Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Boston Reggae Scene Active in August

http://www.boston.com/news/globe/living/articles/2006/08/18/lively_up_yourself?mode=PF

Lively up yourself

Cool vibes, roots rhythms, and rough-and-tumble dancehall make up a sun-splashed month of reggae

Jah be praised! Three humongous reggae concerts are coming to Boston in a two-week span, bringing Irie vibes and syncopated riddims to dispel the late-summer melancholy. Better yet, the de facto festival at the Bank of America Pavilion doubles as a crash course on the state of reggae today, featuring revered veteran bands from Jamaica and Britain (tomorrow), members and associates of the Marley family (Thursday), and a grouping of roots and dancehall old heads and young guns (Aug. 31).

UB40

Better known, unjustly, for its mass-appeal pop period than its musically adventurous, politically incisive early work, the seminal Birmingham, England, combo is back with ‘‘Who You Fighting For?,’’ an elegant new album that successfully draws on both.

TOOTS & THE MAYTALS

It doesn’t get more crucial than this Kingston crew, whose ‘‘Do the Reggay’’ introduced the word in 1968. From classics like ‘‘Pressure Drop’’ to pairings with Keith Richards or Bonnie Raitt, Toots Hibbert might be the hardest-working man in the reggae business.

BUNNY WAILER

One of the original Wailers alongside Bob Marley and Peter Tosh, Bunny Livingston remained for years in Jamaica before finally blossoming in the 1990s on the world stage. Though open to dancehall, he’s really one of the keepers of the roots-reggae flame.

STEPHEN MARLEY

Though his long-awaited solo album has yet to drop — it’s expected later this year — Bob Marley’s son Stephen is no underachiever: a longtime member of brother Ziggy’s Melody Makers, he may have the sweetest voice of all the master’s progeny.

ASSASSIN

Hailed as the next big thing in dancehall, Assassin comes rough, rugged, and raw with his debut release, ‘‘Infiltration.’’ The frenzied pace, tongue-twisting delivery, and thumping bass come standard; the poise and relatively respectful lyrics are pleasant extras.

CAPLETON

Like bill-mate Buju Banton, the immensely popular Capleton has moved from aggressive dancehall to a more spiritual roots sound as Rastafarianism has played a larger part in his life. He’s still a top-rate verbal acrobat and a fiery stage performer.

Reggae Sunsplash
With UB40, Maxi Priest, Third World, Toots & the Maytals, and Rik Rok
At: Bank of America Pavilion, Saturday at 5:30 p.m., $35

Roots Rock Reggae Festival
With Ziggy Marley, Stephen Marley, Bunny Wailer, Ozomatli , and Jon Nicholson
At: Bank of America Pavilion, Thursday at 6 p.m., $35

One Love Festival
With Buju Banton, Elan & The Live Wyya Band, Capleton, Gregory Isaacs, Cocoa Tea, Assassin
At: Bank of America Pavilion, Thursday, Aug. 31, 2006 at 7 p.m., $35

Package tickets for two shows ($60) or three shows ($75) are available from the Bank of America Pavilion box office, 290 Northern Ave. Information: www.livenation.com.

© Copyright 2006 The New York Times Company

Monday, August 21, 2006

Book: Before the Legend: The Rise of Bob Marley

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/08/17/AR2006081701003.html

Redemption Song

The early years of a reggae superstar who gained worldwide renown.

Reviewed by Miles Marshall Lewis
Sunday, August 20, 2006; BW08

BEFORE THE LEGEND

The Rise of Bob Marley

By Christopher John Farley

Amistad. 216 pp. $21.95

In the proverbial mega-bookstore stocked with multiple biographies of John F. Kennedy and the Beatles, there's more than enough room for Before the Legend . At the end of the millennium, Time magazine voted reggae pioneer Bob Marley's "Exodus" (1977) the most important album of the 20th century, and similarly the BBC designated his humanist anthem "One Love" as song of the century. Yet precious little literature exists charting Marley's ascendancy in worldwide pop culture. Armed with new revelations (both personal and musical) about Marley's past, author Christopher John Farley attacks his subject precisely, with the best of intentions.

The subject provides Farley with a lot to unwrap. Musically, Bob Marley popularized reggae, performing concerts across the globe as a guitar-wielding cultural ambassador from the Caribbean; spiritually, he introduced the Rastafarian religion and its sacraments of marijuana smoking and dreadlocks into world consciousness; and politically, he voiced the plight of the Third World -- although Marley himself remarked, "I don't think of Third World. To me, I am of the First World." Rather than a complete life history of the singer, Before the Legend examines the period from his birth (Feb. 6, 1945) in the Jamaican parish of St. Ann to the release of his breakthrough 1973 album, "Catch a Fire."

Along with entertainers such as Alicia Keys, Lenny Kravitz and Halle Berry, Marley has long been included on a list of African Americans who have one black parent and one white one. But Before the Le gend rebuts the long-held belief that the singer's father, Norval St. Claire Marley, was white. A "wedding certificate for the marriage of Robert Marley [Bob's paternal grandfather] and Ellen Bloomfield [his paternal grandmother] lists him as 'white' and her as 'colored,' " Farley writes, revealing a discovery destined to wipe Marley from the above-mentioned list. "Later generations of the Marley family were unaware of Bloomfield's racial designation. She may have passed for white. Bob Marley would face grief all his life for being the offspring of black and white. . . . The truth was, the 'white' side of his family was racially mixed all along."

Marley's parentage is no small matter. His enduring belief in his biracial background created much of his inclusive outlook on life and influenced the lyrical content of tunes like "One Love" and "Buffalo Soldier." Farley -- a former reporter at Time magazine currently working for the Wall Street Journal -- brings his investigative skills to bear here, digging deeper than former Marley biographers to unearth this crucial detail. This information, gleaned from Chris Marley, a great-nephew of Bob Marley's father, is extremely significant to the singer's legacy.

Farley delivers one other notable achievement in Before the Legend : scoring previously forbidden access to the so-called Red X tapes, clandestine autobiographical recordings made by the late Peter Tosh, Marley's former band mate in the Wailers. In addition, Bunny Wailer (the other founding member of the original Wailers trio) made available to Farley more than seven hours of similar audio recordings. The problem is these tapes don't seem to reveal all that much about the early days of Marley, Tosh and Wailer that isn't available elsewhere.

Before the Legend is meant as an informative portrait of Marley prior to superstardom, and here Farley does succeed. The narrative explores all the points expected of a biography of its scope. Its subject, born Nesta Robert Marley, was raised in the Jamaican village of Nine Miles with no electricity or running water, a pile of stones for a stove, and an outhouse in the back of his mother's one-room stone hut. By the time the guitar-playing Marley was a teen, the invention of sound systems ("crude, rickety contraptions, usually made up of belt-driven turntables perched on homemade amplifiers") led circuitously to the creation of ska music ("We figured we would try the downbeat on the second beat," explains record arranger Ernest Ranglin), which in turn led to reggae. Enter Bob Marley and the Wailing Wailers, the requisite record-industry shadiness and an eventual savior in Island Records' Chris Blackwell.

Farley's dry writing style ultimately reduces the impact of his book. A typical passage: Marley "did not break-dance, and he wasn't known for spraying graffiti tags on Kingston buildings. But his music was composed of songs from the streets. He was born, as an artist, in the same cultural mix that gave birth to hip-hop." Farley's point is accurate, but its obviousness is made all the more banal by his colorless presentation. He would have benefited from dipping into the creative well he used for Kingston by Starlight , his novel published last year.

In 2003, the cultural critic Greg Tate's Midnight Lightning: Jimi Hendrix and the Black Experience examined the lack of appreciation for the heavily scrutinized Hendrix among blacks. Farley could certainly have profited from a similarly unique take on Marley, perhaps by offering a biography with a pointed perspective instead of another rote life history. As it stands, Before the Legend -- though instructive -- fails to significantly improve on existing books such as the late Timothy White's seminal Catch A Fire: The Life of Bob Marley . ·

Miles Marshall Lewis is the Paris-based editor of Bronx Biannual literary journal.

© 2006 The Washington Post Company

Seandapal

It leaves a good feeling to read that mainstream artist Sean Paul is getting more concious every album. The interview reads that Seandapal plans to record more politically aware lyrics in his next album.

http://www.boston.com/news/globe/living/articles/2006/08/19/sean_paul_hails_his_musical_forebears?mode=PF


Sean Paul hails his musical forebears

There'll be a whole lot of shakin' going on when Mariah Carey hits the TD Banknorth Garden Monday night.

