David Rodigan

[applause]

Benji B

How are you doing, sir?

David Rodigan

Ladies and gentlemen, thank you so much. This is a very special night for me. Thank you to Fabric. Thank you to Red Bull and Benji and John and Ricky and Mark who said, “Roders, we need to do this.” Thank you to each and every one of you for being here. I hope you’ll enjoy the story.

BENJI B

Should that have been Sir David ‘Ram Jam’ Rodigan? You were always a sir to us before anyway but for those of you that didn’t know, David Rodigan received an MBE from the Queen this year. I think that gets him another round of applause.

[applause]

You were always Sir David ‘Ram Jam’ before you were officially part of royalty now.

David Rodigan

It was an honour, obviously, but more importantly it was, I believe, the respect shown to the music which I’ve spent my whole life playing and loving. I think the indication from the government and the Queen was that this music has become so much a part of our culture and I’ve been broadcasting it for over 30 years, so I believe that the award was as much for the music as it was for me. I’d like to think that anyway. I’m certain that that is the case. It is indeed an honour. Prince Charles actually said to me when I approached him, he asks you a couple of questions, he said, “Do you really love this music?” I said, “Yeah.” He said, “So do I.” He said, “How did you fall in love?”

[laughter]

No, seriously. He said, “I love Jamaica.” I think it would be hard not to like Jamaica. He said, “How did you fall in love with it?” I said, “In the ’60s.” Then he asked me, “What time is the show on?” I plugged the show and said 11 o’clock. The fact is that we’re hearing the stories in the press about Prince Harry and his visit to Jamaica. I think anyone who goes to that island will be struck by the music. Particularly back in the day when the music was incredibly melodic and soulful. I would always leave Jamaica with at least half a dozen songs in my head that I had to buy. In more recent times it’s more (imitates dancehall beat) ‘dum-dum, dum-dum’ but in those days it was much more melodic. I’m talking about the ’70s. Harry apparently came back and started buying reggae records, if we’re to believe what we read in the press. I’m sure that’s true because reggae is infectious. As far as I’m concerned, it’s a fever. There is no known antidote. I’ve had the fever all my life. [laughs]

BENJI B

Talking of which, I grew up listening to, like so many people in the room, you on both Capital and Kiss and, of course, on untold cassettes of you at famous clashes. Your work spans so many different generations that people in this room might have come into contact with it at different points in their life. Can you just clear it up for us? How long have you been broadcasting and how long have you been DJing at this point?

David Rodigan

I started broadcasting professionally in 1978. Maths, simple maths, tells you that it’s 34 years. DJing in my bedroom and house parties and youth clubs and school discotheques from 1967 when I was 16. I remember playing in the school disco a song called “Dry Acid” by The Upsetters, in 1969. It blew the place apart. That was the first time I ever experienced a public forward. If the term “pull-up” had been invented then I would have said, “Pull up,” but it wasn’t. It was on the school sound system, the public address system. I think if anyone’s in this room who has an obsession, and probably many of you do with music, you’ll know that… I remember Roger Scott who was my mentor at Capital Radio. I just thought Roger Scott epitomized, broadcasting because apart from his passion for Bruce Springsteen, his passion for music enabled him to say little and yet say so much about songs. I always remember him describing how he would play records in his front room and look out behind the curtains to see if anyone on the street passing was taking any notice of what he was playing. I used to do the same thing, only I did it in my bedroom looking in the backyard to see if any of the kids were taking any notice of what I was playing. It’s that feeling you have, and you know this, Benji, as a DJ yourself, of wanting to share something that you think is so precious and so important. That’s what I’ve always loved to do. It led to DJing by default really publicly because I was working as a young actor and I didn’t think that I would ever get a job on radio as a DJ. But there was an audition at BBC Radio London and I ended up with that show in 1978.

BENJI B

You’re talking about working as an actor. You studied as an actor, right? You went to drama school.

David Rodigan

Yes. I studied economics for a year when I left, after I did my A levels because everyone told me, “You should do something with your life. You can’t be an actor.” Well, DJ wasn’t even considered… I have to point out actually, with all due respect to any DJ in the room right now, that being a DJ in the ’60s was not terribly cool at all. In fact, a DJ was often a nerdish guy in the corner with the records. “Get Roders to come and play because he’s got the records.” But why do you to want to be a DJ? Because if you’re a DJ you can’t check girls, you can’t dance with anyone. You’re stuck in a corner with a bunch of records. DJing has evolved now. It’s funny because, “Oh, you’re a DJ.” There was a time when it really wasn’t that cool to be a DJ as such. But I was a record collector and so were many of my friends. It was about records. Our world revolved around music. I didn’t enjoy studying economics, I wanted to work in a theatre. I was offered a place at the Rose Bruford College where I did a three-year drama and teaching course. I thoroughly enjoyed the teaching practices across the three years. I was very tempted and I almost took a position to teach drama at Orpington Boys School. That was in 1974. In that same summer I’d done a dramatization of Yevtushenko’s Zima Junction. I presented it myself, funded it myself with a little theatre in St. Martins Lane. As a result of that presentation an actor manager from the North of England auditioned me and offered me a part as an acting ASM. You were an actor, you were an assistant stage manager. You did small parts. You did everything else, dogs, bodywork, costumes, you name it. That was how I started, working in repertoire theatres in the North of England. But I was still collecting this music. I remember being a deck chair attendant in Hyde Park in the summer of 1970 and going home and listening to U-Roy records in my bedroom. I knew it had become an obsession with me and I was fascinated by the sounds that were created. Of course, it was a very different world then. You had to do a lot of detective work to figure out how these records were made, where they came from, and who was this artist, who was this producer, who was this band leader. You were dependent upon using your ears, your eyes to look at record labels and just try to figure things out. There was no Internet. You couldn’t phone Jamaica. There was hardly anything written. I remember on the Melody Maker, they actually did a piece on reggae. I remember sitting in my bedroom, cutting it up, and making it into a record sleeve, the whole article. This is how precious… Someone had actually bothered to write about this music. That’s how important it was to me. That’s how I started DJing and that’s how I started broadcasting.

BENJI B

When was your first pilgrimage to Kingston?

David Rodigan

January 1979, never ever forget it. The first night I spent in a place called Edgewater out by Portmore. Every mosquito in the region just said, “We’re going to have this guy.”

