Frankie Paul

Growing up and falling in love with reggae in the eighties, I couldn’t help the faint feeling that I’d missed out on the golden era. Of course I loved the likes of Dennis and Gregory who were still making great music, but the heyday of some of these giants was behind them. The temptation was to spend all my time and money digging out the classics to educate myself in the foundations of reggae. But then again I knew there was a huge amount of amazing fresh music all around me, but it somehow lacked an individual personality to get a hold on. Then I gradually became aware of Jamaica’s Stevie Wonder, Frankie ‘Dancehall’ Paul, and I came to appreciate one of the true superstars of the eighties. Even then it took me a while to get him. Listening to Tony Williams run down the reggae charts, there would often be three or four FP singles in the top 20 at any one time. Which one to buy with my pocket money? Maybe I should get an album, but wait, he’s got three albums out this year, all with two or three standout tracks. And ‘Alesha’ is on the same riddim as Half Pint’s ‘Greetings’, which one do I buy? Do I need to buy Sarah, when it’s been at number one in the reggae charts for 13 weeks and on radio all the time? Now I realise how lucky we were, spoilt for choice and I should have got a Saturday job to fund my trips to Dub Vendor. Back then with my adolescent preoccupation with originality, I would have a slight feeling of disappointment when I discovered some of his songs were covers and all the others were written by this P. Blake guy! I eventually cottoned on this was the real name of the man himself, and found out he was a hugely talented multi-instrumentalist and songwriter, penning stone cold classics like ‘Worries In The Dance’, ‘Shub In’ and ‘I Know The Score’. Even his cover versions were often unrecognisable from the originals, as he added so much of himself and I came to look forward to his take on a soul hit, like ‘Casanova’. His peerless selection of tunes came from a unexpected variety of sources, some of them untraceable to me in the pre-internet days, (just listened to the original of ‘So Soon We Change’ for the first time and I definitely still prefer Frankie’s version), and was a reflection of his wide knowledge of music and unstoppable love of singing, and an essential ingredient to his prolific role in the reggae industry of the time. He had an amazing range, was well known for love songs, which were perfect for a teenager in love like me, featuring on every mixtape I ever gave to a girl. But he also had a gift for social comment that conjured up the trials and tribulations of everyday life in Kingston in ‘Tidal Wave’ and ‘Fire De A Mus Mus Tail’, as well as a spiritual side with songs like ‘Songs of Freedom’ and ‘Never Give Up’. Seeing him in concert he was like a human jukebox, and in interviews, jingles and spoken intros to records we got to know his range of mimicry and impressions, zooming around like a radio dial. It was impossible to keep up with him, as he continued making records into the nineties, noughties and 2010s, even as his health began to deteriorate. Even now, I listen to the tribute shows on mixcloud and 1xtra I discover classics that are brand new to me, while nearly all the others are cherished favourites from my collection, thanks to Daddy Ernie and David Rodigan for introducing me to them back in the day. We’ll miss him, but Frankie left us with a musical legacy music that will never run dry. Rest in Peace. One love.

For a fictional take on growing up reggae, check out Black King.

Protoje

Protoje, Sevana and the Indiggnation Band, Glasgow 02 ABC, 7 May 2017

Being an old-time veteran, I like to think Protoje is quite new on the reggae scene, as he still sounds so fresh and original, generally rejecting recycled rhythms and covers, blending influences from hip-hop and dancehall with the real instruments and talented musicians of the Indiggnation band to create a powerful new conduit for his smart, riddle-full lyrics, putting him at the forefront of the roots revival. But he’s been working at this a long time, as you can tell from his carefully crafted and developed sound. It’s nearly seven years since he started to scratch the surface of success and began this reggae affair with new audiences all over the world, and even made it to Glasgow already in October 2015. So there’s no excuse not to be up to speed with his message by now, and clearly he made a big impression on the reggae connoisseurs of Scotland last time, as the 02 ABC was packed with an eager and expectant crowd.  Protoje’s protégé, Sevana, took the stage bright and early (about a quarter past eight, so don’t be late) to showcase her EP, with songs like ‘Easy To Breathe’, ‘Carry You’ and ‘Chant It’ demonstrating her soulful voice and extra classic lovers style.

