"World-a-Riddim" : different rhythm types and functions globally

It seems cool to say – as a percussionist – that few instrumentalists in this modern world are as intensely “multicultural” as a percussionist/percussion player. Potentially, but even to a point inevitably.

As a sweeping, more sociopolitical,statement one can even claim that “percussionists are the only true multiculturalists” in this world.. but that is perhaps too sweeping for now..

The exceptions are those deeply specialized in e.g. purely Indian instruments (tabla) to fit in India’s musical structures, or similar all too mono-cultural percussionists in Arabic (e.g. with darbuka’s), Japanese (e.g. taiko’s), or other specific cultures, even within percussion-rich Africa.

Especially in the Western world, most percussionists in modern “pop”, “rock”, and world music, however, combine instruments from the Americas – often the African Diaspora (Afro-Brazil, Afro-Cuba) -, with African, Middle Eastern, European, or modern Western additions.

Some of these Western modern instruments are based on African or Latin American models, but either way new sounds arose, such as the metal “flexatone”, with some “singing saw” characteristics (known historically a bit in Slavic folk music), combined in sets of many percussion players with African or Afro-Cuban drums (djembe, conga’s), woodblocks, bells (found both in Africa and Asia), the relatively more European tambourines, originally Amerindian “scrapers” , or even Spanish castanets.

Like I said, a truly multicultural mix, this “tool kit” of percussionists in many “pop” or “world” music bands..

THE FUNCTION OF RHYTHM

That is: instrument-wise. It is also a fact, however, that musical “rhythm” is not uniformly defined across cultures worldwide: regarding its function in music in different cultures.

Drums and rhythm play a role in very different cultures, but are just the “tools” used according to different values and with different goals throughout world cultures.

One used to Afro-American and African percussion – like myself – can often not get into Indian “rhythms”, Japanese, or Arabic “rhythms” that easily. Even when you are musically and rhythmically flexible and adaptive – which I claim to be – dancing to it does not go as automatic as to Yoruba, Reggae, or Samba music.

In fact, some music with drums and “rhythms” in some specific cultures are not even meant to dance to (other “social”, artistic, ritual, or narrative functions). Certainly not as is common in African-based rhythms – “dance music” , or European music which we are used to. In a part of European music “rhythm” - or eventually present percussion/drums - is not even that dance-oriented, but rather serving as a harmonic base.

I myself as a percussionist am instrument-wise certainly very multicultural, rhythm-wise admittedly less. I enjoyed - selectively – some Asian, Middle Eastern, or other non-Afro – rhythms in music, some even felt a bit danceable to me, but Afro-American and African swing and polyrhythm, or clave-based music, remains more my “thing”, rhythmically. My main love.

I am a Reggae fan, and a nice thing about Reggae is that it mixes “straight rhythm”, clave, and polyrhythm aspects, with Swing, as known from Jazz and Blues. In that sense it is rhythmically between Afro-Cuban music and Afro-US music (Jazz, R&B, etc.). A good African Diaspora mix.

That is my personal rhythmical world and taste, and it is a personal trajectory, based on own choices and tastes.

OTHER MUSICAL CULTURES: SUMMARIZED

I do wonder, though, how my “world-a-riddim” (ha!) compares to the other ones I mentioned. Music follows culture, so the function of rhythm in a culture’s music reflects that culture.

In this sense “keywords” can be useful. Are there short ways to describe rhythm’s functions in different cultures?

Through Google, AI (a google plus, really), Wikipedia, and some paper sources, I could derive these keywords/short characterizations, related to some representative cultural “zones” in this world..

It is of course terribly simplified, and not all existing musical cultures are mentioned, but it is about main trends.

Africa: polyrhythm (simultaneous, interlocking rhythms) and timeline (clave). Cross rhythms too. Layered vertically.

India: cyclical time and tala (story and language based). Monophonic, linear and mathematical. Horizontal (differing from “vertical”, layered rhythm building in African music).

Western classical music: rhythm subdued to melody and harmony, later more metric flexibility and syncopation.

Celtic music: rhythm built into melodic playing (mixed), also on nonpercussive instruments (like a fiddle, pipe, or harp). Often story based. Flowing, “floating” feel, “rolling” and linear, more “ornamented” than e.g. Germanic music, and also more syncopation. Frame drum use common.