[laughter]

When I woke up the next morning I was covered in mosquito bumps and bites. This bus came past. It was a bus on the street selling bulla cake, cheese, and juice. I stood out in this burning sun. I was in Jamaica. The first place I went to was Channel One, Maxfield Avenue. I saw Earl Zero outside Channel One. That evening the pilgrimage, Western Kingston, I mean Channel One is in Maxfield Avenue, Kingston 12. Next region is Kingston 11, Kingston 10, Kingston 13, Trench Town, Bob Marley, Waterhouse, Kind Tubby Studio. I can’t tell you what it was like to walk up the side and push that gate. It was dark; dogs were barking. I went into the inner sanctum and there he was, the man who I’d wanted to meet more than anybody else because he epitomized dub music. As far as I was concerned, almost single-handedly, I know others did so much for it, but when he touched the board, it was for me magical. I got to meet the king. He was so cool. I remember saying to him and Prince Jammy, because Jammy was his assistant engineer at the time, I said, “I’ve come to cut some dubplates.” Jammy knew of me. So Tubby said, “Okay. There’s the price. There’s the rates up on the wall. Let’s start.” He pressed play on the multi-track, a four- track. This rhythm started and he looked at me. I said, “No, thanks.” He played another one and he looked at me, Jammy just looked at the floor. Tubby’s, “The clock’s running. We’re going to cut dub. What are you going to do?” I said, “No, I don’t like that one.” He played another one. I said, “No, I don’t like that one either.” He looked at Jammy and they both slightly smiled. I didn’t get it at the time. So Tubby leaned back and took these keys out and he threw it to this young lad and said, “Open that cupboard.” This multi-track came out. Tubby reeled it up and pressed play. This is what I heard. I said to him, “Yes. Yeah. I want to cut that.” I said, “Who’s it by?” He said, “It’s a new singer produced by Yabby You, Vivian Jackson. The singer’s name is Michael Hanes, but they’re calling him Michael Prophet.” I said, “Can I cut that?” He said, “Yes.” I got my money out. This is the original dubplate which has only left my house on two occasions until tonight. From 1979 it’s a King Tubby original dubplate master. He was very fastidious about sleeves and artwork. I’ve got him to sign it. This, if I may, is the dub. He cut it straight away. In those days the dub was cut. Dub came about because DJs in sound systems were so obsessed with the music that they wanted things that no one else had. They drove these things forward. We, the DJs, with all due respect to the musicians, we drove this thing forward because we wanted stuff that no one else had because we were so obsessed with the music. The engineers had to find ways of satisfying our demand for music. A four-track, the plate cut as it played. He mixed on the four-track. This is a photograph of him actually at his control tower, at the board. That’s one of the first ever King Tubby dub albums. It is legendary. It’s him and Jammy and he mixed it. You can hear the counting.

(music: Michael Prophet – King Tubby dubplate)

You can hear already that he’s giving me a different mix to the one that would come out because he’s mixing it from the four-track. As it came to the end of the vocal, of course, he would just simply scroll, rewind the tape, and then begin again. There was no hesitation; you automatically cut a dub of the vocal. You had to have a dub so your DJ in the sound system would DJ and chat over it. Also, you could just play it as an instrumental. It went straight to the instrumental and it just scrolled like this. He’s cutting live now again.

[music continues]

If I may, Benji, just spin it forward while I remember because I don’t want to forget. There’s so many things to remember and so many stories to tell. I can’t tell them all. While they come to me I’d just like to share them with you. 1985, when I cut another dub with King Tubby and this is it.

BENJI B

I don’t know about you, I feel like a little kid right now.

David Rodigan

He changed his artwork. Let’s pass that around so that people can… please handle it with great care. It’s a treasured possession. You can see the attention to detail on his plates and how fastidious he was. He was meticulous, by the way. There was no smoking in the studio. If he wasn’t there and people lit up, they would hear him approaching and the place would go, “He’s coming. He’s coming.” He would walk in, “Somebody’s smoking in here.” “No, Mr. Tubbs.” It was that diligence. It was a very serious place. It was a workplace. He created this new sleeve, Waterhouse was also referred to as Firehouse because there were all sorts of problems in that region. Houses were burned down and so on. Again, being an avid collector I got him to sign this. When the music had changed, and some people say that the advent of techno reggae or digital reggae was the demise of it. There are still people in Jamaica who say, “Rodigan, you should never have played ‘Sleng Teng’ on the radio. That was a disgrace to Jamaican music.” I remember Mr. Bradshaw, Sunny Bradshaw, he approached Barry G and I in the hotel of the Pegasus one evening and told us point blank, he was a band leader and a leader of the Jamaican Musicians Union, he said we were a disgrace. We should never have played “Sleng Teng.” It was deeply offensive to Jamaican musicians. It should never have been played. “Sleng Teng,” as I’m sure you all know, was the advent of what we now call digital reggae. The fact that this could be made on a computer, not by human being. We all know [imitates “Slent Teng” bassline] “ta-ta-ta-ta,” where it came from, a Casio music box. A boy called Noel Davey took it to Jammy’s and Jammy cut a dub with Tenor Saw. [sings] “How water walk go a pumpkin belly / Who asks me dat huh me ole time granny.” And that was a dubplate that he voiced to go to the country. They tried to revoice it and they couldn’t. So what came out was, [imitates bassline]”ta-ta-ta-ta,” that was Jammy’s. Over at Tubby’s there was a counteraction, if you’d like. Tubby’s found some musicians called the Firehouse Crew, a young Christian group, who were experimenting with synthesizers. Remember, this is a long time ago. So this was one of the first examples of techno or digital, computerized reggae, as they called it. If you think “Sleng Teng” was big, this was big too. This is by Anthony Red Rose. The song is called “Tempo.” When I was cutting the dub in ’85, I said to Tubby, “Tubby, can you put the tone button on the front of the dub?” Because you have that tone button echoed by Tubby, you knew that was a Tubby dub. Him and Fatman, the assistant engineer, he said, “You mean this, like this?” He pressed the tone button, Tubby’s tone button on my dub.

(music: Anthony Red Rose – “Tempo (King Tubby dubplate)”)

“It sounds sweeter with an echo chamber / Don’t you know we are the danger. Tempo.” When this tune played in Western Kingston, I can’t describe the feeling when you heard this playing from a sound system, never mind on the radio. Then, of course, the vocal came to an end and he looked at me as if to say… I said, “Yeah, of course, the dub.” They mixed this dub of the vocal. And for me, this was digital music at its finest.

(music: Anthony Red Rose – “Tempo Dub (King Tubby dubplate)”)

[comments over music] Just while we’re on this subject, I think my last picture, penultimate picture is of this man, Augustus Pablo, because something very significant happened when he met King Tubby. They created that album called King Tubby Meets Rockers Uptown, which I’m sure, everyone will remember. It epitomized what this music was about for so many of us, the fact that you could have dub created in this way. I don’t need to play that instrumental, I’m sure. Everyone knows it. If I may just play two more examples of how a dubplate can come. I was at a dance in the Q Club in Paddington one night and Jah Screw rushed in and said, “I just voiced this. Play it.” When a producer comes to you with that look in his eye, you just play it.