After a short break, Protoje took centrestage, his easy-going, laid back presence belying the anger and militancy of his lyrics as he hits us with tunes like 'Criminal' and 'Blood Money'. Flanked by two powerful female voices, keyboards and some rocking guitars, as well as a driving drum and bass, he gets the crowd singing Kymani Marley’s part on ‘Rasta Love’ and the vibe is reminiscent of the latter’s old man. He’s a versatile performer, launching into high-energy steppers, sharing the spotlight with the band and when joined on stage by another amazing prospect Lila Iké, with her own ‘Biggest Fan’ she also features on ‘Flight Plans’ from the ‘Royalty Free’ download last year. A couple more tunes from this selection reveal more of a softer, lovers rock side that emerged spending a few months last summer in the UK, as he tells us. Protoje’s music encompasses the whole smorgasbord of reggae, and while most of his tunes are his own compositions, he also pays tribute to his inspirations, from the bouncing ska of ‘Answer to Your Name’ to a taste of dancehall with some live sampling of Buju’s ‘Champion’ with a heavy dose of eighties influences from Black Uhuru’s ‘Shine Eye Gal’ and a sprinkling of ‘Exodus’. He steps up the pace with a little more help from Sevana and the guitarist taking Jesse Royal’s part for ‘Sudden Flight’ and keeps the crowd bubbling to ‘Bubblin’ and more. He can’t leave out the modern anthem, ‘Who Knows’, which is the first reggae record in years that I’ve heard blasting out of passing cars, in the barbers, shops and at suburban parties, in Glasgow.  Leaving us with another classic, ‘Kingston Be Wise’, after the best part of two hours on stage, he’s already got a substantial body of work to choose from, with three full studio albums and a couple of mixtapes/downloads, but still left the crowd eagerly waiting for more. If you look at the artists he has collaborated with, it reads like a who’s who of the recent roots reggae revival in Jamaica and globally: Chronixx, Jah9, Jesse Royal, Alborosie, Gentleman, which makes you realise reggae’s future is in safe hands, and is also a big chunk of the line-up for this summer’s festivals like California Roots, Summerjam Germany and Boomtown England. So if you missed Protoje on this tour, don’t miss your next chance. One love!

David Rodigan

Book Review: My Life in Reggae

I feel like David Rodigan is an old friend or part of the family, after all, I’ve invited him into my house almost every week for about the last thirty years. It’s always a pleasure to listen to his voice and impeccable taste in reggae, but like a favourite uncle, I must have heard all his anecdotes a hundred times already, do I really need to read his book? Well, the answer is emphatically yes, as the story of his life is also a history of reggae, and there’s a lot more in ‘My Life in Reggae’ than he divulges on air. Not least the revelation that with a mother from Maryhill and a father from Kirkcaldy, Scotland can at last rightfully lay claim to several world cups (of the sound clash variety). And how else would you be able to chart his career as an actor, featuring in episodes of Doctor Who and Sherlock Holmes? His drama grounding is undoubtedly a factor in his success as a DJ, from the way he projects his voice and maintains the entertainment value of performance in every show, to even going as far as using fancy dress at sound clash. When I first discovered his show on Capital in about 1986, he was one of many reggae voices on the FM dial, alongside his old sparring partner Tony Williams on Radio London, the Ranking Miss P on Radio One, Daddy Ernie on LWR/Choice and a plethora of pirate DJs. Over the years, reggae was marginalised to the wee small hours, overtaken by new forms, or found an outlet on internet radio, (you can still find some of those names on Vibes FM). This book explains how Rodigan clung on, taking some chances and risks, not least to his health, and eventually finds himself appreciated by audiences as diverse as Jamaican soundclash crowds, German teenagers tuning into his armed forces show, and a new dubstep generation.


