Like most of my peers, I discovered reggae music when I heard Eric Clapton,
Johnny Nash, Paul Simon, and other western rockers covering, interpreting,
or espousing this exotic beat. My first reggae album was The
Harder They Come, the soundtrack to the Jimmy Cliff film that inspired
so many rock musicians and critics. The strange, backwards beat; the mysterious,
sometimes indecipherable lyrics; the unfamiliar religious sentiments; and the
revolutionary politics all combined to make reggae a very attractive, though
wholly foreign, experience for me.
After all, I was just a white kid from the 'burbs who collected records. I
grew to love the music, but I didn't even completely understand the cultural
forces behind the beat, let alone accept the philosophy of Rastafarianism and
revolution. True believers would argue this disqualifies me from this discussion.
But, the reggae (and ska and rock steady) that I love comes from the 60's and
70's, and I do understand the feelings of love, longing, and injustice that
permeate that era of Jamaican music.
Many would argue this point, but I believe reggae lost much - and eventually
all - of its inspiration after Bob Marley died. Like Kurt Cobain in alternative
rock, Marley was the culmination of a long of musical journey, the zenith
of a twenty year musical arc, and a lightning rod for the hopes of a generation.
Unlike rock and roll, however, reggae was well-defined, insular genre that,
when pushed too far, fell apart at its conceptual seams.
Simply put, the rise of dancehall and the growing influence of modern pop
(including synthesizers and drum machines) robbed reggae of its soul. Reggae,
after all, grew out of organic American rhythm & blues,
and both genres changed indescribably and irreversibly over the last 20 years.
Without Marley's messianic spirit and fierce musicianship at the vanguard,
the reggae movement splintered into numerous subgenres, each more watered down
than the previous. Like classic jazz and blues,
true reggae music became just another black genre for white people (like me)
to canonize.
All the same, that leaves me with a lot of great platters to spin - from
the Skatalites in the early 60's to Peter Tosh in the 70's to Black Uhuru in
the early 80's. Even more, classic reggae is a genre rife with wonderful one-hit-wonders,
riddems scratched out of desperation and joy by singers obscure at the time
and all-but-forgotten today. Mysterious marvels such as these comprise a Zion
lion's share of my reggae favorites. What are your favorites? Drop me a line...
Randy Anthony
Who feels it, knows
it...
Feedback
Your witty comments, impertinent questions, helpful suggestions, and angry denials
are altogether encouraged. Submit feedback via email;
submissions will be edited and posted at my discretion.