But before the now-emancipated Mimi gets to ``Shake It Off," dancehall sensation Sean Paul will be instructing fans how to ``Shake That Thing."

Paul, 33, has broken into the mainstream with his wriggly odes to booty-moving in a way only a select few Jamaican artists have before him. His Grammy-winning 2002 breakthrough album ``Dutty Rock" spawned five hit singles, including ``Shake That Thing" and the Beyonce duet ``Baby Boy , " and has sold 6 million copies world wide. The 2005 follow-up ``The Trinity," recorded entirely in Jamaica, has sold close to 2 million on the strength of ``Temperature" and current single ``(When You Gonna) Give It Up to Me."

Although Paul is best known for applying his rapid-fire flow to racy club bangers, ``Trinity" also features a serious song about friends he has lost to violence in Kingston. Born Sean Paul Henriques, the multi-ethnic rapper -- his parents are of Chinese, Portuguese, and Jamaican heritage -- plans to commit more politically minded tunes to tape for his fourth album, due next spring.

We caught up with Paul by phone from a Montreal tour stop and discovered that he gives interviews the same way he performs: rapid-fire, in a lilting mix of Jamaican patois and street slang.

Q: According to your bio, you're technically the most successful Jamaican artist of all time, based on Billboard chart positions. What does that statistic mean to you?

A: I feel good to know that I'm representing reggae and dancehall music right now on that level. But I also must big up people who have done work before, and they're still doing work and they inspire me today, people who led the way for me such as Buju Banton, Beenie Man. I have to respect that because they did authentic hardcore dancehall music for many, many years. Plus also the elders in the music business such as Steel Pulse and Bob Marley. Bob Marley did this without any media coverage, you know what I'm saying?

Q: In Jamaica, it's common for artists to put out a half - dozen non-album singles in one year, whereas in the US, record companies don't want to saturate the market. Do you have singles out at home that you haven't released here yet?

A: I have recorded quite a few singles since the album's been out. There's one song called ``Sufferer" which is a bit different, and I've been writing a lot more conscious songs lately. This song talks on behalf of kids who are sufferers in Jamaica, and it tells the story of why they turn to gun violence. I'm saying kid, look at these great people who were sufferers, and they made a difference in humanity today. So when you are fighting this war over whatever it is you're fighting, just try to remember you could be killing the next Martin Luther, you could be killing the next Bob Marley, you yourself could be something different from the regular street thug.

Q: After working with some of the biggest producers in the business on ``Dutty Rock" you made a point to go back to Jamaica for ``The Trinity" and work with lesser known local guys like Lenky and Vendetta. Why?

A: After the success, after the 6 million [sales], after the Grammy, I was like four of my singles that hit were all produced in Jamaica. This means to me that the world is finally getting what I got in the early '80s as a kid. So when I went back what would inspire me was the kids doing it just like I did before. It was like, wow, these kids are just stepping up in the game. I have to give them a chance.

Q: Now other artists are working with those producers. How do you feel about the kind of influence you've had in that regard?

A: As a kid, I was like this music could be represented on MTV and BET and all these big stations. I think it's great music, and so I always thought of it as a big international type music. And when I started to do it [I became] popular in Jamaica, and then I became more popular in the States. In about 2001 people started saying to me , `Yo, you brought back reggae and dancehall . How do you feel?' I'm like I didn't bring it back nowhere. I'm in a great tradition that's been around from the '50s and long before that. It didn't go nowhere.

Boston Reggae Scene - August

http://theedge.bostonherald.com/musicNews/view.bg?articleid=153343&format=text

Reggae, set, go! Summer’s right for triple shot of island music fests

By Chris Faraone
Friday, August 18, 2006 - Updated: 12:11 PM EST

Compared with most northern cities, Boston is a reggae metropolis. With roots reggae and dancehall venues such as Bill’s Bar and the Western Front, Beantown’s proximity to the ocean (never mind the water temperature) and thousands of spliff-toking college kids, one might even say Boston put the “mon” in commonwealth.
This summer proves the point. The next two weeks bring three Jamaican sound blowouts at the Bank of America Pavilion: tomorrow’s Reggae Sunsplash; the Roots Rock Reggae Festival on Thursday; and the One Love Harborfest on Aug. 31.
“The opportunity to have all three festivals came around the same time,” said Boston reggae personality Paul Parara, whose Ingenius Concepts is promoting the shows, “we didn’t think that this would actually happen. But then Sunsplash came back after a 10-year hiatus, so we just tied them all in as the Waterfront Reggae Festival.”
Fans can buy a ticket to one show for $35, to two for $60 or to all three for $75.
Parara admits that promoting this convergence of shows is a challenge with most college students still on summer break. But he’s encouraged by Boston’s long-term love affair with reggae, a romance that dates back to 1972 when the cult movie “The Harder They Come” starring Jimmy Cliff became a staple at the former Orson Welles movie theater in Cambridge, where it screened regularly for years. According to Parara, VP Records, which produces many of today’s reggae hits, believes Boston is the biggest American market for reggae after New York and Miami. And each of the festival shows offers fans something different.
“Sunsplash and Roots Rock (Reggae Fest) will be a little more relaxed, dreadlocks-slowly-swinging-through-the-air type of shows,” said DJ G-Smith (real name: Gerry Smith), who hosts the reggae program “Rockers” on WERS-FM (88.9). “They’ll be like your quintessential hippie-type reggae festivals.”
The three festivals offer something for fans of every shade of reggae, Smith said, from Bob Marley-type roots styles to more aggressive dancehall flavor.
Sunsplash is the rootsiest, most traditional of the fests. Its lineup includes Toots & the Maytals, the group credited with first using the word “reggae” in a song, veterans Third World and Maxi Priest and British stars UB40.
Different reggae generations come together at Thursday’s Roots, Rock, Reggae Fest to pay tribute to the late Bob Marley. Two of the international reggae legend’s most prolific sons, Ziggy, 37, and Stephen, 34, share the stage with the reclusive Bunny Wailer, the last living member of the original Wailers trio of Bunny, Bob Marley and Peter Tosh.
“Bunny Wailer is a reggae legend dating back to Bob Marley’s days,” Smith said. “This is a rare opportunity. He hasn’t been here in years, so it’s going to be great for his older fans to finally get to see him.”
Roots Rock Reggae, the most eclectic of the festivals, also features Ozomatli, a California group that blends reggae, hip-hop and Latin sounds into a politically charged repertoire.
Finally, there’s the One Love Harborfest.
“Dancehall is the primary difference at One Love,” Smith said, referring to the quick vocal delivery and jumpy club beats that are sure to crash down at the final show.
“But there’s more to it,” Smith said. “Buju Banton also does a culture set, which is kind of like new reggae that sounds more rootsy. And Capleton mixes it up throughout his performance, too.”
The bill also features Gregory Isaacs, who has maintained his popularity after creating the lovers rock style of reggae in the ’70s.
“You can’t go wrong with any three of these shows,” Smith said. “I can honestly say that I think older reggae fans would even enjoy themselves at the One Love fest. Sure, it’s gonna be more hype and there might be a younger crowd, but nobody should be scared off by dancehall. It’s just a really good time. It’s all just reggae.”
Reggae Sunsplash tomorrow; Roots Rock Reggae Festival, Thursday; One Love Harborfest, Aug. 31, at the Bank of America Pavilion. Tickets are $35 for one show, $60 for two shows, $75 for three shows, plus service charges. Call 617-228-6000.

selling Bob Marley

Surely this rasta be some sort of joke?

by Chris James
The world of mobile gaming has alighted upon some pretty unlikely subjects in recent months, from TV dramas like Desperate Housewives and The OC to millionaire it girl heiress Paris Hilton.

Few however can compete in the 'you what?' stakes with the latest release from Hudson Entertainment: Bob Marley's Burnin', the first in a planned trilogy of mobile games based upon the musical legend to be released over the next few years.

So what on earth will the game consist of? The press release suggests it'll be 'all of Marley's passions' and naturally both music and the gorgeous backdrops of Jamaica therefore play a part.

What you might not expect to see at the heart of the game however is football (perhaps the biographers skipped over Marley's early career as a triallist at Burnley?). Nevertheless that's exactly what you get.

Of the two main game modes, Extreme Juggling is essentially a game of keepy-uppy, with players performing tricks and collecting power-ups, whilst Super Kick seems to be a challenge of who can kick the ball the furthest. In both cases, keeping the ball airborne will require pressing buttons in time to Marley's music, including classic tracks like One Love, Stir It Up and Could This Be Love.

Oh, and just to make things a little more arbitrary, there'll also be Marley-related trivia questions dotted throughout the game.

