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.
from the LP …Destroys the Invaders, Greensleeves Records, 1982
This last week marked the 30th 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…
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…
from the LP Signing Off, Graduate Records, 1980
I know, I know, most of the pop-friendly tunes this band has pumped out over the years are the pure definition of selling-out, but you are just going to have to trust me on this one: if you are a lover of roots reggae music, this entire debut album by UB40 is essential listening, just know it! The band members, all born and raised in Birmingham, England, named themselves after the “dole” papers which some of the guys were busy filling out themselves at the time they came together: Unemployment Benefit, Form 40. Being that this is their first album, the level of musicianship and singing found on every single track here is simply mindblowing; this song was their first single, and what a dubwise masterpiece to lead with! Once you listen to this album in full, their sound’s undoubted influence on later-day superstars like Sublime becomes staggeringly clear.
from the LP Captain Ganja & the Space Patrol, Venture Records, 1980
The deeper one digs, the more insanely whacked out dub records from the late ‘70s and early ‘80s one finds, so I’m going to go out on a limb here and share with you my half-baked theory for why this is the case. Although it’s common knowledge to even the most juvenile of stoner now, the fact that seedless weed has a significantly higher THC content than her knocked up siblings was just being realized in the mid – late ‘70s; frankly, it’s very weird to me that many young potheads today will probably never smoke schwag, but that’s a different discussion. One might presume that Jamaica was ahead of the curb on this one, but you’d be wrong, and as the news leaked out from America to pot scenes around the world, the purposeful cultivation of “sensi” became de rigueur; it just so happens that precisely around that time, the nature of dub music took a severe turn into outer-planetary overdrive, making even the mid-‘70s output of Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry sound tame in comparison. Whatever the source of dub’s transformation, it is cause for celebration my brothers & sisters, so torch a fresh bowl or smoke a fat cone, grab your headphones, and groove to the sounds of Tradition.
from the LP Scientist & Jammy Strike Back, Trojan Records, 1982
Being a session musician is, often times, a rather thankless job: you play your ass off while whomever your backing gets all the acclaim, and it’s a damn shame too, because the Roots Radics Band have been at the center of so many heady musicians’ universes that they deserve to be a household name. Headed by founders Errol ‘Flabba’ Holt (bass) and Eric ‘Bingy Bunny’ Lamont, the Radics have managed to prove adept at every style that emerged from Jamaica, be that backing roots reggae luminaries like Bunny Wailer, providing musical inspiration for that early dancehall sound behind Eek-A-Mouse, or exploring the outer-reaches of dub & getting freaked here by masters like Scientist & Prince Jammy. They can currently be found touring behind Israel Vibration, a gig they’ve held down for over a decade now and, in my humble opinion, a perfect union---I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, if you ever get the chance to see Izzy Vibe, by all means, go!
from the LP I Shall Not Remove, Divine Recordings, released: 2004, recorded: 1976
Cornell Campbell was never known for subtlety, whether he was singing his famed love songs, praising weed (see “100 Pounds of Collie”), or dicing up the latest Rasta gossip; what may sound here like peaceful and mellow neutrality to the casual listener is, in fact, a scathing rebuke of his peer Bob Marley’s increased involvement in the political goings-on of Jamaica when this song was recorded. I have no way of being sure, but I’d be willing to bet that it was written right after the organized attack on the Marley compound before his SMILE Jamaica concerts, which left Marley, Rita and others wounded in the hail of bullets; incidentally, many Rasta’s took Bob’s relatively miraculous escape with his life as a sign of his invincibility---clearly, Mr. Campbell undertook a more skeptical analysis of those events. This song is spilt between the first half, which is straight-up reggae, and the back end that is completely dubbed out, letting the message sink in both directly and more subconsciously.
from the CD 30 Years of Rudeboy Dancehall Dub, Rhino Records, released: 1996; recorded: 197?
Osbourne Ruddock (a.k.a. King Tubby) was one of those guys who heard things---no, not “heard things” like homeboy that’s preachin’ craziness on the corner, but he heard sounds and atmospheric vibrations which pleaded to be put inside reggae music. Rather than being content to spin the same B-sides or “versions” at his soundsystem around Jamaica, a practice which had already won him growing acclaim, Mr. Ruddock (like so many musical geniuses before him) set about creating a studio from scratch in order to produce these sounds and effects; as there was no specific equipment that created the noises he wanted, he tore electronics apart, patching new and old back together again, in the process creating what we today know as “dub” music. Being the true architect, it was fitting to take a name like ‘King’ Tubby, but instead of becoming consumed by ego and pride during his rise to prominence in the 1970s, Tubby became well-known for mentoring numerous kids in the studio, essentially giving now-well-known dub stars like Prince Jammy and Scientist their starts. His brilliance matched with that compassionate and generous vibe is what makes the circumstances of his death all the more frustrating: he was shot and killed outside his home in Jamaica during a botched robbery attempt, coming back from a session at the studio in February of 1989. The reggae world was stunned, having lost Peter Tosh in a similar type of incident only two years prior, and it really highlighted for people the paradoxical nature of that island, so beautiful and yet so dangerous. King Tubby left us all with a gargantuan amount of dub music, releasing an album a year (at the least) throughout his entire career, and with so many tracks still on the shelf in the studio, enough music to continue releasing posthumous records yearly since his passing! This track floats along like pot smoke on the breeze, clean minimal feel, crisp echo and delay, & that phatty-bo-batty bassline riding in the front, Tubby’s spirit abiding in it all…
from the LP Hillside Airstrip, ROIR Records, 2002
A branch of the John Brown’s Body tree, this dub enclave from NYC eschews the more current trends in modern dub, instead embracing the stony vibe of late ‘70s masters like King Tubby and Prince Jammy; although they do employ some fun, spacy electronics in their mixes, the primary focus is always on a solid, roots-based baking track. This song drifts along like smoke atop the water in a bong, zoning from left to right, elevating your buzz in the necessary ways to become a dub kingpin---I wish more heads would take note! Word to the wise, indie stalwarts ROIR Records are always deeply reliable.
