By Emmanuel Mwendwa

It is believed music is a ‘reflection of the environment wherein people live, rather than an independent force, which creates situations’. This truth holds at least in regard to development of reggae music.

From its onset, the genre’s pioneer artistes composed confrontational lyrics and in some instances subtly stinging. The rise of Black Consciousness in Africa and the Diaspora — between mid 1950s and late 1960s — gradually metamorphosed into a ‘silent’ evolution, which propelled the rise of reggae, as a major force and protest music.

A forceful impetus driven by the genre’s high priests Joe Higgs, Nesta Bob Marley, Peter Tosh (all deceased), Winston Rodney aka Burning Spear, had in early 1970s thrust music into Black Nationalism and human rights struggle mainstream.

Almost overnight, fighting for the underprivileged and providing a voice for the voiceless became trendy. These artistes used their lyrics to champion the cause for equal rights and justice for all. Their mince-no-words lyrics took the role of a vehicle, rallying authorities to address myriad socio-economic challenges among the poor.

In subsequent years, roots reggae served as a window-like experience, through which the world could peep into dark side of ghetto life. More like the ghetto scenario, as reflected in artiste Don Carlos’ mellow, thought-provoking song Crucial Situation as he sings: "…little fatherless children have nothing to eat, trying hard to survive hunger and poverty…"

Peter Tosh believed his mission on earth was "… to bring people of the world closer to realities they live with but which are often clouded by day-to-day hassles of life..."

Doom

Marley was more explicit in his best seller hit Redemption Song, where he sings about the need to "…emancipate yourself from mental slavery…none but ourselves can free our minds... some say its just a part of it but we’ve got to fulfill the book..."

But after death of the two key proponents – Marley (1981) and Tosh (1987), pundits began to predict doom, pointing at imminent ‘death’ of roots reggae sub-genre. The 1980s heralded an era of commercialisation of reggae, resulting in the emergence of lovers-rock and dancehall rhythms. These dwelt less on militant, hard-hitting lyrics and focused on ‘softer’ themes – exploring the joys and pain triggered by love and relationships.

Almost overnight, the lovers-rock tunes appealed and struck a chord amongst conventional pop and disco audiences who could not relate to the combative lyrics. Close on heels of lovers-rock, was the bouncy ragamuffin style, yet another significant offshoot of the Afro-Caribbean rooted genre. Its entry into the burgeoning scene was dubbed the ‘Second Age of Reggae’.

Whereas the circuit had been dampened by the deaths of Marley and Tosh, ragamuffin was seen as a shot in the arm, promptly shoving the genre back into showbiz limelight.

Ragga styles

This fusion of ‘diluted’ reggae beats, American hip hop and rap songs packaged as ‘ragga’ edged into global charts, gaining rapid prominence. Its forerunners — such as Shabba Ranks alongside Shaggy and Sean Paul — rose to the top of international charts.

But for most ‘old-school’ enthusiasts, this development spelt apparent doom for consciousness-driven roots reggae.

Yet watching last month’s Serve Jah Concert headlined by Jepther McClymont aka Luciano, roots reggae still thrives albeit as an underground force. The prolific composer, widely regarded as ‘Jah Messenger’, symbolises a new generation of militant artistes – perhaps signifying his evident commitment to bring back good old roots reggae into the scene. Some of the songs he performed — including Give Praise, Never Give Up, Serve Jah, Silver and Gold, Sweep Over My Soul, It’s Me Again Jah and rendition of Marley’s single Jah Live — evoked memories of spirituality abound in ‘conscious’ reggae songs.

During a brief chat, Luciano reiterated his vision to consistently compose message-laden lyrics. "Reggae is music and much more, it is like a fine-tuned rhythm, expressive of a poor man’s cry", he asserted.

The artiste conceded he broke into the scene when it was more fashionable to embrace the new-wave dancehall and ‘ragga’ styles. But he opted to go against the grain, tapping into classic roots reggae, giving it a booster shot — determined to prove it still pays to explore cultural and spiritual lyrical themes.

"There’s been a lot of confusion going on, like a big tree growing and another small tree springs up beside the tree. I can’t stand one tree starving another. If you’re not careful, the roots of the tree can be overcrowded by this variation of dance and in lots of up-tempo beats; people are more into dance in the music rather than the message", he philosophises.

His candid sentiments project Luciano as a revivalist of the good old roots reggae rhythms. In essence though, he stands out as a conscious, articulate artiste and composer, keen on bringing back core values associated with roots reggae.