"The staying power of Bob Marley is a true testament to his musical gifts to the world," Hudson Entertainment president John Greiner said, possibly from a beachside jerk chicken joint. "We wanted to create an interactive experience that captures the Rastafarian spirit and all the elements that Marley loved, from music, to island life, and soccer. "

To be honest, it all sounds like the sort of thing you might come up with after indulging in another of Marley's favourite pastimes. As usual our expectations are high though, so let's hope we don't have to weed out too much dreadful gameplay when it rolls up to our office sometime in autumn.

selling Bob Marley

http://www.joystiq.com/2006/08/18/bob-marley-cries-tears-of-pain-in-heaven/



Bob Marley cries tears of pain in heaven

Gaming blog Wonderland received word and that a Bob Marley game is in the works and will soon be ready to blaze up your cell phone. We only wish that Marley were here to see the crushing blow that has been done to his image by way of a cheesy cell phone game. Here are all the joys you'll get with the cringe-inducing title Bob Marley Burnin':

Hey Mon! Enjoy the tropics as you play as Bob Marley in some fun mini games. This game celebrates Marley's passions, from island life, soccer, and of course, music - Reggae style! Juggle the ball in the air like a pro, and rack up combo points for hitting special power-ups. See how far you can kick a ball while timing the bounce to Marley music. It's simple yet addictive fun, all set to your favorite Marley tunes including "One Love", "Stir It Up", and "Could You Be Loved". This game is the ultimate tropical experience!

Reading that description makes us curl up and shake like Mr. Burns so often does on The Simpsons. Something like this just should not be done to such a beloved man of music. For shame you nefarious profit seekers!

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

New York Times on Reggae

Published: August 13, 2006
New York Times

Earlier this year all of Jamaica seemed to be listening to the same song. That song was “Ghetto Story,” by a rising star known as Cham, who told a vivid tale of poverty and crime. Over an electronic beat composed of a few sharp buzzes, Cham started at the beginning:


I remember those days when Hell was my home
When me and Mama bed was a big piece a foam
And me never like bathe and my hair never comb
When Mama gone a work, me go street, go roam

“Ghetto Story” was an unlikely candidate for cross-over success. Too many words, too many local references, too much slang. It’s a crime narrative, not a dance song.

And yet “Ghetto Story” just won’t go away. The New York hip-hop radio station Hot 97 started playing it, betting that listeners would get sucked in by Cham’s fervid voice, even if they didn’t catch all the words. A low-budget music video found its way onto MTV. Cham recorded a remix with Akon, and then another one with Alicia Keys, who sang about the old New York: “Hookers and ho’s/On 11th Avenue, selling bodies for dope.” Cham’s record company, Atlantic, commissioned a new music video, one that doesn’t look like a straight-to-DVD crime flick. All this is buildup for Tuesday, when Cham’s second album, also called “Ghetto Story,” will arrive in stores.

Reached in a hotel in Rochester, where he was working his way through a not particularly glamorous American promotional tour, Cham said he was surprised by the success of his single. “It was the biggest song in Jamaica after, like, two days,” he said. “Then it went from Jamaica to New York, and it started to rip New York to pieces. Then to London. And I said: ‘Oh. I see what’s going on.’ ’’

But will people buy the album? As Cham knows better than anyone, he’s merely the latest in a long line of reggae stars trying to figure out how to convert momentum and a major-label budget into a viable career. Sean Paul has done it, partly because he never really seemed like part of Jamaica’s rough-and-tumble reggae scene. But others, from Damian Marley (last year’s great reggae hope) to Elephant Man (who was, briefly, an unlikely hip-hop star) to the respected veteran Beenie Man (whose new album is due later this month), have had a harder time negotiating the American pop charts.

It’s not entirely the audience’s fault either. If there’s one thing more fickle than the American record-buying public, it’s the Jamaican reggae scene. And the story of reggae in the last few years has largely been a story of false starts, minor triumphs and — most frustrating of all — self-sabotage.

By the time Bob Marley died, in 1981, he was far and away the most beloved musician in the history of reggae, but he was hardly a representative figure. Reggae fans were already embracing a new form, dancehall reggae. It had fewer notes: the music consisted of stripped-down tracks, known as riddims. And it had more words: singers were gradually adopting more conversational styles.

In 1985 a pioneering electronic riddim called “Sleng Teng,” composed by King Jammy, helped push dancehall into the computer age. Since then, as electronic beats and forcefully declaimed lyrics have become the norm, dancehall has grown closer in sound and spirit to hip-hop, just as hip-hop had borrowed many of its sounds and strategies from early dancehall. As it happens, Cham’s “Ghetto Story” is in part a tribute to that first wave of computer-generated dancehall. It’s based on an old-fashioned electronic riddim called “85,” in homage to that watershed year. The “85” riddim is the work of Dave Kelly, a brilliant producer who could (but wouldn’t) claim to be the Dr. Dre of dancehall.

Mr. Kelly has been making reggae hits since the early 1990’s, when he worked with the ferocious dancehall roarer Buju Banton. And he has been paying close attention over the last decade, as the genre has endured a handful of triumphs and a fistful of setbacks, while steadily pumping out wild, weird singles.

Speaking from Florida, where he lives when he’s not in Jamaica, Mr. Kelly said that the growing American success of the “Ghetto Story” might be a good sign for a genre that could use one. “I’m optimistic,” he said, “because I think it’s getting to the point where people are realizing that dancehall reggae is more then a catchy hook or a dance move.”

He was referring indirectly to the reggae boom of 2002-3. That was when Sean Paul was taking off, when Elephant Man’s frenetic club hit “Pon de River Pon de Bank” could be seen on BET, when the dancehall crooner Wayne Wonder was enjoying a surprise pop hit with “No Letting Go.” Reggae was on the verge of a major breakthrough. But since then reggae has gone back underground, and Jamaican tastes have changed.

After the boom the Jamaican charts filled up with old-fashioned roots-reggae songs, which weren’t quite as compatible with American hip-hop. And this year two of the biggest (and best) Jamaican hits — “Badman Forward, Badman Pull Up,” by Ding Dong, a dancer, and “Dutty Wine,” by Tony Matterhorn, a D.J. — aren’t really songs at all: they are dancing guides, with yelled instructions in place of lyrics. Try explaining all that to a casual pop fan, looking for the next Sean Paul.

In recent years reggae stars have also had to reckon with a controversy of their own making. Many of the top performers have recorded songs with antigay lyrics. In 2004 gay-rights activists started an awareness campaign, and concerts by Beenie Man and other dancehall stars were canceled in Europe and America.

The furor seemed to die down after the top reggae stars privately agreed to avoid recording violent antigay rhetoric in the future. But the effect lingered: nonfans all over the world now think of dancehall as the genre with the antigay lyrics. And last month Beenie Man learned that the anger hasn’t subsided: his AIDS benefit concert, scheduled for New York, had to be canceled after an outcry.

This is what Beenie Man is facing as he promotes his new album — and umpteenth crossover attempt — “Undisputed” (Virgin), which is due on Aug. 29. The album focuses on playful sex songs, and it includes the Jamaican hit “Hmm Hmm” (produced by Tony, Mr. Kelly’s half-brother), which cleverly uses those hums in place of a common Jamaican vulgarity.

But elsewhere Beenie Man sounds a bit flat, as if his frustrating recent years had sapped his usual wit and verve. Outside Jamaica his long career seems more like a trail of damning evidence; an abject apology might help, but it would be a gamble: Jamaican fans would likely view it as an unacceptable capitulation.

Maybe all that makes Cham (formerly Baby Cham) the ideal reggae star for this complicated moment. He’s a clean-cut but versatile vocalist, equally capable of unleashing a barrage of threats or delivering a bouquet of lover-man promises. He sounds equally at home on an American radio station or in a Jamaican club. He has avoided the antigay lyrics that helped derail Beenie Man’s career. And with Mr. Kelly in his corner, Cham has a steady supply of simple but elegant electronic beats.

“Ghetto Story” begins with half a dozen hard, brash, unimpeachable tracks. In “Tic Toc” he turns a nursery rhyme into a warning: “Tic, toc, tic goes the clock/Informers dance to the sound of my Glock.” While he doesn’t pretend to have an American accent (as some hit-hungry reggae stars have done), he delivers many of his lyrics slowly (by dancehall standards), so Americans can follow along.

“You have to find some way without watering down the lyrics, to break the language barrier,” he said. And to that end, he often lets his voice crack, like an adolescent’s, when he gets worked up. It’s a nonverbal cue that is never lost in translation.

