When Matt Jones first stumbled upon a box of dusty archives, he had no idea he was holding a revolution in his hands. The grandson of Regina and Ken Jones-the visionary couple who founded Soul Magazine, the first nationally distributed publication dedicated to Black music, art, and culture-Matt grew up somewhat detached from that legacy. "I was born the year the magazine ended," he tells us. "My grandparents never really talked about it. I didn't understand how important it was until college."
That discovery hit hard. What started as a casual curiosity became a personal mission. And in a time when Black history is being pushed to the margins, Jones decided to drag it back to the center-with style, tech, and reverence.
A Magazine That Mattered
Founded in 1966 in the aftermath of the Watts Rebellion, Soul Magazine was born out of necessity. Black artists were topping charts but barely getting coverage in mainstream media-let alone respect. Soul filled that void with intent, voice, and aesthetic power. It gave people like Stevie Wonder, Aretha Franklin, The Supremes, Curtis Mayfield, and George Clinton not just coverage-but celebration.
"It was our Rolling Stone before Rolling Stone cared about us," Jones says. "They covered the music. They told the truth. They made us visible."
Beyond music, the magazine covered the cultural pulse of Black Los Angeles-photographing protests, documenting local politics, spotlighting changemakers. The layout was stylish. The photography iconic. The storytelling raw and vibrant. It wasn't just a magazine. It was an archive of Black excellence.
From Forgotten to Forever
Fast forward four decades, and Jones is now the guardian of that legacy. It started with scanning a few old issues. Then a few hundred. "I didn't know what I was doing," he admits. "But I knew it had to be done."
Over time, the project grew into a full-blown digital resurrection. Matt has now digitized over 375 issues of Soul Magazine, preserving them in high resolution, complete with original photography, layouts, and articles. He's archived thousands of negatives, preserved artifacts, and built a sleek website offering digital subscriptions and curated collections.
He's even partnered with UCLA's Special Collections library to create a permanent institutional home for the physical archive. "I wanted to make sure it could outlive me," he says.
But make no mistake-this isn't just about preservation. It's about revolution.
"If we don't tell our stories, they disappear," Jones says. "And when our stories disappear, so does our power."
The Future of Soul
Matt isn't just a historian-he's a futurist. Soul Magazine 2.0 isn't just a time capsule. It's a platform. Jones is planning apparel lines inspired by vintage Soul covers. He's producing a documentary about his grandmother, Regina Jones-the first Black woman in America to publish and run a nationally distributed magazine. There's talk of a full-length feature film, a scripted series, and interactive exhibitions.
Every step is driven by a belief in accessibility. "This isn't something that should live in a vault," he says. "It should live in your pocket. On your shirt. In your head." He's already making waves. Celebrities, cultural scholars, and everyday fans are reposting old Soul covers, quoting forgotten articles, and celebrating the revival. What was once hidden in boxes is now trending on timelines.
Culture Under Fire
The stakes have never been higher. With DEI initiatives being rolled back, Black authors banned in schools, and history textbooks stripped of nuance, Jones sees Soul as a form of resistance. "We're living in a time where cultural amnesia is being weaponized," he says. "They want to erase the fact that we shaped this country-not just musically, but politically, spiritually, culturally. Soul proves we were always here. And we've always been brilliant." For Jones, this is personal-but it's also political.
"If you don't know where you come from, it's easier for them to tell you who you are. Soul disrupts that."
A Legacy Reborn
Jones likens his journey to skateboarding pioneer Tony Hawk. "Before him, no one believed a skater could be famous. Once people saw it, they could imagine it. That's what Soul did-it made possibility visible." And now, it's doing it again. In Matt Jones' hands, Soul Magazine is more than an archive. It's a time machine. A protest. A love letter. A blueprint. It's Black history, unbothered by erasure and unafraid of the future.