(music: Jah Screw – “Here I Come (Broader Than Broadway) dubplate”)

Drum & bass dubplate cutting instrumental music, drum & bass music, echo chamber music, rapping. The whole concept of someone talking in time over a rhythm, as far as I was concerned, had origins to a degree in American music, yes, but really the daddy for the mould were the Jamaican DJs like King Stitt, Count Machuki, and this man who was so revered by 1974, ’75, ’76 that I swear to god he could have run for prime minister in Jamaica, Big Youth. This album Screaming Target was truly legendary. I think what epitomized what he did was this track I’m going to play now which is called “Waterhouse Rock” and it’s over a Joe Gibbs rhythm. He used to DJ live on the sound systems before he started making records. And this kind of sums him up.

(music: Big Youth – “Waterhouse Rock” dubplate)

[comments over music] Are you ready for the breakdown? Here it comes. [holds up record sleeve] I love the puffy he is leaning on in his front room. He used to DJ for us a sound called Tipatone. When Tipatone’s strung up you better back off, or King Tubby’s strung up, ‘cause all these, like U-Roy, I-Roy, U-Roy is the DJ for Dickies Dynamic before he came over to King Tubby’s, they learned their craft by entertaining crowds live. If you can’t bust a dance in Jamaica on the mic in front of an audience, then forget it, you’re not going to the studio.

[music continues]

One last image. When I received the MBE, a dear friend of mine, Noel Hawkes, sent me something in the post. I couldn’t believe that someone kept this for so long. It’s my first ever public engagement as a radio DJ playing in the club. It was in High Wycombe in 1979, Radio London Capital Radio David Rodigan, [they spelled it] “Rudigan.” I mean, how priceless is that? “Tribal hot 100,” me? No. That was my first ever gig and I thank Noel Hawkes for that. I’m sorry if that link was too long, Benji, but they were just some stories I needed to tell.

BENJI B

Listen, there is no one that’s complaining in here right now.

[cheers / applause]

We just want to keep going. In those early years of visiting these legendary studios, I think before we leave that period because it’s such a magical period in the music, maybe you should talk about some other early interactions with artists like Sir ‘Coxsone’ Dodd and the legendary Studio One. I also want to talk about the first time that you got to meet Robert Nesta Marley as well, and also, of course Osbourne Roddick [AKA King Tubby] and people like that. Maybe we should talk a little bit about that before we move away from that era.

David Rodigan

I was very fortunate in going to Jamaica in those early times, late ’70s, early ’80s because it was such an exciting period in the music. I would say with all due respect to modern music, that some of the things that are missing from it is the identification created by analog recordings. The fact that music is now homogenized in such a way that it’s almost impossible to discover where Junior Gong voiced his latest tune ‘cause it could have been anywhere. But in those days, because it was analog and because musicians gathered together, “One, two, one,” and there was a sound that came from each studio so you knew, if you studied it enough, you’d figured out that was Duke Reid or that’s Coxsone, that’s Channel One, that’s Harry J, that’s Sylvan Morris engineering that. That’s Lee Perry when he build the Black Ark before he changed it up because you were slightly obsessive you would know those things. Obviously, hundreds and hundreds of thousands of collectors did. For me, to go to Harry J and meet Sylvan Morris who had been the pioneer for so much music when he was the resident engineer at Studio One, to go to Studio One and meet Coxsone Dodd when he was engineering himself. Bob Marley was lying in state and we were there listening to some old Bob Marley tracks. And Lone Ranger was voicing, “This a tribute to Bob Marley.” Bob Marley was lying in state, just half a mile up the road at the National Arena. I do consider myself to be very fortunate and very privileged to meet so many of these people, to meet Bunny Wailer coming out of Harry J’s studio and getting into his old Land Rover jeep. “There he is, Bunny Wailer,” you know? When you’re a fan, meeting the people that make the music is just so special. To climb the stairs at Treasure Isle, up those wooden stairs, that staircase, knowing that back in the day the liquor store was downstairs, Duke Reid had the speaker, so he would listen to what Tommy McCook was doing upstairs. If he didn’t like the sound of the rhythms, he’d sometimes come up there and famously let off a couple of shots in the wall to encourage the musicians. [laughs] This is fact. These things happened. I walked into the studio, “This one will inform, educate, and inspire.” Mikey Dread was voicing “Stepping Out Of Babylon,” and Marcia Griffiths is watching him, and Errol Brown was the engineer and I’m in the room. You just can’t believe that you’ve been given that privilege. I was given that privilege. I’m extremely grateful. The first time I ever met Bob Marley was, I saw him in a pub on Fulham Palace Road. That’s why when young bands say, “Oh, I can’t be doing with this touring.” I say, “You can’t be doing with the touring? Bob Marley and the Wailers performed in a pub called The Greyhound on Fulham Palace Road for next to nothing.” When the show was over, there was hardly any talking. They just performed and they blew the place apart. I was walking down Fulham Palace Road thinking, this is 1973, the Burning album had just come out, “At last I’ve seen Bob Marley.” And this enormous cloud of smoke came out of the shop doorway. I thought that shop was on fire. [laughs] When the smoke cleared there was Bob Marley on the end of a spliff, like 200 yards down the road from the Greyhound Pub with ‘Wire’ Lindo leaning on his guitar. You don’t get moments like that very often in life. I rushed up and gushed, “Since the days of ‘What’s New Pussycat,’ ‘One Love,’ ‘Simmer Down,’ I’m so glad to have met you.” He smiled and shook my hand. Next thing, this car screeched up. He said, “I’ve got to go.” Him and ‘Wire’ Lindo got into the car, the car pulled off down Fulham Palace Road and I stood there. He turned around and waved out the back window of the car to me. I mean, can you imagine what that’s like as a fan? That’s just amazing. Years later he was returning from Zimbabwe. If you haven’t seen the film, go and see the film Marley, two and a half hours. It’s like ten minutes. It’s priceless. I’m so glad I saw it in the cinema, but get it on DVD. I actually heard a clip of myself in the movie asking him a question because in 1980 he came back from Zimbabwe having performed for the independence celebrations and he was on a stopover unannounced in London. It was a Friday afternoon at Island Records and I was going up the stairs and he was coming down the stairs. I seized the moment. I just said, “Bob Marley, can you come to our radio show tomorrow night, please?” He looked at a couple of rasta elders and they nodded their agreement. A couple of managers looking like I shouldn’t have done this, and he came on the show. Before that, he said to me, “Do you want to come upstairs and listen to a new song I’ve just recorded?” I went upstairs. I was in the listening room at Island Records with Aston ‘Family Man’ Barrett and Bob Marley. He played this song from a cassette. At the end of the song he asked me what I thought. To be sitting in a room with Bob Marley, he’s asking your opinion on a song that he’s just recorded. I’ll have to play it, hang on. On a song that he’s just finished recording. I can’t really tell you how special that was. He said, “Okay. If you like it, if you like the mix,” which I did, he said, “I’ll play it for you tomorrow night.” He brought the tape to Capital Radio the following night. This is the song.