There are a few missteps around the album’s halfway point. The thug-love choruses and hip-hop beats seem like an unnecessary concession to hip-hop listeners; besides, Cham never sounds better than when he’s got an old-fashioned digital dancehall beat to work with. Which raises a question. Is the focus on crossing over a mistake? Shouldn’t reggae stars be satisfied to make music that reggae fans like?

Part of the problem is the obvious economic one: You can’t make much money from CD’s in Jamaica. Mr. Kelly says he gave away about a thousand copies of the “85” compilation (which includes the “Ghetto Story” single) on the island.

“We’re not even trying to sell records in Jamaica,” he said. Instead he wants to keep Jamaican listeners satisfied (Cham recently did a free tour of the island) while reaping the rewards in America and overseas.

Now all Cham needs is for “Ghetto Story” to keep climbing in popularity, and for the next single to do just as well; it’s a tall order but not an impossible one. He knows that, in a globalized music economy, real success depends on attracting listeners who don’t know — or care to know — about the genre’s rich history.

Staying home isn’t an option. “You just sit in Jamaica, making records that mash up Jamaica? It doesn’t come like that,” he said. “So I’m willing to do the work.”

Making money off of Rasta

http://www.eastandard.net/mag/mag.php?id=1143956623&catid=123


Rasta business

Last Updated on August 11, 2006, 12:00 am
The Standart

Unlike other music genres, reggae transcends beyond the realm of simply providing entertainment, becoming almost a religion. Caroline Nyanga looks at its impact on our nation

During the early 1990’s, nightclub revellers hardly dared to venture to reggae shows, and it was considered unprofessional to give reggae music airplay. The few deejays that did were considered ‘thugs’.

Reggae is a music genre developed in Jamaica. The term is generally used to distinguish a particular style that originated in the late 1960s. The two sub-genres of reggae are roots reggae and dancehall reggae (the original reggae), which originates in the late 1970s. Reggae is often associated with the Rastafari movement, which influenced many prominent reggae musicians in the 1970s and 1980s.

However, as time went by, the skewed perception of the music that immortalised Bob Marley changed.

According to King Monday, (David Monday), who’s been a reggae deejay for 15 years, the change can be attributed to the way the music has been publicised.

"It is the way the music has been popularised by DJ’s, radio stations and, to some extent, musicians that has enabled the genre to grow," says the 29-year-old, who runs Livity International Sounds.

Daddy Freddy (Frederick Shikoli) of Shashamane International observes that majority of Kenyans prefer reggae music because it has longevity and it talks about daily experiences. "Unlike other music that contains vulgar lyrics, reggae music grows, maturing slowly," he says.

He feels that reggae music has changed in its mix and style.

Twenty-four-year-old Bernard Ouma, popularly known as DJ Lastborn, has been in the game since 1996 and observes that people have come to realise that reggae music is easy to listen to, because of its simplicity.

"Reggae music is simple, yet so deep and I believe that’s what makes it real," he says.

"Since more people listen to reggae music then it’s obvious that the circulation is higher today." DJ Lastborn explains that this has a lot to do with the positive vibes exuded by the beats in the music that have made people realise that reggae is not as boring as previously perceived, "All it takes is patience and an open mind."

Papa Charlie (Charles Estika), a veteran reggae DJ, recalls when radio stations would not touch reggae. He describes the current reggae craze as an inevitable revolution. Local deejay and presenter Chris Darlin compares reggae to soul music and says it is important that radio stations have come to appreciate it.

"I remember we used to be called to play reggae at KBC. We would be given 30 minutes of airtime and the station chose what songs were to be played," says King Monday. However, as the number of radio stations increased, so did the demand for a variety of music. Reggae consequently found a niche and Metro FM plays only reggae music.

"Reggae listeners are a very dedicated people," says another local radio presenter. "They will tune in anytime there is reggae playing, no matter what station it is."

When Kiss FM was launched, only one or two reggae songs were played in a day. Now the same station gives you over four hours of reggae daily. "We started by experimenting with reggae (the Kiss FM Reggae Month), says Kajairo, "but we were glad it turned out in our favour."

Easy FM plays three hours daily, Kameme an hour daily and four on Saturdays, while Classic 105 dedicates a whole weekend (dubbed ‘Reggae Weekend’) to reggae music, each month.

Before this, there were only reggae themed clubs. This meant that reggae fans were isolated from other revellers since they were perceived as layabouts whose mission in life was to sit around aimlessly and chew miraa (khat), and riot.

Now, most clubs in Kenya have reggae sessions at least once a night, especially over the weekends.

DJ Lionnel Johnson, aka Teacher Lion, is a Jamaican based in Sheffield, UK. He is currently on a visit to Kenya and he is awed by the changes he has seen.

"Here reggae is everywhere; in the clubs, in the public transport, in the shopping malls and in some offices, there is a secretary playing reggae somewhere," he says in amazement. "In the UK, reggae is there yes, but man, I have never seen so many clubs playing reggae and the crowd asking for more of it. Never have I seen a culture like this in every corner of the country… except in Jamaica."

In a nutshell, radio presenters feel that preachers of the Word might all preach the same message, but the difference lies in one’s style and what verses of the Word one prefers to use to drive a certain message home.

Presenters play music that is close to their hearts. "This is the difference between a presenter and a DJ," says Jeff Mwangemi, a seasoned KBC reggae presenter. It is imperative they have knowledge of the music and the songs that they are playing, so as to be able to introduce it and in essence expound on it, while a DJ plays music according to the crowd’s mood.

Radio stations and clubs have picked up on the reggae craze in the country and popularised the genre even further.

"Just a few years ago," says Jeff, "reggae was hardly the kind of music one could announce he was involved in. I think it had to do with the way it was presented." He adds that this is so because reggae was not considered a ‘profession’ as it now is. Mwangemi says it’s a good thing that all local radio stations play reggae music, a dream that has taken ages to be realised.

Another influential DJ, Ras Luigi, who introduced reggae to Capital FM two years ago, says it was not easy for radio listeners to appreciate reggae, because initially it involved a lot of politics.

"I had to play only the music that listeners were familiar with, like Bob Marley’s No Woman No Cry. I started off with lovers’ rock and a little bit of Roots and Dancehall," he recalls.

"Musicians like Peter Tosh were excellent reggae artistes, but they were too political. But today, the message is changing and is becoming softer and simpler to understand."

When on air, Ras Luigi says he gets hundreds of text messages from reggae fans congratulating him for the shows and making requests.

"Most of the messages are from the young, high class generation, unlike the perception that only people from ghetto listen to reggae," says the DJ, who has been in the profession since 1999.

Presenter-cum-musician Talia Oyando says reggae music has grown immensely over the years. "It’s the only music that is listened to by the young and the old," she says.

Although she admits to having no idea as to why reggae is in the mainstream, she says she gets about 2,000 text messages, 1,500 emails and hundreds of calls during her shows.

Shoe Kiratu of Kameme FM also agrees that reggae music appeals to everyone.

Kiss FM’s Programme Controller, James Njoroge, says the market dictates a lot of what they do. "Our research shows that reggae is big, as opposed to the idea that it was the music for the lower end," he says. According to him, reggae music is timeless and universal.

Fred Afune, Programme Controller Citizen and YFM, says: "The consumer insight research shows that reggae has crossed all social classes and age groups."

Local reggae group Necessary Noize’s last album was a hit, as was Ousman’s single, Rising Sun.

Afune says research peak indicates that their show, dubbed ‘Citizen Radio Reggae’ is the most popular.

But not everyone agrees with the theory of the reggae bandwagon. Jah’key Marley has probably been on the Kenyan reggae music scene longer than most. He is a musician, a reggae DJ and owner of Jah’mbo Sounds, which has its home in Hollywood Club, River Road. "There are less than a handful of reggae musicians who have ‘made it’ to the light of day in Kenya," he says, naming Mighty KingKong, Ousman and Tequilla.

"It took me a frustrating five years to work on my first album, but the fruits were acceptable," he says. "I organise and promote most of my shows, but once in a while, another promoter does it for me."

Jah’key says that it is very unfair that many radio stations do not give local reggae artistes airplay, even now when reggae is becoming very popular among Kenyans. "People can’t buy our music if they do not hear it or get to know about it, and this therefore, directly affects our sales."

