic point still entrenched within pro sports and those who push it, that the spectacle of performance is more essential than the people participating. That basketball, the act of playing it, and the structure it is encased in precedes the very engine, its players.

The NBA announced the ratification of its plan for the season to restart in a bubble league in Orlando in July the same day the state of Florida recorded its greatest increase of COVID-19 cases thus far and while many American cities were smoldering. Despite the ongoing pandemic, Americans have been in the streets for two weeks demanding justice for George Floyd and the barbaric practices of policing Black people. Protests have been unilaterally met by more brutality from the police responding to them, which has increased the volume of protests, a rising cycle of abuse and response that NBA players have joined by lending their voices and platforms or physically showing up to march. Jaylen Brown, Tobias Harris, Malcolm Brogdon, Enes Kanter, Aaron Gordon, Kyle Kuzma, Terry Rozier, Lonzo Ball, Klay Thompson, Stephen Curry, Giannis Antetokounmpo, and Lillard are just some of the players who have been protesting in demonstrations across the country. As a league, the NBA has a long and supportive history of civil unrest, with its players calling for change and reformative action in the face of social injustice. There have been times, however, when the league has been slow, and at times unresponsive, to backing its players in their efforts, especially if they represented a potential disruption to the continuity of the game itself.

When Bill Russell and his Black teammates were refused service in a Lexington, Kentucky restaurant prior to a Celtics preseason game, Russell and his teammates boycotted the game. In 1966, when Russell became the head coach of the Celtics, he faced relentless bigotry and was deemed difficult by white media and unfriendly by white fans who would later break into Russell’s home to damage his trophies, cover the walls in racist graffiti, and defecate in the beds. The FBI held a file on Russell that described him as “an arrogant Negro who won’t sign autographs for white children”. During his tenure, the Celtics offered a survey to fans in hopes of increasing attendance, the over 50% of the response was that there were “too many black players.” He delivered the city back-to-back championships.

Craig Hodges was a pioneer in the NBA’s 3-point game and helped the Bulls to their first two titles with his leading 3-point percentage. As a social activist and Muslim, when the Bulls were invited to the White House, Hodges handed George Bush a letter opposing Desert Storm and raised concerns with racism within the U.S. Shortly after, Hodges was dropped by the team and his 10-year career came to an abrupt end. Four years later, he would go on to file a $40-million lawsuit against the league, claiming the league was embarrassed by his action at the White House. The case was thrown out on a technicality — the statute of limitations on racial discrimination cases was two years.

In the NBA’s current rulebook protests are “not permitted during the course of a game.” The rule book also states that players, coaches and trainers “are to stand and line up in a dignified posture along the sidelines or on the foul line during the playing of the National Anthem.” These rules were already in place when Colin Kaepernick began taking knee in the NFL, and many NBA players wanted to act in solidarity with Kaepernick and his protest against oppression, the overt killing of Black people and police brutality. The league didn’t yield on that rule, and players instead stood with arms locked during the anthem, heads bowed in silence.

These same rules were in place when Nuggets guard, Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf, refused to stand for the anthem in March 1996. Initially, Abdul-Rauf would linger in the locker room, or stretch when the anthem was played, and it was not until he was asked by media about that the gesture — his response to the flag being a symbol of oppression and systematic racism and that standing for the anthem would conflict with his beliefs as a Muslim — became a point of contention. On March 12, 1996, former commissioner David Stern suspended Abdul-Rauf. Days later he agreed to the league’s compromise of standing with his head bowed and eyes closed during the anthem. In response, two Denver DJs trespassed into a mosque and played the American national anthem with their trumpets “as a stunt,” Abdul-Rauf was traded in a career-high season to the Kings where he lost his starting spot and would be out of a career a year later at 29. Five years later, his house in Gulfport, Mississippi, was burned to the ground.

Claiming that these instances were of their time may be historically correct but not any less problematic or prime examples where the league placed the value of the continuity of play above the league’s players, its own people. Russell has somewhat since reconciled with the Celtics but after everything he went through, he had no responsibility to, and Hodges was ostracized anew by the framing he received in The Last Dance. Abdul-Rauf was a player at the height of his career who opted to use his platform and likely hoped it would afford him some measure of protection against retaliation, overt or surreptitious. Instead he received neither.