(music: Bob Marley – “Could You Be Loved”)

How special is that? To be in the studio on Capital Radio live and the last track of an hour interview was that.

[applause]

So, I’ve been very fortunate, incredibly fortunate to have visited the island so many times, to have met so many people. I actually watched Captain Sinbad voicing “51 Storm” with Little John, Jammy’s engineer. I mean, I could go on and on about instances. I’ve just been very fortunate to have been in the right place at the right time on more than one occasion.

BENJI B

Tell us about the very first time you were on the radio in Jamaica.

David Rodigan

That was 1983 because I’d gone on behalf of Capital Radio to record some special programs on the island. I invited a number of artists to JBC [Radio]. In fact, the security guard told me when I was leaving. He said, “Rodigan, we never see so much artists in here at one time.” I had them literally lined up. It was like a doctor’s surgery. I felt very honored that he’d said that. The fact that so many of them turned up, Ruddy Thomas, Derrick Harriott, Big Youth, it was amazing. The number one radio DJ at the time was Barry Gordon, Barry G the Boogeyman on JBC Radio One. He was a phenomenon, island wide, had the biggest audiences. No one had audiences like him before. He was a phenomenon. I asked him to do a report for Capital Radio which he duly did. He said to me, “I’d like to respond by inviting you to my show on Saturday night. You can do a report on British reggae.” I turned up at JBC Radio halfway through that Saturday night. At the end of the news he turned to me and said, “Let’s do a clash.”

[laughter]

“Ah, thank for the warning, Barry.” So, we did a clash. That was 8:00 pm. We were still clashing at 2:00 am. It was a six-hour clash. To this day, if you go to Jamaica and ask anyone about that clash, they’ll tell you about it. It became an annual event for a number of years. The most famous was referred to as the “Sleng Teng” clash in ’85. The next day we had a dance down in Belmont, in Peter Tosh’s town on the south coast. We were driving down through the hamlets and villages. All we heard was [imitates “Sleng Teng” bassline] “ta- na-na.” Like it was in a tape delay because those days it was cassette and tape and many parts of Jamaica did not have television so the radio was everything. It was the way of communicating. The hills and valleys, [sings] ”Take me over hills and the valleys,” when Luciano says that it was the truth. I remember being a wise guy, thinking I could drive from Montego Bay to Mandeville and I would just use a road map to get there. Wrong. Because on the road map, a B road to me is a B road. In Jamaica it’s a track. I ended up in Cockpit Country, thinking I’d never ever get there. Over hills and valleys, the heartland of Jamaica. I was there again at Easter with my wife and we drove deep into the heartland again, down into Westmoreland, it’s just paradise. It is beautiful. And, you know, cane cutters at 12 o’clock in the morning coming from the fields. You ever catch yourself moaning about your work or your job, and you see what they have to do and the conditions and the kind of pressure and heat. It’s the ups and the down of Jamaican lifestyle. I’m lost. I don’t know where I started now. I’m completely lost.

BENJI B

You were talking about Barry G.

David Rodigan

Oh yeah, Barry G at the clash. We were driving through the hills and valleys and down to the south coast. We just heard repeats of the cassettes of the show the night before. It was a baptism of fire, but we were both passionate about the music. We both revered the music. It was a joy to clash with him. We had dinner with our respective wives. We got together at Easter. His wife and my wife, the four of us, had dinner down in Jamaica. It was just wonderful, he’s back on top again. He’s got the number one radio show, he’s unstoppable. He’s come back on Mellow FM and he’s island-wide. He’s Barry Gordon.

BENJI B

In the years since then, you’ve definitely become recognized as a champion, a don, a master of the sound clash. If anyone needed any proof, you might have noticed there’s a sort of Champions League-esque trophy to my right which is what, David?

David Rodigan

That’s the World Clash Reset that took place at Easter Saturday night in Queens in Amazura in front of about 5,000 Jamaicans. There may have been some Americans in there as well but it was predominantly Jamaicans, certainly sound clash fanatics. For those of you not familiar with sound clash culture, it’s again an extension of this whole concept of wanting something that nobody else has got. They took it to the ultimate dimension when they started sound systems, started voicing dubs that were not only exclusive mixes in the way that that King Tubby mix was exclusive, but they had your name called. That meant you got the artist, not just the engineer, the artist to come to the studio and revoice his number one tune calling your name. That meant that you had an exclusive dub. That meant that you could seriously clash any contender. Sound system clashing started in the 1950s in Jamaica with sound systems like Duke Reid’s The Trojan, Coxsone’s Downbeat, Prince Buster’s Voice Of The People, trying to outdo each other with the quality of sound and exclusive recordings. In those days they weren’t even making records in Jamaica. They would go to America, they’d buy 7" singles or 78s, bring them back and scratch the label off. You didn’t know what they were playing. “Coxsone Hop” was actually “Call Of The Gator” by Willis Jackson but everyone thought it was “Coxsone Hop.” Already exclusivity was part of Jamaican culture. “I have this, you don’t know what it’s called, I scratched the label off.” Even in the ‘70s in Jamaican sound systems in London you’d pick up the record box, it was all scrubbed out. Just “Dukes” or something simple on there that they’d know what it was. This whole idea of cutting dubplates was an extension of this idea of a sound system, an enormous mobile discotheque setting itself up in a village square in the heartland of Jamaica somewhere and thousands of people coming to gather around and listen to the sound. The pride that the sound system owner would take with the sound and the way it sounded and the way it was tuned up, the box boys, the MCs, the selector, it was a team. The prestigious design of the speakers and their artwork, it was just the whole sound system culture, King Tubby’s Hometown Hi-Fi, the Chinese artwork that he created. It was just part of the whole experience of listening to sound in such a way that it was so powerful and moving. The fact that they had these metal horns, the kind of horns you’d see on a station platform, those would be the horns that were spitting out the treble. The idea of dubplate cutting then developed into dubplate clashing and having songs that no one else has. There’s been a thing called World Clash every year in New York for many years. They took a couple of years out and they did it as a reset this year. I clashed with a number of sound systems. The idea is that you come up with dubs that are completely exclusive to you. You have to have what’s known as customized dubs. You have to have some songs that are made only for that night, that can only be played that night and at no other time. One of the biggest forwards I got for the night was a dub by Ninja Man who had been in jail for three years on remand without charge. He finally got bail after three years and one month. I managed to speak to him the day he got bail. I said, “Do you want to voice?” He said, “Tell me where. Tell me when.” The next morning at 9:00 am he was voicing this dub. It was customized as I’d requested. There are a couple of offensive words in there but you have to bear with me. It was customized for the clash. When it’s customized it must name all your competitors. It must say what you’re going to do to them. If it doesn’t, it’s of no consequence. On the night in Amazura I drew for this in the second round and the forward was phenomenal. A, they couldn’t believe I’d gotten Ninja Man because he’d just come out of jail. The intro alone tells you he’s just come out of jail as you’re about to hear. Then he goes on to name the sounds that will die that night as a result of this customized dub. Bear with me. The great thing was that I could actually hear him voicing it because the people that I worked with, Henry Lewis down in Jamaica, he had his mobile phone on. He was on the other side of the board while Ninja Man was voicing. I could hear him voicing the dub. He did it in one take, one take, had been in jail for three years and one month, came out of jail the following morning and voiced this. He used a very famous hit of his called “Border Clash.” I’ll just cue it up. You’ll hear what he did. You can imagine the forward it got when you’ll hear it now.