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

Queen of Sheba

Here is an article from respectable British newspaper Guardian's travel section. For Rasta the story of the Queen of Sheba and Solomon is exteremely significant because out of their relationship was born Menelik I who is the ancestor of Emperor Haile Selassie I. This links Ras Tafari Haile Selassie to Solomon, David, Moses and Yeshua (Jesus Christ).

http://travel.guardian.co.uk/countries/story/0,,1811736,00.html?gusrc=rss

Mystery of an African queen

There are two versions of the legend of the Queen of Sheba - one set in Yemen and the other in Ethiopia. Catherine Arnold explores them both

Monday July 3 2006

Guardian Unlimited

Sana'a, Yemen
'Time seems to have paused' ... the old city of Sana’a in Yemen is a Unesco World Heritage site. Photograph: Catherine Arnold
Inspiration for films, paintings and feminists, the Biblical story of the Queen of Sheba and King Solomon is tantalisingly brief.

"She came to Jerusalem with a very great retinue, with camels bearing spices, and very much gold, and precious stones," says the first book of Kings, chapter 10. By verse 13 she returns home. But, I often wondered, to where? In Yemen and Ethiopia apparently, anyone could tell me.

Unfortunately, they don't agree.

On a rocky plain, lapped by the sands of the Rub al-Khali - the Empty Quarter - the ancient, Southern Arabian civilisation flourished. A massive dam and complex irrigation system turned the desert around the trading town of Marib into verdant orchards and, as Yemenis insist, the home of the Queen of Sheba.

It was an orange-crested bird which, according to the Qur'an, first brought news to King Solomon of a green land in the south, beyond the desert. There a fearsome queen ruled, and she worshipped the sun. Solomon sent the bird, a hoopoe, back with a letter of invitation and Belqis, Queen of Sheba, travelled to Jerusalem.

After being put through a series of tests, she finally entered a glass hall Solomon had built specially for her. Mistaking the polished glass for a pool of water, Belqis lifted her skirts, only to bare her hairy legs to the assembled courtiers. Shamed and awed by Solomon's power, she turned to Allah.

With this story as companion, I bundle into a jeep on its way to Marib, today the main town in an oil-rich, north-eastern province of Yemen.

The Yemeni version
I never find early starts good for the imagination, still less so in a country where tea is stronger than coffee. Despite having given the world coffee - mocha takes its name from a port in southern Yemen - Yemenis brew only the outer husk of the bean, preferring to export the part that the rest of the world considers worth drinking.

Admittedly, with most of the population ruminating on qat, a mild amphetamine, they probably don't a need caffeine boost. Unfortunately, as I set off with the pink mountain dawn, I do.

The Yemeni capital, Sana'a, is one of the highest in the world at 2,200 metres, the slouching modern city corseted by a ring of barren and pockmarked mountains. The Marib road twists and turns as it plunges through grotesquely fissured clefts as though trying to shake off the mountains. The very sterility of the landscape is much of its charm; uncluttered by plants, the raw shapes of the mountain resolve into fleeting figures and imaginary beasts as the car whizzes past.

Marib: Yemen's palace ruins
By the time I reach Marib, the road has dropped over 1,000 meters to the very edge of the Empty Quarter. This is real desert: sand dunes, black, basalt lava flows, and scrub.

With the temperature rising and no sign of a tourist trail, I begin to wish the Queen of Sheba had chosen somewhere more temperate to live. And then, over the crest of a sand dune, in the midst of many more, the ruins of her palace suddenly appear.

Carved antelope curl across smooth stones, cavorting round runic inscriptions, and on the central dais, five austere pillars drop fat, black-fingered shadows over the yellowed stone and sand. Restive tribes and a shortage of funds have held back most attempts at further excavation, which leaves much of the complex still hidden by sand, but just on from the palace are the visible remains of an enormous dam and irrigation system.

Possibly constructed as early as 1000BC, the dam turned Marib into the "two paradises" of the Qur'an, lush with fruit trees. Standing at the foot of the mighty sluices and looking out over the searing desolation it's almost impossible to believe that this land could once have been filled with bird-song and the court of the Queen of Sheba.

Sana'a: city from another time
But back in Sana'a, it isn't so hard to imagine her in Yemen.

Old Sana'a is a Unesco World Heritage site and - quickly getting lost in a warren of alleys made gloomy by seven-storey, mud-brick houses - it is easy to see why.

Slim men in traditional, tribal dress sporting large daggers, lounge in doorways and shop fronts. Before each of them lies a carpet of twigs and discarded leaves and hamstered into a cheek is a massive bolus of qat. Women bustle past with baskets full of vegetables freshly gathered from walled gardens scattered around the city. The older ones bind their entire face in black gauze and drape a gaudy block-print cloth over their heads.

Like girls anywhere the younger generation don't want to look like their grandmothers. Giggling and haggling over sequined and provocatively plunging dresses, all are in austere black burqas, most of which aren't quite long enough to conceal their painted toes and cripplingly high stilettos.

Time seems to have paused, in this dreamy medieval city of wedding-cake houses and countless mosques. Perhaps, like me, it wants to linger a little longer under a mulberry tree with a sweet milk-tea, but at the airport it is pressing on and I have plane to catch. I'm booked on the 90-minute flight across the Red Sea to Ethiopia, where they tell a completely different story about the Queen of Sheba. There she is not Belqis, but the African Queen Mekeda.

The Ethiopian version
Today her former capital, Axum, is little more than a village, a sleepy jumble of whitewashed lean-to houses and small, half-built tourist hotels in northern Ethiopia. In one of the numerous roadside bars, armed with a cold, locally brewed beer, there is no shortage of people eager to practise their English and tell me more about the Queen of Sheba.

Here they recount how, on hearing tell of Solomon's wisdom, Mekeda travelled from Axum, to quiz him in person. He passed her tests, fell in love with his beautiful guest and tricked her into bed. Trickery seemed to play a large part in these new stories I was being told about King Solomon, more famous in the west for wisdom than wiliness.

The one part of the tale on which Ethiopians and Yemenis agree is that the Queen of Sheba gave birth to Solomon's son Menelik. Ethiopia's last king, Haile Selassie, or Ras Tafari - as revered by the Rastafarians - claimed to be the last of his Solomonic line.

Axum: Ark of the Covenant
Many of Axum's sights, including fields of huge, carved granite monoliths are so shrouded in mystery that to be shown the bath of the Queen of Sheba seems reassuringly factual. Part hewn and part built around a natural outcrop of bare rock, capped with a tangle of grass and tortured succulents, the setting, if not the bath itself, is superb.

Once a year in January the bath becomes the focal point for the Timkat, or Epiphany celebrations, when priests arrayed in golden vestments parade with a replica of the Ark of the Covenant. The true Ark of the Covenant, as it so happens, is said to be just down the road in the church of St Mary of Zion.

Legend has it that Menelik travelled to Jerusalem to visit his father, Solomon. On the night of his departure, angels came to him and told him to take the Ark to Axum. Here it still rests, tended day and night by a solitary monk who will watch over it until his death. Sadly, everyone else just gets to see the peeling exterior of St Mary's. Like the Holy Grail in Spielberg's Indiana Jones epic, there is nothing to indicate that one of the holiest relics of two world faiths might lie within.

Ethiopia's palace ruins
My final stop is the ruins of Queen of Sheba's palace. A dusty half-hour tramp out of town, down a pitted mire of cow dung, mud and vegetable ends, I am cheered on by a personal army of souvenir sellers and aspirant guides. The floor plan of the 50-room palace is still clearly visible, and the Ethiopian Tourist Board has conveniently placed a viewing platform at one end.

From there, gazing over fields swaddled in green to the pepper-pot hills in the distance, I know where my queen would have lived. If historians can't decide where the Queen of Sheba came from, then I'm happy to leave it to the imagination. It all depends on whether you'd rather head home with the image of a fearsome Arab queen forging paradise out of the desert, or of an African queen, quietly bathing in some limpid and moss-filled pool, languidly dreaming of wisdom and a far-off king.

importance of LION for Ethiopia

http://www.addistribune.com/Archives/2005/07/22-07-05/Lions%20and%20Elephants.htm

Lions and Elephants in Ethiopian History

By Richard Pankhurst

Ethiopia over the centuries has witnessed numerous great transformations.

The one we focus on this week relates to wild life, and in particular to the king of beasts, lions, as well as to the largest of animals, elephants.

Much Respected

Lions in Ethiopia in former days are believed to have been immensely respected. This can be seen from the medieval appellation of the Ethiopian monarch as the Lion of Judah. Ethiopian rulers had in fact a high regard for these animals. Emperor Lebna Dengel when on his travels, in the early 16th century, was reported to be preceded by several such beasts. The Gondarine monarchs in the centuries which followed had a lion cage. Emperor Tewodros, in late 19th century was depicted seated with several apparently docile lions around him. He and his predecessors and successors had lions engraved on their seals, Menilek, in 1894, likewise introduced them on to both his currency, and his postage stamps.