Germanic music: strict, symmetrical meters, strong first downbeat: “marching” and Waltz as archetypes. Mathematically precise, tight on-beat rhythms.

Slavic music: asymmetrical and less strict than Germanic music, some syncopation.

Arabic music: cyclical rhythmic modes, as a structural but looping skeleton, flexible to allow ornamentation. Monorhythmic. Follows melody.

Turkish music (incl. Balkan): sophisticated rhythm cycles, irregular and asymmetric meters “limping” effect), additive meters (bouncing, "swing" effect). Further similarities with Arabic rhythm cycles.

Indonesian music: colotomic structure (gamelan): architecturally precise. Gongs/metal dominant, skinned drums secondary.

Chinese music: not a metronomic rhythm but an elastic framework. Empty space valued. Following energy flow.”Breath”-based. Slight heterophony. Mostly linear, but fluid.

Japanese music: also breath-based – not metronomic -, and gives likewise importance to empty space “ the rhythmic power of silence”. Aids in story-telling and community.

Tibetan music: paces meditation, monorhythmic, non-metric rhythm , but instead - again – breath governed, and elastic. Rhythm aims at stabilizing the mind, and an inward focus though slow repetitive beats. No loops or cycles, but guiding rituals or texts.

Amerindian (or: Shamanic) music: monorhythm, “heartbeat” of nature-based, spiritual functions. Deep bass drum sounds.

Inuit music: asymmetric meter, story-based. Voice-drum interactions. Rim-hit frame drums common, differing from “deep bass” sounds of Amerindians in e.g. Bolivia.

Flamenco (Spanish) music: asymmetric elements / limitedly metered but freer, 12-beat rhythmic cycles. Nonwestern in most rhythmic aspects, including frequent syncopation, and even polyrhythm. Flamenco is rhythmically exceptional within Europe, due to different cultural influences (Roma/Indian, Moorish, African), mixed in with local Andalusian folk music.

STEREOTYPES BUT NUANCED

All this seems to more or less confirm stereotypes (Germanic music tight and “marching” like, complex story-based in India, deep heartbeat among Amerindians, “floating/flowing” Celtic sounds, meditative in Tibet and China, “groove” and polyrhythm-based in Africa), but also shows nuances. Syncopation is not only limited to Africa, for instance.

In several cultures rhythm follows a horizontal, textual “story” or “melody” of some sort (Asia and Europe), but not everywhere. Rhythm is indeed the least subdued to melody or harmony in African music: another stereotype confirmed, albeit not an offensive one (in my opinion). I am of the opinion that words/language/texts are after all also tools to lie and mislead. Their primacy over natural “rhythm” therefore suspicious.

This summary also shows how Japanese culture is partly influenced or derived from older Chinese culture, sharing cultural values of “breath” and “empty space”, in line with spiritual ideas around energy flows, as found in Buddhism (see Tibetan music), Taoism, and Shintoism.

Complicated rhythm structures in India also support ancient cultural “stories” and principles, in this case from Hinduism, showing in drums imitating spoken language.

In its syncopation, “later” Western music (pop, “rock”) certainly underwent African and Afro-American influences (via Blues, Jazz, etc.).

Logically, as part of music, rhythm follows and supports cultural specific structures and goals. In many cultures these align with local spirituality and even “sacred” or “holy” music, albeit with secular versions.

SIMPLIFIED DINSTINCTION

Looking at rhythm’s function in traditional music world wide, this main, oft-repeated – simplified – distinction bears some truth: Europe emphasizes harmony in music, Asia melody, and Africa rhythm.

Still simplified, and all music have harmonic, melodic and, rhythmic aspects, but in essence it holds: in by themselves also differing Asian music cultures (Arabic, Chinese, Indian, a.o.), rhythm almost always supports “melody” or “stories/texts” (textual stories of melodies), while in Europe indeed rhythm often tended to support “harmony”, as noticeable in “classical” music (Bach, Chopin, Tchaikovsky, etc.), though in older folk traditions (Celtic, Germanic, Slavic, Basque), supporting the stories or “melodies” also was a function of rhythm.

Polyrhythms as meant to dance to, ritually or not, remain typically and originally African. Of course, however, lyrics and singing also play a role in African music, even a guiding one, but often also rhythmically-oriented (call-and-response), seldom supporting non-rhythm as in other cultures.

SACRILEGE?