(music: Ninja Man – “Border Clash (Rodigan dubplate)”)

[music stops] This is the World Clash. That was Ninja Man and that was, as you can imagine, a very exciting moment in the dance. I’d just like to play one other example of something that I would typically do. The idea is to have customized dubs but I always try to come with humor and a little twist. I would always try to think of something different and use announcements, a sort of bizarre scenario, a court room appearance by a judge and prosecutor, various scenarios that I’ve used over the years. I got the idea of a spoof that I could use for World Clash. This is it. I’m not going to introduce it because hopefully it will be self-explanatory. There were a lot of surprised faces in the audience that night.

BENJI B

This is from New York, right?

David Rodigan

This is from the World Clash in New York on Easter Saturday.

(music: Omar – “Dead Men Walking (Rodigan dubplate)” / applause)

BENJI B

We want to just get so much information about clash from you because there have been so many legendary moments that I want to personally ask you about. But you raised something interesting there about context and where you’re actually playing at the time because obviously that’s a reference to The Wire and you’re in New York. I want to ask you about two famous dubplates that I remember hearing about. One being the “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire” dubplate from, I think that was around 2002 or something.

David Rodigan

Yeah.

BENJI B

I remember it was at Ocean in Hackney, I think. It was like you versus Mighty Crown, Matternhorn. Tell us about the Chris Tarrant dubplate.

David Rodigan

Again, I just got the idea that I could do Who Wants to Be a Millionaire and use my opponents as the contestants. They had to come on stage and answer the questions and they could phone a friend. I think it was in Nottingham. It was UK Cup Clash. When the music started and Chris Tarrant started, the place just went crazy. No one could believe it. The problem was that Mighty Crown didn’t know what the hell it was all about because Who Wants to Be a Millionaire had not hit Japan. They kind of stood there like, “Yeah, what?” Meanwhile the place is going bonkers. I didn’t win but people still talk about that night and that moment. I always remember Chris Tarrant afterwards. He sent me a message and said, “I don’t know what the hell that was about but I hope it works for you love. God bless you, Chris Tarrant.” He did it with great vim and enthusiasm.

BENJI B

Amazing. Another dub I wanted to ask you about was the very famous Wyclef “Maria Maria” dub when he brought it to you personally.

David Rodigan

That was an amazing night. In 1999 World Clash, once again Amazura, New York, thousands of people. I remember because I’d done a gig in Boston that night, the following morning I was taking a coffee at the airport. My agent rushed up to me. He said, “You’ll never guess who won World Clash last night.” I said, “Jaro, Bass Odyssey?” He said, “No, Mighty Crown.” I said, “Are you serious?” He said, “Yeah, those Japanese kids. They won it.” They did. They absolutely annihilated all the competition because they’d actually been collecting dubs for years off and under the radar, again, like fanatics all over the world, like sound boys in Rome, in Berlin, in Zürich, all over the world, LA. They collected these dubs for years and had never played them. No one knew. They turned up. “Who are they? Mighty who? Who are these guys?” They just blew everyone out. There were all the Jamaican sounds dead in the water. That was November. The agency said, “We want to do a clash with you and them.” All my mates said, “No, you’re crazy. They’ll kill you. Don’t do it. You’re mad.” I said, “That’s exactly what I need to hear so I’ll do it.” It was in Hartford, Connecticut. It was an absolute road block. I’ll never forget it. It was ridiculous. In the heat of the clash Mighty Crown were hyped, they were world champions, unstoppable. Second, fourth or fifth round, I looked to the wings, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Beast, the bodyguard of Wyclef Jean was standing in the wings. He just went, [signals “Come here.”] Mighty Crown were playing so I walked over. I said, “What’s going on, Beast?” He took me off the side of the stage and drew this curtain. There was Wyclef in a big beaver hat and a big long coat, a false fur coat. I said, “Wyclef, what are you doing here?” He said, “How are you?” I said, “I’m fine. Great to see you.” He said, “Do you know what the number one record is in America?” I said, “I’ve got no idea.” He said, “It’s called ‘Maria Maria.’ It’s by G&B The Product and me and Carlos Santana.” I said, “Congratulations. Great. Terrific. Well done.” Because I didn’t know, I’d just landed. Typical of me, of course. Sometimes my radar doesn’t pick these things up. He said, “Yeah.” Then he opened the coat and he handed me the dubplate. He said, “That’s the plate to kill Mighty Crown. Play the second track.”

[laughter]

That’s the first time in my life that I’d ever played a dub blind. You always want to listen to a dub. This is slightly edited because obviously I don’t want to keep mentioning Mighty Crown in it. He said, “Just play it.” I went back onto the stage, it was my round. I pressed play on the dubplate. In reggae sound system culture you’ll hear people talk about “deep forward.” You’ve got forward in the dance, you’ve got a forward from the crowd. If you ever get a deep forward, it comes from the back because the real heads don’t stand at the front. They stand at the back. As Gregory Isaacs once said to me, “Rodigan, always stand near the exit because you never know what’s going to happen.”

[laughter]

The real heads don’t want to be seen to be desperate to see or watch anything. May I just say, ladies and gentlemen, John Masouri. He’s sitting to the right. He’s a pioneer for this music as a journalist. Would you please salute John Masouri.