What about actual, as opposed to the ritualistic or symbolic, lions?

Lions were feared as wild and dangerous beasts. Hunters who succeeded in killing them - and other large animals - were highly honoured, and allowed to wear honorific ear-rings, while lion's hair formed part of the decorative, and very prestigious, cape and head-dress of great warriors.

Until the Coming of Fire-arms

The presence of lions is mentioned by many foreign travellers to Ethiopia, and it is probable that their numbers did not change greatly until the coming of fire-arms, which led, as we shall see, to a revolution in hunting methods. It was this revolution which led to the rapid disappearance of lions and other animals throughout most of the country.

This destruction, or elimination, of wild life, was in historical terms relatively recent. Early in the 19th century the British traveller Henry Salt reported an abundance of lions, notably in Wajarat, in southern Tegray. The French Scientific Mission of the 1840s drew a similar picture, while the Italian missionary De Jacobis shortly afterwards noted that the Marab river valley was "infested", as he wrote, with lions.

Lions were also undoubtably widespread in the south and east of Ethiopia. The British naval officer Cruttenden for example observed in 1848 that such animals during the dry season were "commonly seen" near the town well at Berbera on the Gulf of Aden coast.

Wild life, including lions, declined rapidly, however in the decades which followed. The German traveller Theodor von Heuglin, who visited the northern provinces in 1853 and again in the early 1860s, reported that big game on his second trip was far less plentiful than on the first, and that one seldom as before saw old animals.

Further to the south of Ethiopia the destruction of wild life developed a decade or two later. Lions were thus still to be seen in Shawa at the end of the 19th century. The British traveller Captain MS Wellby reported in the 1890s that the lowlands around Zeqwala, the mountain monastery situated within sight of modern Addis Ababa, was still "looked upon as the home of many lions". Present-day observers may now find this difficult to believe - though there was an occasion during Haile Sellassie's time, we are told, when a lion appeared at the Addis Ababa airport!

Diffusion of Fire-Arms

With the increasing diffusion of fire-arms, which we will consider shortly, prides of lions in most parts of the country rapidly disappeared. This made lion-hunting in the northern and central provinces increasingly difficult. The Italian author Tedesco-Zammarano noted in 1919 that the lions, which had thirty years earlier been seen in the Lamalmo area, in the north-west of the country, had by then disappeared, on account of hunting. He was perhaps unnecessarily critical of the animals which survived: Ethiopian lions, he declared, were "more wary and cowardly" than those in other parts of Africa, with the result that hunting in Ethiopia was difficult.

If we can equate waryness with cowardice may be a matter of debate, for wariness my be considered a virtue, and it is surely not cowardice for an animal to avoid being massacred with a gun.

Elephants

The fate of elephants in the 19th and early 20th centuries was, it is sad to say, equally dramatic - and for the animals themselves, tragic.

Highly prized both for their tusks and in ancient time for their role in war, these animals had long been exploited by man. Animals from what is now the northern region of Ethiopia (and of course to use modern parlance Eritrea) were captured, and shipped Egypt by the Pharaohs in specially constructed boats several centuries before the Christian era.

The survivors of those animals continued to roam the northern provinces in ancient Aksumite times, and, according to the Periplus of the Erythraen Sea, could sometimes be seen even at the Red Sea coast, near the old port of Adulis.

Ivory, obtained from elephants killed by traditional means, with knives and spears, or dying of natural cause, was a major export of the Aksumite empire, as well as of the medieval and post medieval Ethiopian state. The local people in places richest in elephants, were very skilled, according to ancient Greek and later records, in slashing the leg tendons of these huge animals, after which they chased them on foot, and fairly easily slaughtered them with spears.

Ivory Exports

Ivory exports from the Ethiopian region were significant throughout the historic period. Ethiopian, and indeed African, ivory was highly regarded as the elephants of Ethiopia, and Africa, had considerably larger tusks than those of their Indian cousins. Ethiopian ivory was thus long exported to the Indian sub-continent, which constituted a major region for ivory imports.

The importance of ivory exports is well documented in the Periplus, as well as in innumerable later writings.

In the early 19th. century, when documentation becomes infinitely richer, we find Henry Salt reporting that a "very considerable quantity of ivory" was procured from the northern Ethiopian provinces, most notably Walqayt and Shire. A generation or so later the French Scientific Mission of the 1840s reported that extensive hunting was then taking place in numerous areas of the country, including Addi Abo and Seraye, both in the north, as well as the Taltal country in the west, and the Oromo lands to the south. The principal markets for ivory included Gondar, Dabra Abay, Antalo, and Aleyu Amba. Two other French travellers of this time, Pierre Ferret and Joseph Galinier, also reported that ivory was also being transported from Enarya, as well as what they chose to call the country of the Shanqellas.

Ivory, according to the French Scientific Mission, was in many instances purchased in advance by traders, who paid for it before the elephants were actually killed.

There was also a demand for elephant hides, which were was used in the manufacture of shields.

Travellers to northern Ethiopia at this time tell of large caravans of ivory going down to the coast. The British geographer Charles Beke saw 75 mule-loads of ivory at Kararo near the Blue Nile .The French Scientific Mission saw twelve caravans at Adwa, with a total of 800 mules laden with ivory bound for the Red Sea port of Massawa, and reported that a further forty loads had been taken by other routes, through Antalo and Seraye. Yet another report told of 300 mule loads being carried through the Shawan market town of Aleyu Amba to the Gulf of Aden ports.

Annual ivory exports via Massawa were estimated by the German, Wilhelm Ruppell, at 300 tusks, valued at 6,000 Maria Theresa dollars, in 1838; by the Belgian Edouard Blondeel, at over 15,000 kilos, worth 32,000 dollars, in 1840; and by the French Scientific Mission, at almost 30,000 kilos, in 1842. Exports via the Gulf of Aden ports would seem to have also been considerable, as evident from the Frenchman Rochet d'Hericourt's estimate that shipments through Berbera were estimated by at around 40,000 kilos in 1840.

The mid 19th century - and the decades which followed - marked in fact a cruel time for Ethiopia's elephants.

Rasta in Cuba

http://www.thenewsargus.com/media/storage/paper646/news/2004/09/30/WorldIntl/Cuban.Rastafarians.Struggle.With.Discrimination.Meet.Clandestinely-734391.shtml?norewrite200608091133&sourcedomain=www.thenewsargus.com


Cuban Rastafarians struggle with discrimination, meet clandestinely

By: Tracey Eaton (KRT)

The News Argus
9/30/04


Knight Ridder Wire Service
Past the potholes and puddles, the skinny dogs and scampering children, a stone stairway snaked its way through an ancient apartment building. Near the top, a woman sat in her living room collecting the cover charge: 19 cents for Cuban women, 38 cents for men, $1 for foreigners.It was a clandestine party organized by those who say they're the most persecuted members of Cuba's counterculture: Rastafarians.
"A great many Rastas are in jail," said Eligio Flores Ruiz, 32. "The government doesn't accept us. They say we're a threat to the revolution. They're bothered by the fact that we're free thinkers."Government supporters deny that and say what bothers them is that Rastas break the law _ they smoke marijuana.The Rastafarian movement began in Jamaican slums in the 1930s. Believers say there's only one true God, the late Ethiopian emperor
Haile Selassie, formerly known as Ras Tafari. And they say marijuana, or ganja as they call it, helps them get closer to their inner spirit.Cuban authorities don't tolerate marijuana and other illegal drugs. And traffickers can be sentenced to death in extreme cases.Such perils don't stop some Rastas from lighting up at underground reggae parties.
These gatherings aren't advertised. Nor are they held at the same place every week. The sites are kept secret until the last minute to keep the authorities at bay. But police sometimes find out about them and raid the parties.
Rastas couldn't say how many there are in the country. There's no leader and no regular meeting place.Instead, Rastas find each other on the street, where many struggle to survive. Flores makes bead necklaces for a living, selling them for $2 and $3 each to tourists. Asked why he became a Rasta, he shrugged.
"I don't know - a way to feel freer, I guess."Still, he and others complain there isn't much tolerance for their way of life. Some believe they're discriminated against because they have dark skin and wear their hair in dreadlocks. Others say the police just have trouble accepting people who are different.
"What Cuba needs is to open up, said one Rasta, sipping a mojito in Old Havana."If Cuba had just a breath of freedom, it would take off in a fraction of a second," he said. Fed up with the pace of change, some Rastas only want to leave.
Flores did get off the island once. By chance, he and three Rasta friends were aboard a ferry that was hijacked in April 2003. He said he hadn't planned to leave, but quickly accepted his circumstances and was ready to start a new life in South Florida.Fate intervened.
The ferry ran out of fuel, and Cuban authorities captured the hijackers. Three were executed after summary trials. Flores wasn't charged.

