Slave Driver

from the LP Catch A Fire, Island Records, 1973



Looks like another one of the world’s foremost neglectors of human rights, one Zine El Abidine Ben Ali, has been overthrown and sent running following months of unrest in the streets of Tunisia (nah-nah nah nah, hey hey hey, goodbye!), something journalists are already dubbing the Jasmine Revolution, after the country’s official flower; a relatively small nation for the northern African region where it lies, Tunisia (along with Egypt & Turkey) has been at the forefront of progressive Arab nations (see: firmly resisting theocratic rule) since it’s independence in the mid ‘50s, but Ben Ali had done much to dismantle that---not in the direction of religious rule mind you, but in the direction of other nationalistic figureheads (see: Chavez, Castro, Mugabe) who have horrendous human rights records, and habitually refuse to leave until they are forced out. As with all successful revolutions, it creates an instant vacuum of power which can be easily exploited and misused if the reigns fall into the wrong hands, but having an educated population in Tunis who won’t settle down until their desire for true freedom is satisfied, there truly is the potential for real & radical change. Raise a spliff (or a hash pipe, if you’re in Tunisia) to freedom!!

I've Seen That Face Before (Libertango)

from the LP Nightclubbing Island Records, 1981



Only someone as obstinate, adventurous & flat-out narcissistic as Grace Jones could make a song like this both entirely enjoyable and relevant, baring no resemblance to anything else inside the pop cosmos and released at a time when other cresting trends would seemingly make a mash-up of this nature (foreboding tango meets spacey dub) obsolete; and yet, I find myself returning to this track time & time again throughout my journey, it’s filthy feel being a perfect antidote to life’s doldrums. It was flawlessly scored into a number of scenes throughout the Polanski film Frantic, one of my all-time favorite Harrison Ford flicks (you get to see his ass), also featuring the alluringly irresistible Emmanuelle Seigner (see: Satan incarnate in The Ninth Gate). Frankly, if one had only heard this song and had never actually seen Grace Jones in person before, they could be forgiven for presuming she was some delicate petal, as opposed to the fierce genderless warrior-of-an-artist that she is. Maybe that was always Ms. Jones’s magic in the first place, an unpredictable and irrepressible ability to shape-shift at will, and in so doing, destroy everyone’s expectations.

Smoking My Ganja

from the 12” single, Greensleeves Records, 1978



Jeez, is it obvious enough that I don’t have to be teaching for a few weeks (re: sudden onslaught of posting drug-related tracks)?! It’s true, my marijuana consumption increases once the responsibility of standing in front of a classroom every morning wanes, and the ass-groove on our couch downstairs gets a little deeper. This heady anthem begins like many other weed-themed reggae cuts of that time, with the protagonist being chased down by the cops for his love of the sweet leaf, but once you arrive at the chorus things take a turn for the trippy, “…meanwhile I’m smoking my ganja, then I use, LSD…”; it’s no surprise, then, that the band responsible for this song, Capital Letters, hailed not from Jamaica, but instead Wolverhampton, in England. Even being one of John Peel’s most beloved British reggae acts wasn’t enough to garner them with wide-reaching popularity, and they only released a couple of albums before disappearing from sight; however, word is they have recently reformed and are planning to tour (knock on wood).

Give Thanks & Praise

from the LP Why You So Craven, Arrival Records, 1981



I have a lot to be thankful for, particularly my happiness, health & freedom. Funny thing is, there was a time in my life when I used to scowl & complain about those individuals who always seemed to have a smile on their faces, something which I deemed (in my infinite wisdom as a juvenile delinquent…) to be a sign of ignorance and, probably, low IQ; fortunately, I’ve come to understand that those of us who smile a lot aren’t stupid, we’ve just come to realize the power of attitude adjustment. Some family of mine have been suffering through all manners of physical ailments lately, something which is always a sobering reminder of how much we often take our good, or least decent, health for granted---in all honesty, having packed on 40+ lbs in the last year or so, it’s about time to get off my lazy ass and take my physiological well-being more seriously. Maybe most of all I’m thankful for my freedom, knowing sharply and all too painfully what it feels like to have that most basic tenet of human experience taken away: the freedom to go where I please, behave how I choose, say whatever I want…shit, freedom to stumble down to the ‘fridge in the middle of the night, chug some milk, and pad back upstairs to a nice comfortable bed (it’s the simplest of things you miss most when you are locked up). Today, be mindful & thankful of what you’ve got. Eat, drink, puff & be merry!