[applause]

Thank you, John, for all you’ve done for the music as a journalist. Thank you. It was just one of those moments. The forward came from the back and it just spread like a tidal wave. I’ll never ever forget it. By the way now, Simon and Sami from Mighty Crown they’re very good friends of mine. We’re very close friends now. We didn’t know each other then. We’d hardly spoken. I saw the look on their faces when this thing played. Well, it was over. I’d defeated the world champions. It was really because of this.

(music: Santana feat. The product G&B – “Maria Maria (Rodigan dubplate)” / applause)

Once again, thank you to Mighty Crown who took that on the chin in such a sporting way. I salute them for all they’ve done for the music. Obviously, I edited out the bit where it mentions their execution. With all due respect, they are fans of the music just as we all are here tonight.

BENJI B

Do you ever get nervous before a clash now?

David Rodigan

Yes, of course. Incredibly nervous. There is nothing more nerve-wracking, apart from getting an MBE. I can assure you that was even more nerve-wracking than sound clashing because you’re going into the game and it’s very long. It starts at 11:00 midnight and it goes on ’till 5:00 am, five hours. You have to listen to every single dub that’s played. If you ever repeat anything that’s already been played, you’re immediately disqualified. You must play everything, it must have you name in it or it doesn’t count. You can be disqualified for that. You must be aware of what the competition is playing. An example of that is the clash with Bass Odyssey was what they call a “one for one” because as the evening progresses sounds are eliminated by public voting. I was in the one for one and it was the best of ten. I was three/nil down. Bass Odyssey are the iron fist of Jamaica. They’re one of the hardest sounds in the world to defeat. They’re almost unstoppable despite the fact that Squingy is no longer with them because he passed away. They are a feared sound. I was three/nil down in New York and New York’s their town. I just thought, “What am I going to do?” Fortunately, I managed to pull back and pull back. When I actually got back we were at five/five. Whoever scored the next plate won. I played… Shall I play the dubplate? I wasn’t going to play it but I will.

BENJI B

Is that a real question?

David Rodigan

I will. This is it. Big up Liverpool. You’ll know why when you hear it in just a second, big up Ken Dodd. This was voiced and you’ll know the time it was voiced from the intro and a band from Liverpool.

(music: Bob Andy – Rodigan dubplate)

That was my sixth tune and the forward was absolutely amazing. Thanks to Bob Andy, Janice from I-Anka Records is in the house tonight. Janice, so lovely to see you. Excuse me handpicking people like this, but Janice for all that you’ve done for Bob in his career, we love you and we thank you from the bottom of our hearts. Bob alone, I know. Untiring for years you’ve championed his fight, his rights, for his music, his publishing. We love you. We salute you for all you’ve done for Bob Andy. Ladies and gentlemen, please give a round of applause to Janice from I-Anka.

[applause]

I played a couple of Bob Andy dubs early ‘round and they went down so well. I was so pleased. When I played that I wondered what they were going to come up with next. I couldn’t believe it. The place exploded. They played back a tune that I’d already played by Garnett Silk. You cannot play back a tune in a clash. That’s the worst thing you can do. Bass Oddysey couldn’t believe that they’d done it either but they did. With all due respect to Worm and Damion it was just one of those moments. The pressure was on. You choose a tune. Maybe they cued up the wrong tune, I don’t know. That was it. That was the moment in which I won the clash because I got that point. It was the best of ten. That’s how razor edge and sharp it can be in dubplate clashing. Imagine you were there all night and everything you cut must be unique to you. It’s very challenging but very exciting.

BENJI B

Am I right in thinking that in the days before dubplate specials you could actually draw for an artist to come and play for you?

David Rodigan

You could, yeah. That was true. That was amazing when that used to happen. That really was the days before cutting a dub with your name in, really. For me, one of the great highlights was a clash I did in… I’ve got to play the dub, sorry. It was a clash in New York. It was in December 1985. The snow was falling. The crowd was four deep around the Brooklyn Empire. When we arrived I said to the driver, I said, “What’s all this? Is it some sort of concert?” They said, “It’s for you.” We couldn’t believe it. There were thousands of people in the Brooklyn Empire. Why? Because Barry G and I had been doing these clashes on the radio. These cassettes had gone up to New York so they all wanted to come and see what we looked like. One of the dubs I’d cut that night for that clash was this. Also that night performing on stage were people like Tiger, Chaka Demus & Pliers, new artists that you could draw from live and direct. This was a dub by someone who’s no longer with us. Again, in terms of classic dubs that you’ll never forget. This Tenor Saw just blew the place apart.

(music: Tenor Saw - Rodigan dubplate)

[comments over music] A very diplomatic dub because he doesn’t actually diss Barry G because he wanted his records played on Jamaican Radio. It did tear down the house. That wasn’t a live appearance but that night some artists did perform, if you’d like, live for me and for Barry. One I will never ever forget was 1985 at Walter Fletcher beach. We couldn’t believe the crowds up in Montego Bay when we arrived. Remember, we’re just two radio DJs. There were thousands of people on the beach at Walter Fletcher. I’m trying to get in with Barry with a security. I felt this thug on my shirt. I turned. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Because he was standing there, Augustus Pablo. To tell you I hero worship this man is an understatement. I believe that this album, the first solo album, and the subsequent albums, particularly King Tubby Meets The Rockers Uptown were definitive in creating a genre of music that was referred to the “Far East” sound, haunting instrumental recordings which in many ways led the way, I believe, for so much electronic dub music that we now know, bass culture, drum & bass. Big up, Goldie in the house. Give me a signal for Goldie.

[applause]

Shy FX’s granddad is the great Count Shelley. Shy’s in the house, digital sound boy.

[applause]

I said, “Pablo.” He was incognito. I said, “Pablo, what are you doing here?” He just let me glimpse at the melodica. I said, “What?” He said, “I’ve come to play for you.” In a clash with Barry Gordon. I will never forget that night as long as I live. On the beach, Montego Bay, the sea rolling in, the wave crashing, moonlight beaming down and we’re playing dub for dub. I lined up a 7" “Real Rock,” The Sound Dimension. I said, “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m drawing for an artist in a one for one clash tonight. I’m drawing for Augustus Pablo.” We were performing in this beach hut. Everyone was outside. There were literally people hanging from the rafters of this thing. I don’t know how it didn’t fall down on top of all of us. When I cued up the 7" he took out the melodica. The place exploded. Imagine Augustus Pablo playing live for you in a clash on “Real Rock.” It was phenomenal.

BENJI B

Can you play that record?

David Rodigan

I don’t have it because it was live.

BENJI B

I mean the Rockers.

David Rodigan

Absolutely, why not? Hang on a second. I’ll cue it.

BENJI B

Wasn’t it nerve-wracking when you first had to clash in Kingston? How did that feel?

