Sunday 14 October 2018

Book Review: The Life of Peter Tosh by John Masouri


I was fifteen when Peter Tosh was murdered. I was just getting into reggae and aware of him as one of the original Wailers, but when I tuned into Radio London for the traditional Sunday lunchtime lovers rock show, and heard the infectious ska sounds of  ‘Hoot Nanny Hoot’ instead, it sounded totally fresh and exciting, with the young lead vocal expressing a playful wisdom . As it was followed by tunes like ‘The Toughest’, ‘Downpresser Man’ and ‘Bush Doctor’, I was hit by a strange mixture of excitement at discovering all these classics for the first time, and the dawning realisation that I was a bit too late, and something was tragically wrong in the reggae world. The normally rich, authoritative voice of radio legend Tony Williams was choking up as he broke the news that Peter Tosh had been fatally shot at his home in Jamaica, age 42.
So I must admit it took me a while to open up this weighty tome, as even though it was over thirty years ago, it still feels like his sudden, brutal death is a shadow hanging over his story. But long time reggae journalist, John Masouri, has done a miraculous job of bringing Peter Tosh back to life, restoring the complex and often conflicting sides to his character through meticulous research into his childhood, detailed documentation of every tour and album, and interviews with long lost relations, friends and enemies. Through the cloud of ganja smoke and verbal obfuscation that surrounded him, a picture begins to emerge of the militant rebel whose intelligence, wit and desire to get his message across led him to international fame. Sometimes his own worst enemy, he would simultaneously attract and repel success, with his words and actions damaging his career and personal relationships. Masouri never lets us forget the effects of the car crash that killed his girlfriend, leaving him grief-stricken and guilt-ridden, and the numerous police beatings he suffered, causing permanent pain and headaches. All this at the time when reggae was king, and Peter Tosh shared the stage with the likes of Dennis Brown and Gregory Isaacs, in regular line-ups at huge concerts all over the world. A serious time, when apartheid South Africa was a seemingly unshakable reality and the struggle for equal rights and justice was not just a song.
Reading this biography is like an interactive experience, as when you read about the concert in Montreux in 1979, lauded as one of his best, or the time he made a cameo in a Brazilian soap opera, you can witness them for yourself in few clicks. It’s fascinating to read how Peter Tosh was often vilified by the British music press, being accused of selling out or watering down his message and music (they obviously had not listened to him saying “I’m not in this world to live up to your expectations” on ‘I Am That I Am’) while being hailed in the streets as a hero in black communities across America, England, Africa and the Caribbean. ‘The Life of Peter Tosh’ is an important work and a vital piece of reggae history, taking its place alongside the numerous biographies of Bob. It leaves you with a greater understanding of the man, an overdue celebration of his achievements, but nothing can quite shift the sense of regret and frustration and injustice that limited his output, and ultimately his life.
The Life of Peter Tosh by John Masouri 

Sunday 9 September 2018

Book Review: The Life and Rhymes of Benjamin Zephaniah


The Life and Rhymes of Benjamin Zephaniah
Benjamin Zephaniah, honorary university doctor, primetime television actor, established children’s author, Question Time regular, he almost seems like part of the furniture these days (so much so that in 2008 someone thought he might like to be rewarded with an OBE, forgetting that all his life he has hated and rebelled against the idea of Empire and the establishment). But he’s more likely to take all the furniture out of your house and pile it up in the street to protest about something, and then come round the next day and create some new furniture for you with his bare hands. This autobiography starts off like a Dickensian picaresque, as Benjamin runs around the streets of 1960s Birmingham in what seems like a different world. Growing up dealing with racism, domestic violence and poverty, Benjamin finds poetry, music and friendship to sustain him. The first third of the book has a gripping, confessional tone, and it’s clear there are things he has never really spoken about before and finds difficult to re-live, and you find yourself involved and caring about what happens to our hero and his mother. The frank revelations of fighting, borstal and a beckoning life of crime culminate in a sliding doors moment, when he could have ended up in prison or dead, but instead went to London and listened to the voice of the child inside him who always wanted to be a poet. As the sound system roots scene collides with punk and Two Tone explodes around him, he carves out a niche for himself on the alternative music and comedy circuit in the early eighties. It’s a vivid reminder of life in Thatcher’s Britain, as he tirelessly provides a poetical soundtrack to every demonstration from Rock Against Racism to the miners’ strike, anti-apartheid, Palestine, East Timor and the Chagos Islands. The power of his words and his commitment to various causes finds him gaining recognition nationally and internationally, as he makes an impact in the former Yugoslavia and becomes a regular visitor to China. He sees no boundaries, and makes connections with people wherever he goes, always discovering something new musically or delving into Tai Chi, acting or organic gardening.  Reading this section of the book feels like spending a few hours in the company of Benjamin Zephaniah, but his easy-going style of writing belies the fact that he is constantly challenging you to look at the world around you and think or do something different. There’s a lot to celebrate in his life, and the world has changed massively since the eighties, but he is far from complacent, and his passion for revolutionary thinking is undimmed as he keeps working on new material and touring to new audiences. One thing that really shocked me is he says “if there were another Brexit-type vote held in Britain, that asked, ‘Should black people be in this country or not?’ I think we’d be out.” This is a chilling thought and felt at odds with some of his experiences in the book, where he personally has played such a huge part in overcoming racism and changing attitudes. But thinking back to the description of his formative years, when prejudice was so entrenched in Britain, made me wonder where those racists have gone, have they changed or had they just gone quiet, only to pop up spouting their bile now on social media. Looking at how the Government got away with the Windrush ‘hostile environment’ scandal for so long, I wondered if he might be right. He often is, so we should keep listening to him, and do something about it. One love. 

