my son has "discovered" reggae. so, like any decent dad, i've dug into the vault and hauled all my peter tosh, wailers, pablo moses, and bob marley out into the harsh light of day for a rehashing by the next generation. listening to them again after such a long time they appear "fresh" while also being rich with associations and memories of days and relationships, and places long past. happily i've had the pleasure of listening to some really decent rich music as i've gone through my own rediscovery of these old "friends".
my favourite reggae musician by far was linton kwesi johnson . linton was described as a dub poet and somehow that appealed to me. i imagined that i'd hear music that linked the elemental dub bass beat alongside some righteous words. turns out i was very close to the intuitive mark.
my fave lkj tune by far was - and still is - street 66 off the very first reggae album i bought entitled bass culture. bass culture came out in 1980 and featured the powerful politicized words of linton alongside some equally powerful musicians.
read linton's words and feel the burning force pouring from his heart and mind.
the room was dark
dusk howling softly 6 o'clock
charcoal light
the fine sight
was moving black
the sound was music mellow steady flow
and man son mind just mystic red, green, red, green
your scene
no man would dance but leap and shake
that sharp through feeling right
shape that sound
tumbling down
making movement, ruff enuff
cos when the music met i-tops
i felt the sting, knew the shock, yeah, had to do and ride the rock
outta dis rock shall come a greener riddim
even more dread than what the breeze of glory bred
vibrating violence is our own move
rocking with green rhythm
the drought and dry root out
the mighty poet i roy was on the wire
weston did a skank and each man laughed feeling irie, dread i
street 66, the said man said
any policeman come here will get some righteous, raasclot licks
yeah mon, whole heapa licks
ours beat, the scene moving right
when all on a sudden
bam, bam, bam, a knocking 'pon the door
"who is dat?", asked weston, feeling right
"open up, it's the police, come on, open up"
"what address do you want?"
"number 66, come on, open up"
weston, feeling high, replied, "yes, this is street 66, step right in and
take some licks."
here's "street 66":
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