League-backed instances of activism and protest are often equated to the changing of the guard from Stern to Adam Silver, but many occurred while Stern was acting commissioner. What they have in common is that they, for the most part, happened off the court or, when they overlapped with the game, they were statements that sprung from a backstory and had a reference point needed in order to be understood.

When Phoenix donned their Los Suns jersey on Cinco de Mayo in 2010, it was to celebrate the holiday, but it was also a statement opposing the introduction of the state’s strictest anti-immigration law to date. The law, SB 1070, allowed local police to check the legal status of those they suspected to be undocumented immigrants at random, an action that led to increased and emboldened racial profiling of the Latino community in Phoenix. Fans and locals understood the gesture, but the jerseys, which had been introduced in 2006, did not raise much response of reaction beyond that instance. Similarly, when Trayvon Martin was murdered in February 2012, the roster of the Miami Heat would respond by donning hoodies before a game in late-March in honor of what Martin wore when he was shot in his family’s own neighborhood. It was LeBron James who would tweet the photo the team took together out.

James has become the NBA’s most prominent voice on social justice and inequality, and it has been through the prolific platform he’s cultivated. This initially came through social media, where James currently sits at 112 million followers across Twitter and Instagram, and later through his far-reaching philanthropic efforts and multidimensional media company, UNINTERRUPTED. James is his own network and it is hard to imagine his career being derailed by the act of speaking out. By and large he is looked to by the league itself and its community of players as a barometer of response, a role he has fully and meaningfully inhabited since his and the Cavs “I Can’t Breathe” shirts in response to Eric Garner’s 2014 murder, his turning Fox’s Laura Ingraham’s beautifully backfiring “Shut up and dribble” into a mantra and movement, his calling Trump a “bum”, and now, again, in standing up amid widespread unrest.

It is the platform of its players that the league understands to be the most powerful, and where, at times, it rightly takes backseat and lets players speak for themselves. In the peak of Kaepernick’s protest, Silver and former NBA Players Association Executive Director, Michele Roberts, wrote an open letter to players, encouraging them to speak up on “critical issues that affect our society also impact you directly”. The messaging was by no means hollow, but it was also a step that, intentional or not, diffused the question of whether or not NBA players would kneel during the anthem. As younger and more communication savvy generations are drafted into the league each year, fluent and in some cases better and more quickly informed on social issues as they develop than executives in the league, there will be less of an inclination from them to wait. They’ve grown up in a world where things don’t always get addressed or get better. They want what is actionable, fast and impactful.

Like James, the league’s own efforts in activism, championing progressive causes and social response have been far-reaching and genuine. In its Represent Justice campaign, it has brought teams into American prisons for games and to encourage dialogue and break down stigmas associated with those incarcerated, the majority of whom are disproportionately Black. It works with many non-partisan organizations to host voter registration events and through NBA Voices the league has partnered with community organizations working to address inequality including the Equal Justice Initiative, Athlete Ally, Innocence Project, Rise and many more. Internally, it is a league striving to create better resources for its players, investing in their performance as much as their mental health.

But still, where the league gets snagged is where these efforts don’t align with its business model and sole product — basketball. It was less than a year ago when Rockets GM, Daryl Morey, tweeted his support for Hong Kong protestors and their anti-extradition action. Morey was swiftly brought to heel. In his statement, Rockets owner Tilman Fertitta distanced himself and the team from Morey, and the league’s response called Morey’s statement “regrettable.” Silver lamented the economic impact of the tweet while insisting the league was supporting Morey, admitting that “China” demanded Morey be fired. The fallout grew even stranger, with right-wing U.S. politicians celebrating Morey for standing up to China, many who aligned themselves in policy and action with Trump, who the NBA’s players have spoken out against since he first took office. What was clear was that while Morey exercised a tenant of NBA to speak out and speak freely on critical issues, he did so where it stood to hurt expansion efforts and the league’s bottom line.