I am not the type of guy who plays the “sacrilege” card too soon, though I have my own, largely Rastafari-based spiritual views. Musicians and artists furthermore need to think creative and free to add value. That humans are born to be free, and think free, is after all also my (spiritual?) opinion.

In addition to this, one must beware of no selectiveness or bias regarding this: all too easy use, distortion, or appropriation of (even spiritual) African musical principles seems more tolerated in the West for even commercial music producers, than if e.g. non-initiates play Indian or other Asian instruments that in many minds connect more to “pure” or “sacred” ancient religions (Hindusim and Buddhism), implicitly to be respected more.

Not the same degree of “respect”, let’s just say, painfully reflecting the disparaging historical treatment of equally ancient African culture in colonial history, The same reason that India – while once a British colony – kept it’s Hindu-based culture, whereas Igbo , Yoruba, - also colonized by the British – largely “Christianized”, or elsewhere “Arabicized”/ Islamicized.. More trampled upon.

Even among African descendants in the African Diaspora – and even within the Afro-centric Rastafari movement - , there exist disparaging view of Vodou and related “spirit invoking” or “ancestor spirits” veneration in Africa.

In Central Africa (around the Congo region), ancestor worship has long been traditionally important, whereas in the Nigeria-Benin-Ghana region specific deities/spirits – connected with e.g. nature, like rivers, thunder (Shango, Yemayá, etc.) - “mounting” believers, long was. All this “spirit possession” occurs through rhythm and drumming patterns, with trance-like effects, and while dancing.

The relative importance and primacy of rhythm and drums in sub-Saharan Africa relates to these faiths.

Christianity and Islam tried to limit that, but African percussion found a way to survive, now more secularly. Think of the Djembe drumming culture and circles in nominally Islamic areas like Mali, Guinea, Senegambia, Burkina Faso, and around

This secular “djembe” drumming gained even international popularity, mostly without a proscribed spiritual goal other than “community” or “musical bliss”, though rhythmic patterns played might derive originally from ritual or “religious” celebrations in Mande cultures, such as male circumcision, initiation, etc. They became secular, though.

REGGAE PERCUSSION AND RASTAFARI

Opinions among Reggae percussionsists in Jamaica differ. These tend to be Rastafari-adherents, where a Biblical/Protestant influence (via British colonialism) still made some condemn African Vodou and related “spirit possession” faiths in Jamaica (Obeah, Pocomania), as devilish and divisive. “Obeah” and Vodou are said in some Reggae lyrics to use their “science” mainly to sabotage/attack enemies, and put wicked spells against their brothers and sisters.

Some Rastas, like Mutabaruka, however deplore this as an unfortunate Western/colonial remnant – once meant to disparage and destroy the African heritage – still within the otherwise Afro-centric Rastafari movement, that chose to be Bible-based.

Indeed, I have researched a period more deeply Vodou, Santería, Myal, Obeah, etc…, and such African “spirit possession” faiths, and their tenets and practices. I concluded it is more about “harmony”, “community”, and “healing” – i.e. the “good” – than wicked tricks and spells against people as the European stereotype indoctrinated people with.

Good and bad/evil are more clearly formulated and distinguished in text-based Christianity and the Bible (and the Quran), which might attract believers wanting to improve the(ir) world and take a clear moral stance, but a lot of that is hypocrisy and hidden power play, as the “conquering” religions Christianity, Islam,..clearly showed with their history of enslavement and second-class citizenships for nonbelievers or, well, women.

Even with this condemning of Vodou by some Rasta percussionists, they still admit that they draw on Vodou, Pocomania, Kumina, Burru, Yoruba, drum patterns or notions, when fitting musically in a Roots Reggae context. Repurposing “spirit possession”, and of course “ancestor worship” long common in Congo regions, can be seen metaphorically as honouring/respecting ones African foreparents, knowing their roots n Africa, so important for Rastafari.

This makes “sacrilege” not a very useful term for creative, rhythmic musicians. Rhythm is everywhere, it is life itself, and thus in all humans, enabling each one to express oneself through it. Just like you can get in a “trance” or meditate in quite different ways: sitting down and silent, or dancing/ moving, and singing.

Still, some “sacrilege” or “disrespect” objections were made by rigid critics against free-thinking” world music” instrumentalists who dared for instance to use a Nepalese singing bowl outside of the Buddhist lithurgical context, such as for a jazzy musical piece, or the double-sided Yoruba Bata drums in Cuba, used normally in spiritual contexts, when used in too secular “party” songs (Salsa, Latin). Those “purist” objections will remain, I think.