David Rodigan

The first clash I ever did in Kingston was at the New Kingston drive-in cinema. I walked onto the stage. I was so nervous, I was shaking. Barry G introduced me. There were thousands of people there. There was this stunning deafening silence when I walked onto the stage because they’d all thought I was black. [laughs] You can imagine, I’d been on the radio so they presumed I was a black Londoner. It was a deafening silence. Barry G just said, “Play a tune.” I did. This is one of the Augustus Pablo tracks that I’ve always revered. This is “Cassava Piece.”

(music: Augustus Pablo – “Cassava Piece”)

In case you’re wondering why it’s called ‘Ram Jam Presents,’ I’d just like to remind myself and you of why. In 1967 on Radio Caroline Tommy Vance played a song every day, rocking on that boat out in the North Sea. It was called “Ram Jam” by Jackie Mittoo. I love that haunting instrumental so much I could not stop playing it. My friends at school started to call me ‘Ram Jam.’ That’s where the nickname came from, ‘Ram Jam’ Rodigan. Then in the early ’70s when I was unemployed, I started selling records in a street market in Putney and another street market in Oxford. I called my record shack Ram Jam’s Record Shack. I was getting high on my own supply. I was so addicted to this music, I couldn’t stand to think that I wouldn’t be able to keep up with it. If I could sell it, that meant I could buy it at wholesale price and keep this stuff. That was an excuse. But here’s another example of a haunting song from the summer of ’76 by Augustus Pablo that I sold on that record market place in 1976. This is “East of the River Nile” by Augustus Pablo. Again if this doesn’t preempt what was coming in years to come, then nothing does. Drum & bass, dubstep, thank you to all the dubstep pioneers who welcomed me into their world and giving me the privilege to play in places like this when normally I wouldn’t have normally played. Thank you to the dubstep world for that invitation. I know James Breakage is here tonight and Caspa. Thank you. “East of the River Nile,” Augustus Pablo. Listen to this.

(music: Augustus Pablo – “East of the River Nile”)

What I l used to love about the music, Benji, was going to listen to sound systems in England, the great Jah Shaka, Coxsone, Fat Man, the legendary sound systems in Dalston, the Four Aces club, the All Nations club in Hackney in London Fields which is now just a block of flats. Gossips in Dean Street, the old Q Club in Paddington where the American soldiers used to come up from the base and model and pose off and we didn’t care ‘cause we still played our reggae when they wanted to hear American 45s. And all those great sound system selectors, the great Count Suckle because the joy, really, was listening to this music being played on sound systems. And each sound, Saxon and so on, individually cueing up and toning and tuning the sound systems so that you would hear a song like that. It would sound ten times better than it just did.

BENJI B

Talking about England and your acceptance in Kingston and Jamaica, obviously reggae music, arguably more than many other music styles is uniquely linked to one country and one culture. How did you overcome that obstacle if it was one, of clearly being from a different country and continent and a different culture?

David Rodigan

Actually, I didn’t have to overcome it. It was overcome for me because the love I received from Jamaicans in Jamaica is something to behold. I’ve said this many many times. The one thing that Jamaicans love is the truth. Point blank, a Jamaican will tell you to your face what he thinks of you, or what she thinks of you and they don’t care. Speak the truth, calls it what it will. The one thing they do like is passion. Anyone who’s passionate about anything, whether it’s cricket, football, horse racing, live from Newmarket in a Kingston race track, culture, arts, dance, literature, film, they are passionate people. I hope that doesn’t sound patronizing because I can assure you it isn’t. If you’re good at what you do and you care about what you do, then they will respect you. I think that more than anything else, they showed me so much love because I was not a Jamaican. I’m not a Jamaican. I was a visitor to their island, to their country. I was playing their music. I was championing it on the radio. I’ve had numerous, from Dennis Brown to Prince Buster, Bob Marley, many artists, and common people from everyday walks of life who thanked me for what I’ve done for the music. All I’ve done is shared it. I’ve had to good fortune and privilege to share it as a broadcaster on the radio. But I’ve had nothing but love from Jamaicans.

[applause]

BENJI B

Before we leave the subject of sound clashing, I just wanted to ask you in terms of the next generation coming through, what chance do they have, really, when they’re clashing someone like yourself that’s playing dubs from artists that aren’t even around anymore?

David Rodigan

I would respectfully suggest that in future sound clashes there should be a ruling in order to encourage new sound systems, that no old dubs can be played, or certainly, dubs by deceased artists. I think if the promoters were to introduce that so that no dub by a deceased artist can be played, that would allow young fresh musicians, selectors, and DJs to come with original ideas and concepts that could be played, particularly in a one for one. Because I think they’re at a terrible disadvantage. They cannot cut Dennis Brown, there are so many people they can’t voice, Nicodemus, because the artists have passed away. It’s really unfair.

BENJI B

How much of clash is music and how much importance is it mic?

David Rodigan

Very good question. It’s both. I think a master of clash culture was Squingy. If you ever saw Squingy with Bass Odyssey on stage, it was phenomenal. He had this charisma, that’s the only way I can describe it, when he opened his mouth and started speaking. You could have played the best dub in the world, but if Squingy decided that he didn’t like the dub and he’d finished talking about why he didn’t like it, even you started to think, “Maybe it wasn’t such a good dub after all.” That was his skill. Somebody like Ricky Trooper, an inspired selector, sometimes he gets a bit off-key as we all know, famous youtube, put it on youtube speech is another story altogether. It is about what you’ve got to say and how you say it as much as what’s being played. I’ve always believed that the DJ is the last in the food chain because without the engineers, the song writers, the musicians, the DJs are nothing, we don’t have anything to play and nothing to do. We’re totally dependent upon all those that come before us in the process of making the music. I believe that we are duty-bound almost to unveil the sculpture, the piece of art, before we play it with respect and address it accordingly. That’s the way I’ve always approached clash culture. Other selectors perhaps wouldn’t agree with that. They will try and inhibit you and intimidate you by making comments about you or your sex life or whatever in order to intimidate you. That’s another aspect of clash culture.

BENJI B

You’ve always managed to use humor in your sort of performing history and your clashes as well. You’ve got to tell the Elvis versus Ninja Man story.