Rasta in Cuba

http://www.thenewsargus.com/media/storage/paper646/news/2004/09/30/WorldIntl/Cuban.Rastafarians.Struggle.With.Discrimination.Meet.Clandestinely-734391.shtml?norewrite200608091133&sourcedomain=www.thenewsargus.com


Cuban Rastafarians struggle with discrimination, meet clandestinely

By: Tracey Eaton (KRT)

The News Argus
9/30/04


Knight Ridder Wire Service
Past the potholes and puddles, the skinny dogs and scampering children, a stone stairway snaked its way through an ancient apartment building. Near the top, a woman sat in her living room collecting the cover charge: 19 cents for Cuban women, 38 cents for men, $1 for foreigners.It was a clandestine party organized by those who say they're the most persecuted members of Cuba's counterculture: Rastafarians.
"A great many Rastas are in jail," said Eligio Flores Ruiz, 32. "The government doesn't accept us. They say we're a threat to the revolution. They're bothered by the fact that we're free thinkers."Government supporters deny that and say what bothers them is that Rastas break the law _ they smoke marijuana.The Rastafarian movement began in Jamaican slums in the 1930s. Believers say there's only one true God, the late Ethiopian emperor
Haile Selassie, formerly known as Ras Tafari. And they say marijuana, or ganja as they call it, helps them get closer to their inner spirit.Cuban authorities don't tolerate marijuana and other illegal drugs. And traffickers can be sentenced to death in extreme cases.Such perils don't stop some Rastas from lighting up at underground reggae parties.
These gatherings aren't advertised. Nor are they held at the same place every week. The sites are kept secret until the last minute to keep the authorities at bay. But police sometimes find out about them and raid the parties.
Rastas couldn't say how many there are in the country. There's no leader and no regular meeting place.Instead, Rastas find each other on the street, where many struggle to survive. Flores makes bead necklaces for a living, selling them for $2 and $3 each to tourists. Asked why he became a Rasta, he shrugged.
"I don't know - a way to feel freer, I guess."Still, he and others complain there isn't much tolerance for their way of life. Some believe they're discriminated against because they have dark skin and wear their hair in dreadlocks. Others say the police just have trouble accepting people who are different.
"What Cuba needs is to open up, said one Rasta, sipping a mojito in Old Havana."If Cuba had just a breath of freedom, it would take off in a fraction of a second," he said. Fed up with the pace of change, some Rastas only want to leave.
Flores did get off the island once. By chance, he and three Rasta friends were aboard a ferry that was hijacked in April 2003. He said he hadn't planned to leave, but quickly accepted his circumstances and was ready to start a new life in South Florida.Fate intervened.
The ferry ran out of fuel, and Cuban authorities captured the hijackers. Three were executed after summary trials. Flores wasn't charged.

Black Jesus

Good article below by a Jamaican columnist, may open a few eyes about who the so-called Jesus Christ really was. I and I know that Jesus Christ is just a English name and was not HIS real name.

One thing about the article we have to watch out for though is that there is an error when he mentions Haile Selassie I and forms the sentence as if His name is Jah Jah, Haile Selassie I. For Rasta, Haile Selassie is NOT Jah. Jah is the Creator, Supreme Being, Jahweh, Allah, God. And Haile Selassie is Jah Spirit in Human Flesh in Kingly Character. Just as Yashua was Jah Spirit in Human Flesh as Savior. So JAH RASTAFARI is the origin of everything in this world and Ras Tafari Haile Selassie I is a HUMAN created in Jah image and likeness who is the KING OF KINGS LORD OF LORDS CONQUERING LION OF THE TRIBE OF JUDAH who opened the Seven Seals. I hope this makes it clear for the hungry souls.

http://www.jamaica-gleaner.com/gleaner/20060416/cleisure/cleisure3.html

Black Jesus
published: Sunday | April 16, 2006
Jamaican Gleaner

Orville W. Taylor, Contributor

ON WEDNESDAY, Donald 'Zekes' Phipps was convicted of the brutal mutilation and murder of two men who were his associates. The details of the evidence make one cringe but I better stop here because 'cock mouth kill cock'.

Still, as ghastly as that crime was, just imagine what Jesus of Nazareth went through some 2,000 years ago. He was betrayed by one of the 12 closest men to him. Then he was given to the oppressive Roman invaders, scourged, publicly tortured, made to wear a wreath made of 'cooku makka' (thorns) then placed on what an innocent child described as a plus sign.

As he suffered for hours at the request of the Jewish mob who chose not to 'spare him' but to 'spear him,' he forgave them even though they chose 'Ba-robbas' over him.

Every Easter as we look for signs of the physic nut bleeding or the egg white giving up prophesy, we sit and watch the same films about the execution of Jesus, while eating bun and cheese. It is intriguing that people watch the same movie over and over although they know exactly how it is going to end because they have seen, heard and read about it since their infancy.

THE REAL JESUS

Yet, I have wondered since my teenage years, how could one man take so much punishment? After watching Alex Haley's classic, Roots as the slave masters beat the skin off ultra-black Kunta Kinte, I became even more unconvinced that the wimpy-looking fellow with the groomed long hair and flawless light skin was the real Jesus.

None of those portraits looked like a man who was born in a feeding trough, chopped wood, walked for miles in thin sandals, rode a donkey without a saddle and was strong enough to walk into a temple packed like the arcade and kick over stalls. Then, the scriptures said that he left home at 12. How many white kids do you know do those things?

With that in mind, the idea of a Black Jesus became attractive and so despite the protestations of Elder Taylor, who saw my theory as sheer blasphemy, I pursued the idea.

Well, the evidence is that the Pharaohs who were ruling Egypt during the epoch of Moses were black. These are described in the ancient texts as Cushites and anthropological research support this.

Thus, given that they were black, is it not logical that Joseph with the coat of many colours, and Moses, both of whom passed for Egyptian, must have looked like them?

Furthermore, Matthew 2:13-15 indicate that the infant Jesus was taken by Mary and Joseph into Egypt to hide until Herod's death. Tell me, since Egypt and Israel are so geographically close, don't you think that if he were white someone would have likely said: 'Ku di likkle white pickney!'?

They were all able to blend in because they looked like Egyptians.

But even more persuasive than religious conviction and sociological theorising is what is widely accepted as irrefutable proof of biological origin and kinship: DNA evidence.

For years, I had maintained like Professor Josef Ben-Jochannan, that the ancient Jews were not white but became lighter skinned due to the incursions of the Greeks and Romans.

Well, drop dead now! There is a tribe in Southern Africa called the Lemba, who, despite being scores of miles away from the Middle East, have DNA that shows them to be more conclusively from that region than many of the European and American Jews.

This group seemed to have left ancient Israel around 720 BC when the Assyrians captured Samaria and exiled the 10 tribes which comprised the northern Kingdom of Israel. According to recent research by anthropologist Tudor Parfitt, the folklore of the Lemba suggests that they are.

Some of their words are remarkably Hebrew-like and they maintain traditions of not eating pork, not mixing milk and meat, ritual purification of women after menstruation, and circumcision of men. Even more amazing is their ethnic symbol, which is a Star of David with the Elephant of Judah.

The Lemba expressly forbid men marrying outside of the tribe but may allow women to marry into it. This sanction has effectively kept the tribe relatively free of 'Gentile' watering-down of their blood.

In contrast, modern white-looking Jews take their Jewish status from their mothers and have had much inter-racial mixing as they travelled from country to country while in exile until the state of Israel was established after World War II.

DID NOT WANT US TO KNOW

Yet, in the Bible, all ancestry is traced along the patriline. Remember, nowhere in the Bible does it say Mary begat whomever. All the 'begatting' was by men.

So, follow the logic! If the same scientific DNA evidence that has been used to positively identify perpetrators and convict them says that these 'Blackie Tuttus' are from the original stock of Jews, then Moses, Joseph, Jacob, David, Solomon and Jesus were all black.

So then, one does not have to be a Rastafarian to accept that it is not implausible that Jah Jah, Haile Sellassie I, was a descendant of David.

However, some people like to maintain that it is really not relevant whether Jesus was black. Sorry to say, I disagree because obviously somebody did not want us to know.

By the way, my colleague who 'I am Borin' is upset at my opposition to Portia's forcing of clergy on boards.