Each chapter briefly sets out a stage in the development of reggae, from ska to new roots, juxtaposed with a period in Rodigan’s life, as he goes from schoolboy watching Millie on Top of the Pops, to radio institution, dancehall daddy and festival regular. A lot of us reggae fans may admit to a twinge of envy when hearing about Rodigan’s frequent trips to Jamaica, his reminiscences of meeting just about every singer, artist and producer ever, and the welcome greetings he receives in dancehalls from Brooklyn to Tokyo. But none of this came easy, and those looking for some mysterious secret to his success will be disappointed. What comes through in the book is that he’s first and foremost a fan, but also a dedicated student of reggae, and always humble and respectful in the presence of those who make it. He never forgets that reggae has its roots in Africa, surviving through slavery and colonialism, to become a major force for equality, love and unity in the world. He touches on subjects he does not mention on radio, from his brush with a sinister group called the ‘Black Music Protection Squad’ in the eighties, to when a soundclash rival in desperation drew the race card, and what he thinks about the murder-inciting homophobia that stained the music in the nineties. Written in an easy-going style, reading the book you can hear his unmistakeable voice, like spending a few hours in conversation with him, and is best done with one hand in your record collection (OK, or Spotify or whatever), so that you can line up a particular track whenever he mentions one, and share in his unwavering enthusiasm and passion for this music. Rodigan opened the door for many reggae fans, and there’s plenty of room inside - so get yourself along to hear some more at the Art School on 25.03.17 and keep on coming through the door!

‘My Life in Reggae’ by David Rodigan with Ian Burrell , available from Dub Vendor, Hive and all good bookshops, Number 1 pon the Amazon Musician Biographies chart

If you like this, you might like Black King and To Jamaica With Love.

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Marlon James

Book Review: A Brief History of Seven Killings

I like to think that genre-defining classic ‘Black King’ started the phenomenon of reggae-flavoured fiction, but this is a seriously heavy novel, in a league of its own. Don’t be misled by the title, as at 686 pages it is not at all brief, and a whole heap more than seven people get killed. It does not claim to be a true history of the background and aftermath of the attempt on Bob Marley’s life in 1976, but as in the foreword, ‘if it no go so, it go near so’. Flowing through the rivers of consciousness of a myriad cast of characters, many closely resembling notorious figures in this bloody chapter of Jamaican history, (but not the bloodiest by a long way) you are sent spinning through the gullies of the ghettoes of Kingston in the seventies, and spilling over into the crack dens of New York in the eighties. If you’re not familiar with the events this may leave you bewildered but reggae lovers schooled by countless cryptic references in lyrics and having seen films like Better Mus Come (and having recently read ‘Stir it Up’, which covers similar ground), will be able to find their way. Amongst all the shootings, stabbings and beatings, there is some great wordage here, of a particular place and time; ‘hataclaps’ being one of my personal favourites, and pretty much summing up the whole situation. Definitely not approved by the Jamaican Tourist Board, the island seen through the eyes of the people caught up in this hair-trigger booby-trapped world is unremittingly bleak, but the narrative digs deeper than the media stereotypes, getting under the skin of gangsters, innocent bystanders, CIA operatives, journalists and ghosts. It also does not shy away from breaking taboos and de-glamorising the ‘Yardie’ image, including the revelation, as a cross between Quentin Crisp and Ali G might say, that a lot of the worst rudeboys is well batty. Is it all just reality, or is it some form of ghetto-porn? How the hell would I know, but I know it is a totally compelling read. Get it now, don't wait for the paperback, life's too short, and you can always use it to whack someone over the head with - in self-defence, of course. One love.