The push by the NBA now to resume doesn’t just bulldoze over a pandemic, it bulldozes over hundreds of thousands of voices in anguish, demanding change. It is hard to know what the U.S. is going to look like in two weeks, let alone by the end of July when professional basketball is set to resume. Will protests continue to gain momentum? Will the pandemic?

The NBA is a large, private corporation. It can be easy to forget that because they employ some of the biggest personalities whose outspoken tendencies accelerate our familiarization and resulting fondness to them. That and the sport is so visible. Watching, you begin to get a feel for an individual player’s tics and range, you are tied up in their visceral triumphs. The NBA is also a global leader in progressive action that through its outsized financial gains, meaningful partnerships and independent initiatives, has contributed to some of the most profound change in the way sports are representative of something greater as much as they are played and consumed. What recent months have laid painfully bare, whether or not you watch basketball, is that there is no point to idle in the murk of the middle ground and its helpful obfuscation. To have staying power, people and corporations need to move in a collective direction where words match action.

Sports are the ultimate distraction, and leagues are in the business of making their fans comfortable and happy. It’s why the NFL fought so hard to keep players from following Colin Kaepernick’s lead and kneeling during the anthem, and why the NBA preemptively reminded players of its code of conduct regarding the anthem. However, things like systemic racism and police brutality cannot be ignored or set aside at any time, particularly in a league made up of a Black majority. Money and effort to help activism and the fight for justice off the court is important, but the league knows it has the biggest impact when fans are watching games. Adam Silver recently joined Inside the NBA where he promised that the league would listen and learn. That commitment is the correct tack, but there comes a time when simply being responsive is no longer enough. When millions watch the NBA return in a matter of weeks it will be an unprecedented opportunity for the league to step up and use their greatest platform to further amplify and legitimize — to those who have difficulty reconciling the real world with athletes they already hold in a bubble — the work their players are doing within their communities and the messages they have been shouting alongside thousands in the streets.

There is a growing line of dialogue that says whatever happens this season, and whoever wins the title, it will have been an asterisk season. It will, in effect, not count the same. The NBA’s history of social action is an authentic one, and where it has missed the mark or come a step too late it has most often, where it counts, made up for it. How it chooses to move forward now when that motion seems entirely set will make all the difference on where that asterisk settles, and if it denotes a league identity referred to as before and after with hesitation, or with a pronounced emphasis, a deliberate attention — something that resonates.

It’s been an, uh, eventful couple of weeks for Terry Crews, due to the discussions surrounding the future of wacky cop comedy Brooklyn Nine-Nine and his “Black supremacy” tweet (not to mention his belated apology to Gabrielle Union). “Defeating White supremacy without White people creates Black supremacy. Equality is the truth. Like it or not, we are all in this together,” Crews tweeted on Sunday, causing an immediate backlash. His follow-up comments didn’t help, either. On Monday’s episode of Late Night with Seth Meyers, the John Henry star was asked about his comments. Here’s what he said:

“One of the big things that I tweeted was the fact that I felt, you know, defeating white supremacy without the help of white people could create a black supremacy. Now, the term ‘black supremacy’ was just destroyed. What I was trying to say is that I, as a member of the black community, there have been so-called ‘gatekeepers’ who decide who’s black and who’s not. And in this effort to really push equality and to end white supremacy and systematic racism, there are certain black people who have determined that what I’m doing has no bearing. I have been rendered moot because I am successful. And my point is just the fact that we need all of us.”

He also compared the situation to women’s rights, where “women’s rights without men, nothing changes. If men don’t understand how to treat women, we’re going to have a problem. And it’s the same thing with white people. If white people don’t understand how to treat us as a community, we’re going to have a problem. But, also, in our own community, we have to know how to treat each other. And we have to allow ourselves to agree, to disagree, to have different viewpoints.”

Crews also discussed the future of Brooklyn Nine-Nine, as he recently did with us.

“We actually all got on a Zoom call just the other day because of what’s happening in this country. We were witnessing so many abuses of power. We had some somber talks and some really eye-opening conversation about how to handle this new season.”

You can watch the interview above.