In defence of his position he refers to 'Rastafarianism.' It's a pity - a veteran journalist of 30 years should know that Rastas reject the offensive 'ism' in favour of Rastafari. Such is the danger of religious hegemony.

Dr. Orville Taylor is senior lecturer in the department of sociology, psychology and social work at the University of the West Indies, Mona.

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

A Movie in the Making on The Wailers

does anybody else think that the name Black Beatles not worthy of The Wailers or is it me? I mean, the Beatles was the Beatles and the Wailers were the Wailers; why try to call one band by another band's name to make it seem as great as the other. The Wailers are extraordinary enough, why need to liken it to another band?


http://www.jamaica-gleaner.com/gleaner/20060808/ent/ent3.html

Presenting The Black Beatles
published: Tuesday | August 8, 2006
Jamaica Gleaner

Howard Campbell

Screenwriter John Dixon has dreams of honouring the multi- talented group The Wailers. - Contributed

AN AFRICAN American fan's obsession with The Wailers has inspired him to write a screenplay on reggae's most famous group.

The Black Beatles is the title of a screenplay by John Dixon, a self-described 'amateur and novice screenwriter' who lives in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. Earlier this year, the 37-year-old Dixon launched a website (black beatles.com) to help shop his idea to Hollywood.

Dixon told The Gleaner recently that the script has been five years in the making. He stressed that The Black Beatles is not just another Bob Marley and The Wailers story.

"What makes my project stronger is it is not another documentary, which I personally feel there are too many," he said. "The Black Beatles script is part fictional and dramatised to make the film more interesting."

Floating around

Talk about Bob Marley and Wailers films has been floating around for several years. At one time, Warner Brothers was in the running to produce a major budget Marley bio-pic and recently there was talk of another Marley project with Academy Award winner Jamie Foxx in the lead role.

Dixon said he deliberately stayed away from making Marley - who was the group's chief songwriter - the centre of attraction.

"I focus on all of The Wailers, especially Peter and Bunny and other band members such as (Aston) 'Familyman' Barrett and Constantine 'Vision' Walker," he said. "With all due respect to Bob Marley, I want the film to show that Peter and Bunny were just as talented."

The Wailers were formed in Kingston during the early 1960s, recording a series of ska hits for Studio One. They went on to become a successful reggae group that scored cutting-edge songs for producer Lee 'Scratch' Perry.

After recording two albums (Catch A Fire and Burnin') for Island Records, Tosh and Bunny Wailer left the group in late 1973 to pursue solo careers. Marley died from cancer in Miami in May 1981, while Tosh was murdered at his St. Andrew home in 1987.

Bunny Wailer, now 58, continues to record and tour.

Marley had the most success of the trio during the 1970s when roots-reggae had its biggest impact. Yet, the music never found a mass audience among African Americans.

Dixon, however, has been drawn to reggae's rebellious message since he was 12 years old. In addition to The Wailers, he says he listened to South African Lucky Dube, British band Steel Pulse and Buju Banton. Getting his story of The Wailers on screen, he says, would be the ultimate tribute to one of popular music's outstanding groups.

Book: The Discography Of Jamaican Music

On this link you can find:

"The most comprehensive discography of Jamaican music ever published. Widely accepted as the 'bible' for Jamaican music research the new, 2nd edition documents over 38,000 recordings in more than 500 data pages with over 9,000 new titles and many thousands of additional corrections, revisions and enhancements. Available now in two different media formats: as a book and as a Windows PC software application CD-Rom. "

http://www.nghthwk.com/RKR/?pgVar=rkrPic


An excellent resource for Jamaican music lovers and researchers! Forward On !

New Book: Linton Kwesi Johnson's Poetry

http://www.rockpaperscissors.biz/index.cfm/fuseaction/current.press_release/project_id/281.cfm


Linton Kwesi Johnson - Mi Revalueshanary Fren The Poet’s Words as Music: Reggae Poet Linton Kwesi Johnson’s American Book Debut, Mi Revalueshanary Fren

“More than nearly any other contemporary English-language poet… Linton Kwesi Johnson writes poems that make us sing with a voice that mingles our intimate own with a stranger’s, the poet’s, intimate own,” writes novelist Russell Banks in the introduction to Mi Revalueshanary Fren, Johnson’s book of poetry available domestically in the U.S. for the first time on September 01, 2006. “What we happen to see on paper… merely cues our ears and mouths,” writes Banks, “and… we hear music and sing a song not of our own making.”

LKJ—as his fans call him—is known for his activist “reggae poetry” set to song, first recorded on the 1978 seminal Dread Beat An’ Blood. But few Americans have had the chance to see these inherently-musical words on paper. In the U.K., Johnson became the first Black poet and the second living poet to be included in Penguin Books’ iconic Modern Classics series. Mi Revalueshanary Fren published by Ausable Press is Johnson’s long-awaited book debut in America. It will be released with a companion CD of LKJ reading select poems without musical accompaniment; except the rhythm of his words, of course. "I always have a bass line at the back of my mind when I write," says Johnson.

You can hear it in the poem Dread Beat An Blood: “brothers and sisters rocking / a dread beat pulsing fire / burning.” You can hear it in Reggae Sounds: “Shock-black bubble-doun-beat bouncing / rock-wise tumble-doun sound music / foot-drop find drum, blood story / bass history is a moving / is a hurting black story.” Johnson’s choice of language and his coming of age among the Black Panthers is united into a new form of poetry.

As recently as 1982, The Spectator (the oldest continuously published magazine in English) wrote that the Jamaican patois and phonetic spelling used by Johnson “wreaked havoc in schools and helped to create a generation of rioters and illiterates.” When Bob Marley met Johnson in London, he asked why he was so militant. Time has shown that LKJ and the Black Power movement of which he was a part helped beckon in a new era for Blacks in Britain. Last year Johnson was voted #22 in a poll of the top 100 Black Britons of all times.

"There's no such thing as bad English: there's English and ways of speaking it,” proclaims Johnson. “A lot of early poets would have been writing in local dialects; was Chaucer standard English, or Robbie Burns?”

LKJ was born in a rural Jamaican town called Chapelton in 1952. His grandparents on both sides were peasant farmers. As a child, he could hear the drums coming from the hills and the rumble of the sound systems that would set up dances a couple of miles away from his home. “I didn’t discover music,” Johnson declares. “I was born with music, from the time I heard my heart beating.”

Johnson’s mother immigrated to Britain in 1962 just before Jamaican independence and at age 11 he joined his mother in Brixton. Though he adjusted to his new home, it did not fit “the picture-book idea one has of the mother country.” “We were the children of immigrants, brought to England to do the work that the White working class didn’t want to do,” Johnson explains. “We were not supposed to have higher aspirations.”

Driven by a mission to overcome the poverty handed to him and with a keen critique of race relations in Britain, Johnson emerged as an outspoken poet; first performing with drummers in the vein of the Last Poets, and then with a full reggae band. But he was a poet before he was a recording artist.

“Language is about identity, and when I began to write in verse, I knew I wanted to use the kind of language that could best convey the experiences I wanted to articulate and I knew that was not going to be the rarefied language of classical English,” Johnson explained to a Scottish newspaper. “For me, one of the defining characteristics of poetry is authenticity of voice and my natural voice is the ordinary spoken Jamaican language.”

LKJ’s authenticity and unique voice has made him well respected in the alternative poetry scene in the U.K. and worldwide. Recently Johnson has been the featured poet at such prestigious poetry events as the Poetry Olympics at Royal Albert Hall in London, the Esplanade Festival in Singapore, the Kilkenny Arts Festival in Ireland, the International Poetry Festival of Medellin in Colombia, and Jamaica’s Calabash Literary Festival which hosted LKJ and the acclaimed Amiri Baraka. In 2005, Johnson took part in a symposium at Georgetown University with Derek Walcott before flying to Los Angeles to give the annual Jean Burden Poetry reading.

In addition to making fans of reggae poetry for two and a half decades, Johnson created the decisive 10-part radio series on Jamaican popular music, From Mento to Lovers Rock, on BBC Radio 1 in 1982. He has also worked as a TV journalist and runs his own record label, LKJ Records. A debut live recording was nominated for a Grammy. Several of his recordings continue to sell steadily worldwide, converting new generations from France to Japan to the meter and rhyme of “the world's first reggae poet.”

Mi Revalueshanary Fren features 39 of LKJ’s poems, divided into three decades beginning in the ’70s. Whether performing with a full band or doing a poetry reading, LKJ sums it up simply, "It's words that I'm about." And for many fans and newcomers, whether of his music or his poetry, Mi Revalueshanary Fren offers the first opportunity to absorb those words on their own.