Dreadlocks Dread

from the LP Dread in A Babylon, TR International Records, 1975



When Jamaican youths started toasting new rhymes over their favorite rock steady & reggae versions in the late ‘60s, you can rest assured that none of them foresaw their skills moving far beyond Kingston’s various neighborhood sound systems, let alone trying to grasp the eventual impact this approach to music would have on the entire world, essentially becoming a large part of the impetus for MCs around NYC to begin rapping atop disco breaks a decade later. Whether or not he was actually the very first individual to ever utter words in a toasty style, there’s no debating that Ewart ‘U-Roy’ Beckford is indeed the man who gets credit for being the primary artist to take it from the streets and into the studio, thus turning ears from far outside the ghetto onto this new approach. This entire LP smokes (…so it’s not just a smart photo on the album cover…), choosing both well-known & obscure cuts to edit, including this chilled out re-dux of the Wailers’ old track “Rebel’s Hop”, which amply displays U-Roy’s method of lyrical attack. The cool thing is that hip-hop itself later went on to mold and guide dancehall into what we hear today, completing the circle that was started down in Jamaica so many decades ago. Word.

Higher Than High

from the LP Fear of a Green Planet, Lion & Roots Records, 1998



Have I mentioned lately my deep love of the hashish…? I know, I know, “how many more times can this dude post about his affection for the full-melt bubble?!” It’s just so extraordinary to me how many different ways you can consume marijuana, and that extra kick to the dome-piece one receives from indulging in hash or kief sometimes swiftly reminds us that, indeed, THC is a drug (it’s easy for a chronic user to forget this). “This one will lift you higher than high…” Along with being a potential advertising campaign slogan for high-grade hash oil, that’s also the promise of producer Adrian Sherwood & his veteran collective Dub Syndicate, who have been melting heady minds since the mid ‘80s with their brand of progressive dub atmospherics; I must say, those solemn violins really do take things to the next level for me.

Run Dem Down

from the LP Firehouse Rock, Greensleeves Records, 1981



The cool breezes of autumn have finally arrived here along the front range, and I couldn’t be happier about it---there’s nothing like having the windows open, A/C off, the crisp mountain air gusting into your soul & lifting your spirit right up high, blazing warm sun providing the climatic balance that’s core to why people love living out here. That’s a flowery way of explaining why roots reggae is currently blasting out of all the speakers in my house---well, that, and a phat spliff which is fast disappearing. Not to be confused with Marley’s former crew or backing band, the Wailing Souls are a surefire Jamaican roots tradition who have supplied the world with their easy-going brand of reggae vibes for five decades now, and though there have been many lineup changes over the years, their sound hasn’t lost any of it’s punch. This LP is probably their best known outside of the island, and for good reason, as they were backed here by the tighter-than-tight Roots Radics (…is there any amazing vocal crew the Radics haven’t played behind at one point or another?!...), and everything got mixed down by dub-wizard Scientist; quite frankly, all of the albums they released between 1975 and 1984 are pretty fucking essential for roots fiends. These cats still tour all over the place, always a good time.

Belittle Me

from the 7” single, Grape Records, 1969



“…the ladder get high, the ladder get high…” Leading, and attempting to encourage, a discussion on race & ethnicity with 18-25 year olds is awfully difficult these days, with them all having been saturated by the credo of political correctness since their inceptions, kids are so afraid of potentially sounding racist that conversation is wholly diminutive & stalled out. The trouble with that lies in the fact that we, as a culture being far more diverse than any other nation on Earth, desperately need healthy and informed exchange on race more than ever. The simplistic notion that electing a black president would somehow catapult society into a post-racial existence was both amateurish & uninformed in scope, because the real latent effect of said presidency has been an uncovering of many Americans’ hidden fears & long-standing prejudices, attitudes that our P.C. culture had disguised as increased tolerance, revealing a sizable fraction of the nation that’s almost every bit as prone to histrionic fallacies of logic when dealing with race-based issues (um, concocting stories about beheaded white people in the Arizonan desert much??!?) as we were 40+ years ago. I never have found any solid information on Carlton Alphonso, other than that he was a rock steady singer from Jamaica in the late ‘60s, releasing this and at least two other singles. I can listen to these early, rough reggae cuts all the day long…

I Love I Bring

from the LP Revolutionary Dream, Tropical Sound Tracs Records, 1976



There truly was a glut of talent around the island of Jamaica in the ‘60s & ‘70s, and due to the principles of supply and demand, that meant many gifted musicans would go largely unnoticed during reggae’s worldwide ascension, only to be sniffed out by roots addicts and fanatics as the years moved along. Excepting for his one hit single, “I Man A Grasshopper”, singer Pablo Moses falls into this category, although he got farther than most by scoring a brief contract with Island Records in the early ‘80s, but he never became the kind of star his talent warranted. This album floats by like pot smoke on a summer breeze, aided greatly by the top production of Geoffrey Chung (who was also rocking that spooky sounding clavinet) and recorded at Lee Perry’s Black Ark Studio, previous to him flipping his shit and burning it to the ground, obviously. RAS-tafari!!

