Musical Biscuits

Thursday, March 01, 2007

REGGAE NOTES
Hi, y'all! Sorry to go AWOL, life gets crazy sometimes. But even though I haven’t been writing, I’ve still been listening to lots of biscuits. Lots of new reggae and dancehall, oddly enough. I say “oddly enough” because I tend to be drawn to reggae more in the summer months. But lately I’ve been catching up on all the recent collections like Strictly the Best Vol. 35 & 36, The Biggest Reggae One Drop Anthems, The Biggest Ragga Dancehall Anthems 2006, Reggae Gold 2006, and more.

It definitely seems like reggae has become much more popular in the States over the last few years. I recognize that this goes in phases – five or ten years ago Shaggy made a big splash here and fifteen years ago it was Shabba Ranks. But America's newfound fascination with reggae ever since Sean Paul came on the scene hasn’t really faded. Each year, there seems to be one huge crossover anthem. In 2006, it was Cham’s “Ghetto Story.” The year before that, Damian Marley’s “Welcome to Jamrock.” Nothing quite on that level yet in 07, although Hot 97 is playing the hell out of some unexpected songs like Buju Banton’s “Driver A” and Collie Buddz’ “Herbs Come Around.” Also, Stephen Marley’s “Traffic Jam” – a nice hip-hop influenced beat-box track with brother Damian – is getting a lot of spins. Stephen’s album comes out later this month, and it may well end up being the big reggae CD of the year, like Junior Gong's was in 05.

Maybe my perspective is skewed because hip-hop radio is more open to reggae in NYC than in other parts of the country. But I’ve been here over ten years, and it hasn’t always been this way. In addition to all of the songs above, it’s not uncommon to hear tracks like Richie Spice’s “Youths Dem Cold,” I-Wayne’s “Can’t Satisfy Her,” TOK’s “Footprints,” and more. Of course, most of these are fairly obvious hits, and the regular urban radio rotation barely even scratches the surface of modern reggae and dancehall -- with the exception of shows devoted to Caribbean music, like the ones hosted by Daved Levy or Bobby Konders. Still, it’s nice to get an occasional unexpected reggae fix in the afternoon.

And getting back to all those comps I’ve been listening to, there is definitely lots of good shit coming out of Jamaica (and elsewhere) these days. I love Dave Kelly’s Stage Show riddim, especially Spice & Pincher’s “Rude Boy Love.” I love everything I’ve heard recently from Bitty McLean, especially “Real Thing” and “Baby Tonight,” and apparently he is working on an album with Sly & Robbie due in the Fall.
As you can tell, my tastes tend toward Roots Reggae and Lovers Rock. I don’t really dance, so music that’s made exclusively for the club doesn’t hold much appeal. And I don’t have much tolerance for slack lyrics. But admittedly, I'm not at all imune to the charms of a good weed song, and I highly recommend “Sensi” by Gyptian, “Herbalist” by Alborosie, “Rolling” by Tony Curtis, and above all, “Ganja Farmer” by Marlon Asher, cause the lyrics crack me up…

Big stinkin helicopter flow through di air
what dem call it dem call it weedeater
dem never did there when me wa totin water
or when me did applying fertilizer
yet outta di sky dem spittin fire
and im a little youth man with a hot temper
me dig up me stinkin rocket launcher
and in a di air dispense the helicopter
me ya chant

Speaking of lyrics, another song I encountered in my recent reggae binge was the controversial “Gash Them and Light Them” by Chuck Fender. It’s a hot track, but as soon as I started listening closer, I was like “What the hell is this guy talking about?” It’s not what you think, not one of those awful gay-bashing songs. But it’s pretty weird: it’s an anti-crime, pro-vigilante anthem encouraging people to “gash” (cut, stab) and light (set fire to) those who are destroying the community…

A big man like you rip off a six-year-old baby. A big man like you pop off your gun and put nine 'pon a little old lady. A big man like you burn down a school and a talk 'bout you mad, sick, and crazy . . . Gash dem and light dem for all the negative vibes weh dem a bring. Gash dem and light dem! Mi come fi mash up and wreck up dem senseless killing.

Um, yeah, I’m not sure I follow this logic. He’s against all the senseless killing, but his answer is violent mob justice? I understand the Jamaican police are notoriously corrupt, but I still think this is a highly irresponsible message.

A lot of casual reggae listeners don’t pay much attention to lyrics. And I can understand that – it’s certainly hard for me as an outsider to follow the patois. But I do the best I can, because I’m fascinated by the words, particularly by how Jamaican artists’ lyrical concerns are both incredibly similar to and incredibly different than those of American rappers and R&B singers. To some extent, a love song is a love song, gangster music is gangster music. And, of course, a sizable percentage of reggae songs are actually covers of American hits. But sometimes I’ll hear a reggae tune, and it is virtually impossible for me to imagine a US equivalent.

For example, one of the tracks I’ve been listening to lately, Ras Shiloh’s “This Generation,” can only be described as a stodgy Cosby-esque dismissal of today’s youth. Check out some of the lyrics: Something about this generation, they’re not like us, they love to fuss . . . Something about this generation, their attitude stinks, they won’t get far. The only American song that I can think of that comes close to expressing this old-fart sentiment so unapologetically is the Beach Boys’ Pet Sounds cut, “I Just Wasn’t Made for These Times.”

What a strange song, eh? That’s what I love about reggae: While the standard criticism is that it all sounds alike, there's really a remarkable variety and a lot of appealing weirdness under the surface. It definitely feels good to be so engaged with this music again. And I hope to put up many more posts like this in upcoming months. The title of this blog, “Musical Biscuits,” is drawn from a Harder They Come reference, after all. And there are lots of exciting reggae releases this season to talk about: Turbulence’s Do Good, Anthony B’s Higher Meditation, Richie Spice’s In the Streets of Africa, Da’Ville’s On My Mind, Sizzla’s Children of Jah, and more.

Ps: Also worth checking out: Radiohead guitarist Johnny Greenwood’s collection of his fave reggae tunes from the Trojan vaults, Johnny Greenwood Is The Controller.