Book review: So Much Things To Say

So Much Things To Say – The Oral History of Bob Marley – Roger Steffens
Let’s face it, there have been quite a few books written about Bob Marley over the years, but this outstanding read is an essential for all real fans, a unique collection of recollections from the people who actually knew him, reconstructing a multi-dimensional view of the sanctified singer. Professor of reggae history, Roger Steffens, has meticulously pieced together interviews from his own personal archive and contemporary publications, weaving them into chronological order, covering the whole of Bob’s life. You get an amazing insight into Kingston circa 1962, as the young Wailers got together during a time when the first steps of independence were an irrepressible, energetic dance to the new ska beat sweeping the island. This period may be easy to romanticise (see To Jamaica with Love) but any fuzzy nostalgia is contrasted with reminiscences of the reality of day to day poverty and violence, including being bottled off stage in one incident. The voices of almost-forgotten members of the early incarnations of the loosely affiliated group are tracked down and restored, including Beverly Kelso, Cherry Green, Junior Braithwaite and Dream ‘Vision’ Walker, which makes you want to go back to your Studio One collections and listen out for their contributions. The sheer volume of work produced in this early period makes you realise no matter how many reissued CDs you have, you still don’t have the complete Wailers recordings. As the Wailers become a distinct trio, and a force to be reckoned with, their path to international success is long and rocky, as the vivid memories of Bunny Wailer and Rita Marley testify. The Jamaican music scene of the era is brought to life with contributions from Alton Ellis, Bob Andy, Marcia Griffiths and many more, at once fiercely competitive and mutually supportive, in some ways chaotic but also a hugely productive industry. It makes you appreciate the ten years that the Wailers were together defined them, and in Bob’s case, lasted longer than his solo career. It left them with such a rich back catalogue of songs they all continued to draw on them throughout their subsequent individual journeys. Claims, counter-claims, love affairs, financial mis-dealings and disputed song-writing credits compete for attention as Bob’s life gets more complicated and his star begins to rise. The rival revelations and building pressures on the group are recanted in some cases as still bitter and raw, making it seem inevitable that they had to go their separate ways. At times you feel like you are in the middle of a conversation featuring the living and dead, as Peter Tosh, Cindy Breakspeare, Coxsone Dodd and Chris Blackwell exchange views on the man behind the legend. Even though we all know how it is going to end, the detailed deconstruction of each Bob Marley album and tour by the musicians involved is compulsive reading, juxtaposed with memories from those closest to him of his increasingly painful personal life. The attempt on his life is explored from every angle, suspicion and conspiracy theory. The cancer diagnosis, prognosis, treatment, or lack of it, is recalled in layers of confusion and regret. Bob’s Rastafari faith as his driving force and his future plans for working in Africa are revealed, making us realise his work was far from over. You’re left feeling closer to Bob than ever, and wanting to listen to his music all over again, but no closer to knowing how much of his gift was down to his own individual, magical genius, or the collective product of a wellspring of creativity in a unique culture, time and place. Thanks to Roger Steffens’ ‘So Much Things To Say’, we’ll never forget, no way, the people who made his story history. One love.