Live Good

from the LP Marcus Garvey, Island Records, 1975



While it’s true that Bob Marley, and to a lesser extent Peter Tosh, were the vehicles through which I became familiar with reggae music, it was the compositions of one Winston ‘Burning Spear’ Rodney that catapulted my interest in roots from that of a casual observer to the lifelong obsession of a passionate acolyte---not to the religion or anything, just the music. If I’m having a rough day or find myself struggling with a shitty attitude, there is scarcely a better remedy to be found than some uplifting roots reggae, because you don’t have to be a Rastafarian to grasp the simple yet vital importance of an idea like, “…try my best to live good, yes yes yes; try my best to do right, yes yes yes...” dig?! The interplay between the horn section & that fluttering flute has such a calming effect on the listener, as does the slow tempo which Rodney is well known for employing, all of the elements encouraging you to take it easy, take the high road, make the effort, but all in due time, no hurry mon. Wishing Sus’ a very happy b-day today, here’s to many more years of living good!

Rudy, A Message to You

from the LP Specials, Two Tone Records, 1979



Getting arrested is no fun when you’re an adult---I suppose most people would argue that it’s never “fun” to get popped, but when you’re a dumb adolescent kid it can be a real rush, particularly given the badge of honor that such events bestow upon one in the eyes of other young delinquents, but you also know it will be erased from your record as soon as you turn eighteen (shit, so many people celebrated their 18^th’s even harder due to the sudden clean slate, and fittingly, most of us had fucked that up within the year…d’oh). I found myself sitting in a downtown Cleveland jail well before my 19^th birthday, on a minor possession charge that would’ve normally been a ticket, but I still had an out of state ID so they threw my ass in jail, on a Friday night no less (double d’oh). It would have been smarter to heed the advice that the Specials were giving rude boys & rude girls in this famous cover track, “…stop your messin’ around, better think of your future; time you straightened right out, creating problems in town…” Although the lesson was duly noted, it took a couple more big fuckups & seven years of ducking the warrants that were trailing me before the lesson was truly learnt. Frankly, tucked away in my nest of a suburban life these days, it all seems so far away. This one goes out to a particular niece & nephew of mine, although I think you’ve both mostly sharpened your games accordingly; sure love you guys!

Johnny Was A Baker

from the CD Best Dressed Chicken in Town, Keyman Records, released: 1987, recorded: 1975



One of the greatest toasters to emerge from Kingston’s vivacious sound-system scene, Winston ‘Dr. Alimantado’ Thompson comfortably strode a moderate and mellow line in his approach to MCing, dialing back the jump-up shouting of someone like U-Roy, but avoiding the monotone dirges of a Prince Far I. Toasting over what sounds like a live remix of Burning Spear’s “Slavery Days” (well, the bassline does anyways…if anyone is aware of this being an actual version, please let me know who it is), the Ital surgeon really smokes here, making this a very worthy bonus cut on an already stellar collection of his mid ‘70s output, re-released here on Thompson’s own Keyman Records; none other than Johnny Rotten himself hyped the Dr. over in England, making him a sure success. With the Jamaican music scene so saturated by clubby neo-dancehall tracks, it’d be a real blessing to see more young bucks trying to bring back this old school vibe, in my opinion anyways.

Harvest Time

from the LP Harvest Time, Negus Roots Records, 1982



Using marijuana cultivation & plant differentiation as an allegory to describe Jah’s selection process in the afterlife was an obvious one, but no less apropos, and singer Don Carlos never sounded better; although he is best known for founding Black Uhuru & then being involved with them again in the ‘90s, Carlos’ work with Uhuru is negligible compared to the vast discography of solo releases he recoded in the interim. Backed by the always dependable rhythm section of Sly & Robbie, this track is a good example of Carlos’ soft, smooth delivery, not afraid to come with a message but careful not to be pushy about it, as his bread & butter was of a much lighter variety (see: songs about girls). To anyone that’s spent time digging deep in the roots reggae well, it quickly becomes clear that there are unfathomable riches to be unearthed there, and this small record label is a treasure trove waiting to be re-discovered. Don’t sleep!