Johnny Clarke

Rum Shack, Glasgow 1st April 2016

Johnny Clarke is another of those reggae legends held in high esteem by true aficionados but somewhat neglected by Johnny-come-latelys like myself. Voted Jamaican singer of the year in 1975 and 1976, the golden years of reggae music as the man himself put it, when to be honest I was mostly listening to The Wombles. He wasn’t even my favourite reggae Johnny, to be frank that was Mr Osborne, but after Friday night at the Rum Shack I now realise what all the fuss is about and I am going to have to familiarise myself with his extensive back catalogue. Once again, the size of the crowd packing out the Rum Shack was evidence of the extent of his popularity and how fondly he is remembered by the Glasgow roots massive. Bass Warrior laid the foundations and then proceeded to make them tremble with mighty basslines, throwing down riddims from King Tubby, Bunny Lee and the like, which have become so inextricably linked with the voice of Johnny Clarke drifting in and out of the dub. He took the microphone and began to reel off hit after hit, mixing up his versions of anthems such as the Abyssinians’ ‘Declaration of Rights’ with his own equally revered compositions, ‘King of the Arena’, ‘Enter Into His Gates’, ‘Roots Natty Congo’ and many more. These were now beginning to ring bells as I realise I have heard a lot more Johnny Clarke than I thought, as no roots reggae compilation from the golden era is complete without his contribution, many have been revisited by other reggae artists. Some of his songs have become more famous in their often uncredited dub incarnations, featuring snatches of his vocals drifting into my consciousness. His voice is still smooth in a lilting youthful tone, and his style laid-back, peppering his songs with casual conversation for the audience, reminding us of his deeply held Rastafari faith. He revealed his African roots, letting fly his floor-sweeping dreadlocks, and gave us more of his classics, such as ‘None Shall Escape the Judgement’, ‘Every Knee Shall Bow’ and ‘Move Out of Babylon’. A brief break was followed by the rousing ‘Rock With Me’ which cannot fail to get everyone dancing. I love the Nerious Joseph/Winsome version as it lends itself well to the duet but Johnny’s version made me search out who did the original and it was Delano Stewart which is an absolute rock steady belter I can’t believe I didn’t know it. That’s it I am going back to reggae school, starting on Monday with Johnny Clarke’s discography. One love!

Bob Andy

The Garage, London 25th April 2016

Springtime in the capital only means one thing – the London International Ska Festival; a celebration of the music that has flowed for six decades from this fountain of everlasting talent, its many tributaries and the various streams it has created all over the world. And who better to headline Day Two this year than Bob Andy, a man who has stood firm for over fifty years, refusing to bend or bow in the face of changing winds, staying true to his masterful blend of love songs and conscious messages, maintaining the highest quality output of albums while supporting and inspiring countless other artists www.bobandy.com . Originally due to attend five years ago, but unable to perform due to illness, it was an absolute joy to see his name on the bill again. I had originally bought a ticket to see Johnny Osborne, and must admit I was disappointed to hear he had pulled out, but the news that was he was to be replaced by Bob Andy was honestly even better. Massive thanks to Sean Flowerdew and all the crew who have made this happen for the past 28 years, bringing together the whole spectrum of ska stars, struggling against the obstacles posed by the inevitable passage of time and Home Office visa problems on the original Jamaican generation. Pork-pie hats off to Peter O’Toole as well this year for giving us the best T-shirts/posters ever http://www.londoninternationalskafestival.co.uk/... Friday night comprised the original Skatalites-style sound of The Indecision, followed by the The Defektors, who took us to the punky, dubby side of skatown. Then came Pama International, featuring Sean himself on keyboards and a new line-up harnessing the spirit and sound of the sixties girl groups to ska interpretations of reggae and soul classics such as ‘Man Next Door’ and ‘Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow’. All the while, the Tighten Up Crew kept the pace going during the quick changeover between bands, playing favourites from Alton Ellis, Ken Boothe and many more as the Garage filled up with anticipation. I don’t know how long this band have been working with Bob Andy, but as soon as they took the stage it was clear they had the talent and dedication required to support one of the undisputed champions of Jamaican music, running through classic Studio One instrumental ‘Swing Easy’ with aplomb.

