The Music

— Africa, Mighty Diamonds.

Reggae music has roots drilled deep into the heart of Jamaica. It embodies the historical experience of the Jamaican people — it reflects and in reflecting, reveals the contemporary situation of the nation.

Until 1962, the year of Jamaican independence from Britain, popular music on the island mainly followed American and English trends, with very little indigenous music reaching the media.

An important exception was the Burra dance, an African based rhythm that represented an open celebration of criminality and was used to welcome discharged prosoners back into the community. It was an occasion for the outpouring of grievances against the authorities

In the Forties the Rastafari began clashing regularly with the police, because of the Rastas' radical lifestyle, a liason began to develop between the Rastas and common criminals. The drift towards a consciously anti-establishment and anarchist position was assisted by the police who labelled the Rastas as dangerous criminals who were merely using mysticism as a front for their subversive activities. Many Rastas openly embraced their outlaw status.

The Rastafari, who came to the urban jungles in the first flush of neo-colonialism following 1962, steadily gained influence and involved themselves creatively in the production of popular music as an outlet for their message. Embittered youth of the West Kingston slums, abandoned and oppressed by a society which claimed to serve them, were ready to look to the Rastas for explanations, to listen to their music, and emulate their posture of withdrawal.

"So who's gonna stay home When the freedom fighters are fighting"

— Talkin' Blues, the Wailers.

Today, a wave of anti-capitalist, anti-imperialist, and anti-establishment reggae hits has bolstered Manley's left-wing policies and exposed the source of Jamaica's problems to ordinary people. Songs with titles like: "Foreign Press", "Revolution Conference", "Kissinger", "Arab Oil Weapon" and "Hear Talk of Inflation" are being produced by the hundreds and serve to communicate resistance consciousness where the high-sounding phrases of Manley's government create confusion.

The impact of reggae/Rasta philosophy has been aided by the economics of record production and distribution on the island. For all their faults, the rip-off recording studios permit almost anyone with talent to make a record using studio equipment. They also allow the production of dub (sound-track) sides which the performers can take with them on the important backyard party circuit.

In a society where the public cannot generally afford to pay for concerts (there is very little live music in Jamaica) and the musicians cannot afford instruments, and dub-sides enable performers to accompany their records live at parties. In this way the people have direct and intimate contact with uplifting subversive ideas.

Another important factor is the ability of ordinary people to distribute and promote their records through the decentralized independent record shope which have grown up in the absence of strong monopolies. Songs, political or otherwise, make it on their own merits rather than on manipulated radio play. Thus, tunes banned by the government or the establishment can become run-away hits, appropriately termed "heavy shots" regardless of official sanctions.

Examples of these are "Legalize It", calling for the legalisation of ganja, and "Discrimination", warning employers not to hassle Rastas, both of which were banned by the government.

Without a doubt reggae and the resistance culture it represents had performed liberating function in contemporary Jamaica, and a secularised version of the Rastafanan credo is definitely on the up-swing. Whether the Natty Dreads can continue their development is another story. It remains to be seen if reggae music and its rebel content can withstand the pressures of North America's spectacular commodity society. Or if it will be denatured and conopted, absorbed without a whimper, like the protest movement and "San Francisco Sound" of the Hippy Sixties.

Bob Marley says emphatically, "It never be mon, because Rasta man him not like a hippie . . . him hold a long time an' hippie no hold a on, him fail."

At the present time the Dreads believe that their example, thier message, and the strength of their vision will prevail in the world. If not. Bob Marley says ominously, "Is better to die fightin' for yar freedom than to be a prisoner all da days of yar life."