War in the Asteroid Belt

from the LP …Destroys the Invaders, Greensleeves Records, 1982



This last week marked the 30^th anniversary of Pac-Man, the first true amalgamation of pothead fantasy come to life as an exogenous pastime---what better way to identify with stoners than through a video game in which your primary objective is to eat?! Ms. Pac-Man far surpassed her hubby in popularity, which is fitting I suppose; remember those amusing interludes showing how they met and then had Pac-sex, producing little Pac-babies? Living in an age now where video game controllers look similar to a fucking airplane cockpit, I pine for the days when all you had to worry about was a joystick, perhaps one big ass button---hell, I still can’t pull off all the moves in Pro Wrestling using the classic NES ’85 controller! Dub mastermind Lloyd ‘Prince Jammy’ James was clearly hooked on Atari during the production of this space-dub masterpiece; even having been mentored by the master himself, King Tubby, no one could have predicted the monumental amount of influence Jammy would wind up having over the direction of music in Jamaica. Along with producing Black Uhuru’s first album, Jammy went on to produce the first all-computerized dancehall single (Wayne Smith’s “Under Me Sleng Teng”), thus setting the course for all the Sean Paul’s out there today. Grab a phat spliff along with those high-end headphones I know you’re rocking, and come join the fight…

Fly Your Natty Dread

from the LP Wake Up!, Third World Records, 1978



There’s nothing like a little reggae in the morning, especially when it’s snowed overnight, making for quite a scene outside my mid-May window---the trees have their leaves already, so the wet snow is weighing many of the branches down with clumps of soggy fluffernutter; at least the dog loves it. The second major wave of roots reggae included several trios that, presumably, were formatting with the Wailers in mind, and one of the better crews from that paradigm is undoubtedly the Meditations; having been backed by such luminaries as the Roots Radics and Sly & Robbie, this harmonious troupe continues to tour throughout North America today. We caught them at a small joint in the middle of the mountains around here a few years ago, maybe a 100 person capacity space, yet it was one of the headiest reggae shows I’d been to in a while! Gotta dedicate this one to my pops, considering how much he hates my long hair…

Give I Grace

from the LP Unconquered People, Tuff Gong Records, 1979



Sometimes we all get a little hot under the collar, some of us more than others (whoops; but I am just as fast to get over it), and often that rapid-fire release of adrenal rage is nothing more than projection---in that, perhaps we’re more drawn to exogenous examples of our own personal shortcomings, leaving us primed to judge that which we can negatively relate to both quicker & harsher than other things that annoy us. It’s a continual process of refinement, one which I readily admit still escapes me from time to time, but the humility comes faster each & every time you try to get better (even when you screw up for that matter). Izzy Vibe’s prayer here is equally fitting for both planning ahead & post repentance, “…give I grace in the morning, give I grace at noon, give I grace in the evening, and keep my heart in tune…” Amen brothers & sisters!

Cocaine in my Brain

from the LP CB 200, Island Records, 1976



Cooking cocaine down to its base in someone’s kitchen can be a very bonding experience---granted, not one I encourage anyone to indulge in anymore, but there was a time… Before the DEA interdiction efforts successfully shut most of it down, the Caribbean served as the main stopping point for cocaine entering the United States, and this predictably left behind a wake a violence and addiction issues, perhaps most destructively of all in Jamaica; by the late ‘80s, crack cocaine had turned the island into one gigantic gang war, with bloodshed easily rivaling that of any inner-city American ghetto (if not worse). As with everywhere else however, initially coke was seen as “not addictive” (yea right…), or so everyone was told; its use was taken outrageously lightly, without the criminal stigma that other illicit drugs engendered. The rhyme heard in this track, “a knife, a fork, a bottle & a cork, that’s the way we spell New York…” has been traced back to the turn of the 20^th century, and though no one is sure exactly what it means, most speculate that it refers to the gang violence, diverse food, & love of alcohol inherent to the city at that (and all) time(s).

Kathmandu

from the CD Evolution of Dub, Ariwa Records, 1996



“This is not mono, this is not stereo; this is for folks with more than two ears…” Dub music is like being in a blissful trance, and few producers can give their listeners as strange & delightfully bizarre of a voyage than does veteran dub master of ceremonies, Mad Professor; born in Guyana, he moved to London at 13 and began his life in the music world as a service tech, slowly learning the things he needed to fashion the otherworldly vibrations which emanate from his dubwise universe. The sub-bass here is fucking fantastic (free massage anyone?), and it reminds me that the advent of jungle music back in the early ‘90s, and the successive technological advancements in the audio world that brought with it, certainly helped move dub into a deeper level of space as well! Coming to you live from the black hole, yo…