Bob himself was introduced to a rapturous welcome, only in England for a few days and apparently feeling the cold but warmed to the bones by the enthusiastic crowd. Resplendent in white and gold African dashiki, he was soon persuaded to take off his beanie hat and let his still impressive silver dreadlocks fly free. ‘My Time’ is something of a signature tune, and sounded perfect as ever, even though he said he only got the strength to keep on performing from the love of the audience. ‘Sun Shines For Me’ is another beautiful anthem that cannot fail to get everyone smiling and singing along. Bob introduced some of his most early work with a wry smile, such as ‘Crime Don’t Pay’ a message to the rudies of Kingston, but acknowledged time has told him it probably does after all. These songs recorded for Coxsone in the late sixties, collected on the Song Book, remain as fresh as ever. ‘Unchained’ is a roots classic far ahead of its time, covered by so many and with a powerful riddim re-used by Garnett Silk and many more. He went on to perform for the first time some of the hits he has written for fellow legends, ‘I’m Gonna Tell You Goodbye Babe’ (Ken Boothe) and ‘Impossible’ (Delroy Wilson) which was a continuing education in reggae music for me. The lyrical masterpieces of ‘You Don’t Know’ and ‘Life’ still get your brain working as well as moving your feet. Of course, this of all shows had to include ‘Too Experienced’, a great favourite of the Two Tone era from the Bodysnatchers sassy version, here restored to its original heartfelt pain with delicate flute and muted trumpet accompaniment. ‘I’m Going Home’ still made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, with its echoing harmonies, originally of course provided by Marley, Tosh and Livingstone, which according to legend, made Bob Andy himself think it was a Wailers tune when Coxsone first dropped it in a dance. It remains my favourite tune and inspired the penultimate chapter in my humble account of where an obsession with reggae can lead you, ‘Black King’ – the novel. Sadly there was not enough time for some of Bob’s more recent songs which stand up well to the classics, such as ‘Love Is Sure’ and ‘Send Someone To Meet Me (I’m Coming Home)’. He was persuaded to come back on stage with another Africa-tinged paean to exile and return, ‘ I’ve Got to Go Back Home’ and with that we wished him well and hope he comes back soon as he will always have a home in our hearts. One Love!

Little Roy

Rum Shack Glasgow 22 January 2016

As a long-standing member of the Scottish Benevolent Society for Veteran Jamaican Artists and Musicians, I am always happy to show my appreciation for reggae artists whenever they are in the vicinity. So when I heard Little Roy was coming to ton, the man who gave us the classic anthem‘Tribal War’, which so encapsulated the situation in Jamaica in 1975, and still relevant all over the word today (although I must admit it only came to my attention from the Buju Banton version in 1993) and the number two all-time greatest reggae song about Christopher Columbus, I did not hesitate to get myself a ticket, But I was a bit worried the turn-out might be a little thin for a man described by i-Tunes as ‘little known outside reggae’s deep roots circles’, especially on a cold dark January night before payday. So when I noticed more cars than usual parked in the surrounding streets, roadblocks, sirens, helicopters in the air, people milling about and spilling out onto the Pollokshaws Road, I thought to myself “Hullo, wha’gwan on here then?” The promoters had obviously done a very good job.

The Rum Shack was jam-packed, Bass Warrior sound was in full session with Earl ‘Yeah-Yeah’ Gateshead special guest selector throwing down some righteous classics for an eager crowd, skanking and buzzing with excitement. I had to reconsider my position as Glasgow’s resident reggae reviewer and novelist, as not for the first time my ignorance of the extent of the knowledge and appeal of reggae amongst the musical connoisseurs of this city left me gobsmacked. He took the stage to a great reception, and started with the evergreen Stevie Wonder classic, ‘Yesterme, Yesteryou Yesterday’ also done famously in reggae by the late great John Holt, but my research tells me done first by Little Roy. He warmed up, took off his coat and stepped up the pace, launching into solid roots anthem ‘Prophecy’ which I had no idea was one of his, having been familiar with the Freddie McGregor version from the eighties, and the aforementioned classics. He also gave us ‘Children Children’ and ‘Right Now’ from his current EP (available on Amazon, i-Tunes etc) which showed he has not lost his talents for song writing and topical conscious lyrics that perfectly match his plaintive, slightly husky voice. Then he asked if there any fans of Nirvana in the place, and everything went mad. So that Battle for Seattle album was quite popular then? I’m not too familiar with his versions or the originals, but it seems obvious this was so much more than a novelty gimmick; he has crafted an enduring powerful interpretation of the songs that people love in their own right, blending genres and bringing reggae to a wider audience. Respect to everyone who turned out and made Little Roy so welcome, you’re in deep; membership cards are in the post. One love!