David Rodigan

The Elvis versus Ninjaman. A few years ago, I think it was 2007 in New York, they decided that they would do a, what’s the term, personality clash or something. They had world clash with the sound systems, then afterwards they had Tony Matterhorn versus Beenie Man and me versus Ninja Man. Anyone familiar with the music will know that Ninja Man is outrageous. He’s killed how many people in one for one’s and clashes and so on. I decided I was going to come dressed as a ninja but then I thought he’ll probably do that. He decided that he would get dressed in the best suit because I always wore suits in clashes in America. He got all suited up. The point was that I didn’t know what he was going to wear and he didn’t know what I was going to wear. Part of the whole thing of clash culture is the costume on the night. I just thought, “You know what? I’m going to come as Elvis.” It was decided on a train, a bullet train to Tokyo with Mighty Crown. Because I saw someone watching a laptop. The guide in the TV show had an Elvis hairdo. It was a completely over-the-top Elvis hairdo. He wasn’t being Elvis but he had an Elvis hairdo. Earlier on in the restaurant, before we got on the plane I’d heard, “We’re caught in a trap, I can’t get out, because I love you too much baby.” “Suspicious Minds.” I thought, “‘Suspicious Minds,’ Elvis. I’ve got to be Elvis.” Then I decided I would voice a dub as Elvis. I revoiced, “You’re caught in a trap,” “Suspicious Minds.” I voiced it as, “Ninja, you’re caught in a trap, you can’t get out, ‘cause Rodigan will kill you baby.” I waited in the wings until he’d done his first round. I got an announcer on a dubplate, an actor to say, “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m terribly sorry but David Rodigan is unable to appear tonight because he’s not available but he has sent a substitute from Las Vegas.” I played the substitute selected dubplate from Half Pint and I ran on as Elvis with the whole silver white suit with the red bandana, the hair, the makeup. In fact, my driver who picked me up, it was an old buddy of mine in New York. When he knocked on the hotel room, he said, “Oh sorry, wrong room,” and walked down the corridor. I said, “No, it really is me. I’m Elvis.” He said, “Are you crazy?” When I was outside, trying to get in, the security wouldn’t let me in through the back door because he thought I was some freak standing outside in November, freezing my nuts off, dressed as Elvis in a satin white suit with red bandana. It was ridiculous. But I did win the clash. Thank you.

[applause]

BENJI B

It’s absolutely clear that your enthusiasm for the music and the culture and DJing in particular has not faded one bit. I just wondered what’s the secret to that?

David Rodigan

Forever young. Ken Dodd famously said, “Retirement is for people who never enjoyed what they were doing and want to start to enjoy what they’re about to do,” or words to that effect. In other words, so many people have to do jobs that they don’t enjoy. A famous person once said, “If you do something you really enjoy, you’ll never work again.” I’ve always enjoyed, Benji, playing music to people. Again, I repeat myself, I know I’m privileged to do so because there are literally hundreds of thousands of people that would like to do that as well. Whether it’s playing in the local pub in the village or whether it’s playing in front of 50,000 people in Tokyo, it’s all from the same point of view, of wanting to share music. In recent times, thanks to the dubstep fraternity, I’ve been welcomed into a world that I probably would never have been welcomed into, had James Breakage and Caspa not decided to record my voice on their recordings. For that I’m grateful, very grateful, to them because it’s allowed me to play to a young audience who have been so enthusiastic in their response to songs that are special to me, that they’ve regenerated my batteries. At my age I still get a big buzz out of playing in the main room here at Fabric and watching the place go bananas when I play, [sings] “Dubplates playing in the ghetto tonight,” or whatever, or a dubstep tune from Caspa. I’ve been very very fortunate. That’s what keeps me going. That’s what keeps me young. Age is nothing but a number. It’s so so true. I use Ken Dodd as an example because the man is awesome. I think he’s 85 or 86. Go to his website. It’s as cheap as chips, god bless him. I think hiss nephew must have knocked it out, 12-years-old. But he’s still working. As he said, “Don’t use the R word. Don’t tell me about retirement because retirement’s for people who are fed up of doing what they’re doing and now want to start doing what they really want to do,” or words to that effect. I still want to keep on doing this. Tomorrow I’m on a plane to Berlin, playing in Berlin tomorrow night, Saturday night I’m in Erfurt, about two hours away from Berlin. Monday night I’m playing in Zürich and Sunday night I’m playing in Biel. That’s four nights straight playing in different countries, Switzerland, Germany. Last weekend I was in Rome and Venice, Friday and Saturday. I’m just using those as examples of places that I’m playing to international audiences. People from different countries, many of whom can’t even speak really good English sometimes, but they feel the feel, the flavor, and the passion. I defy anyone not to listen to “Piece of Mind” by Bob Andy. If that doesn’t want to make you cry, then you don’t have a soul. Bob Andy’s “Piece of Mind” for me is almost like a psalm, a psalm of David. The work of Bob Andy has been an inspiration to me over the years because in those two minutes and forty seconds you can find the joy for living and a reason for living. I frequently play at festivals “Could You Be Loved,” yes, “Is This Love” by Bob Marley because that song is a song of hope for two people, “We’ll share in my bed, we’ll share this bed together, just the two of us, we’ll live just the two of us.” Because ultimately there’s so much hate in the world, there’s so much anger. We’re living in a more violent world, young people hating on each other when they could be loving each other, not sharing anything, zoned off, ganged off, territories broken down, communities broken down. It breaks my heart. It breaks all of our hearts because love in the words of Bob Andy and all the great writers and artists of our times and previous times have always told us that we can overcome this because of love, if only we could find that love. Essentially, I believe this music is about love. We’ve had negative press because some elements of the music have concentrated on aspects of people’s lives which frankly have got nothing to do with what this music was about. This music in my opinion was always about justice, rights, love, understanding, humility, and sharing and helping your brothers and sisters. Some of the greatest ghetto songs that emulated from those small studios in Western Kingston were about sharing, loving, repairing the tragedy of a broken heart. Don’t even start me on Delroy Wilson and the songs that he’s written and recorded. There have been from such a small island, a small capital city, and in a small part of that capital city, these songs over the years that have come forth, Dennis Brown, Gregory Isaacs, so many names that we could list them all night here and we still wouldn’t get to the end of them. But essentially, this music and the reason why this music is still so popular is because it is essentially about love and justice and standing up for people who have been downtrodden. Not just in the African journey, of course, as Macka B says in his new album when he describes that journey from Africa to Jamaica and 500 years. Macka B has made a track about that, he’s talked about the fact that on the radio and television you’re bombarded with, “Can you make a claim? Would you like to make a claim?” because of an accident at work, a car crash, unlawful disengagement from work. He’s done a new recording based on that. His story is, “I want to make a claim for the loss of my culture and my name.” When I heard that song I shivered because he describes where this thing comes from. People who were oppressed for 400 years, if you go and see as we all have, the beginning of the Bob Marley film starts with the door of no return, to think that people made that journey and never came back. This music is born from that. That’s why it’s so important and that’s why it is so passionate. That’s why I think it has such an effect on people because it is so soulful.

[applause]