from the LP Dub Side of the Moon, Easy Star Records, 2003
The very notion of covering an entire Pink Floyd album sounds outrageous enough, but when I heard that a group of Rastas were going to redo Dark Side of the Moon, I easily cast aside any doubts or predisposed notions, simply knowing they would deliver. Gratefully, my hope-driven instincts were right, and this entire album verges on being indispensable; not along the level of the original, but exceptionally close if you are a fan of both classic rock and reggae music. The first time listening through the whole thing, one can’t help but be eager to hear how they will decipher Floyd’s opus in a ragga-style; this song provided the biggest surprise to me, leaving my visage alight with herb-stained grin from ear to ear. Reinterpreting the original cash registers as flicking lighters, bubbling bongs, and coughing was a work of sheer, stoned brilliance!
from the LP East of the River Nile, Message Records, 1978
The melodica is a children’s instrument, the technological offspring of a tiny keyboard and a saxophone, which produces a sound more reminiscent of the union between an accordion and a harmonica. I remember the one in my pre-kindergarten class being oft-chosen by whatever kid had first pick of toys for the day---thankfully for all the lovers of dub and reggae music out there, Mr. Augustus Pablo never put his down. Eschewing the more common trend within dub to be spacey and effects-laden, the style of dub that Pablo created always comes across as more mature and meditative in nature. He envelops the listener in breezy harmonies, his trusty melodica taking the place of sung vocals and almost coming across like a gentler version of someone whistling or humming a tune. If Tubby was the king of dub, then Augustus Pablo was without doubt the head priest!
from the cassette Bad Brains, ROIR Records, 1982
I know that yesterday’s entry will only appeal, musically, to a small handful…so, I felt it was necessary to give all the uninitiated a taste of the Bad Brains’ other side. Played back to back, you get some indication of how varied their live shows were---raging fast hardcore one second, and stonerific dubby reggae the next. The punk scene in Britain was already well-stewed in reggae music and culture thanks to their massive population of immigrants from the West Indies, and that cross-cultural mix of seemingly dissimilar styles was exactly what compelled the Bad Brains to aim for the top in both disciplines here at home in the USA. The song drifts into existence on a cushion of cymbals and echoed guitar, proclamations of love for Jah. H.R. shows a nice range in singing here (if you only listened to their hardcore tracks you’d never know it), and the easygoing upbeat vibes always put a smile on my face, “…walking down Babylon lane, me trying to live my life in peace, two young men call me not their brother, they try to make I feel ashamed…but I love I Jah, ye-ah, he tells me not to be that way; I love I Jah, ye-ah, I gotta keep my P.M.A…” The acronym ‘PMA’ stands for Positive Mental Atittude, and at the risk of sounding like some corny-ass counselor, I have to admit that their songs have always had the impact of lifting my mood merely by reminding me that the attitude I have walking around this world is entirely up to me. The serene atmosphere continues on, “…my lovely sister, judge me by my clothes, yeah, only to learn of her mistake, not everyone’s alike; we’re not all uptight, ah no fuss no fight…cool that way, let me tell you ‘bout the cool that way…” The band itself is in top form here, easily walking alongside other top-notch reggae and dub productions of the time; the real show-stealer is Darryl Jenifer on the bass, taking joyfully unpredictable turns throughout but never losing the groove. As much as I love hardcore and punk, it was the Bad Brains’ dubwise interludes that provided me the perfect break I needed within all the madness; all of this, while at the same time bulldozing what people thought they knew about black musicians. Talk about ahead of their time!
from the LP Rids the World of the Evil Curse of the Vampires, Greensleeves Records, 1981It’s a motherfucking blizzard up here today, and I’ve always loved the contrast of humid, sun-soaked tunes when played in such weather. The tradition of dropping all/most of the lyrics from an already-created reggae track goes back a long way; the story goes that the crowds which would gather to dance at neighborhood sound systems (kinda like block parties) in the late ‘60s preferred to be able to sing the vocal parts of their favorite tracks themselves, and so it became customary for reggae 45s to have a wordless version, or “dub”, as the B-side to the regular track. This developed into an opportunity for the guys at the soundboards to show off their own abilities, and quickly morphed from merely dropping the vocals & raising the lows to an entire genre of its own---in essence, the world’s first remixers. Scientist, born Overton Brown, learned his craft from the man who many consider to be the ultimate godfather of dub music: King Tubby. Initially, Scientist was just the tech guy around Tubby’s studio, fixing blown speakers and what not; eventually, Tubby challenged a teenaged Scientist to try his hand at the knobs, and the rest is history. Keeping the minimal, bass-heavy style of his teacher, Scientist quickly developed his own distinctive approach to dub which centered on his mesmerizing mastery over echo, delay, and all sorts of outlandish, alien sound-effects. This track begins with an echoed video-game-like blip which shoots the listener into Scientist’s maniacal and tripped-out world, inhabited by vampires, werewolves, and mummy’s; the liner notes menacingly warn the listener that this entire album was mixed down on Friday the 13th. This may seem trivial to most, but on an island that is only surpassed in its superstitious convictions by Haiti, the very mention of that date and number would lead many to be fearful; Bob Marley himself once turned down an opportunity to open for the Grateful Dead due solely to their name! This song and whole album soundly prove that Scientist was not content to merely ape the style of his mentor, but instead was ready to carry the warm glow of dub into a new decade.
from the LP Fear of a Green Planet, Lion & Roots Records, 1998