Rastafari adherents have at least the good argument that Rastafari arose in Jamaica among Afro-Jamaicans as a reconnection with the African roots and values (i.e. via Kumina drumming), as a broader goal “overruling” petty ritualistic considerations.

Rastafari’s Nyabinghi drumming with the characteristic “heartbeat” drum patterns is partly rooted in Congo-based Kumina drumming of Central African descendants in Eastern Jamaica, and Kumina was originally aimed at ancestor spirit invoking. Later it was replaced – or repurposed - by Rastas with Biblically based “chants” aimed at one God/Jah”, on the same drum pattern.

Some flexibility there, with fruitful results in developing Rasta culture. Culture is after all not static, but dynamic. Influenced by different cultures over time. In this case an own “Black” interpretation of the Bible.

FLEXIBILITY

Just like people are flexible too. Percussionists in the Western world, e.g. in Pop or Rock bands (or Soul, Funk, Reggae, Latin, etc.), or part of bands in Europe or the US, cannot escape being multicultural, with almost inevitably African musical elements, mixed with other ones. Standard percussion sets include Afro-Cuban instruments (conga’s, guiro, bongo), and often also African and Afro-Brazilian ones, along with Asian influences or modern factory variants, with often Afro-Latin models: examples are the now metal Cabasa shaker, based on the traditional beaded Shekere, or the Vibraslap rattle, based on the older (e.g. Peruvian) “donkey jaw”. All in all an intriguing variation of instruments, with own histories

On the other hand: many “pop” or Rock songs in Western music with standard structures (chorus-verses, bridge) are also “stories, more or less derived from Western poetic and prosaic traditions, and rhythm supports these, somewhat reminding of rhythm’s function in Asian traditions (Indian, Arabic, Chinese): supporting main melodies and stories, with timed sounds. Additionally, it also must fit a European harmony structure.

This is the musical playground, wherein it’s fun and inspiring to play, according to one’s own preferences: atmospheric, repetitive, polyrhythmic, syncopated, straight on the beat or swing. And yes, also “free space” and “breath” – as in Asian/Chinese musical culture – plays a role in this rhythmic work, (tension building, rest, etc).

What I like about Amerindian music (Peru, Bolivia, etc.) is the direct spiritual reference to nature of the drum TOOK-took-took-took, TOOK-took-took-took, like a beating heart and life line. That’s somehow part of many grooves in other genres too.

CONCLUSION

It’s good to focus on the “function of rhythm” for me as percussionist, but also as songwriter which I de facto also am, including vocals and lyrics (see my Youtube Channel).

When making/writing songs, I sometimes follow some Western pop standards (bridge, chorus, verse) and elements, mostly genre-wise Reggae, with (e.g.) often Afro-Cuban or Jazz influences adding syncopation and polyrhythm.

In other compositions of mine I depart from such “modern pop” formats and I try to make more traditional African polyrhythmic music, Salsa songs, Flamenco songs, or in European or Caribbean folk genres, with other musical structures: more asymmetric or unmetered.

Spanish Flamenco came early in my life, as my mother was from Southern Spain, and with a large family there. Some distant family members of my grandmother’s side – surname De Tena - are even Flamenco artists/singers I understood (like Miguel De Tena), so really in that culture. I like some genres and aspects of Flamenco enough to make Flamenco-like songs too, haha. This is aided by the aforementioned summary/description that Flamenco is one of the few European genres that has “polyrhythm” and further a non-Western rhythmic base. More toward “Africa”, let’s say, like Andalusia’s geography.

On the other hand: also Alpine Italian accordion music (my father was from Northern Italy), North African, or French chansons, grabbed my interest for periods.

That shows that I like to experiment with different global rhythms, even straying quite far outside my relative favourite African or African Diaspora genres (Reggae, Rumba, Son, Funk, African genres). Hoping to also find beauty in them.

That’s what an open mind – also a “musical open mind” - is: wanting to see beauty everywhere. Wanting to see possibility and inspiration everywhere.

Eventually, despite this, – usually – the “prodigal son returns to his own” to use a Biblical reference, used in also Catholic countries, as my Spanish mother used this expression regularly, for “returning “home”, where you feel in the end most at ease, and in some way “loved”, after curious wanderings.

My percussion playing on jamsessions in clubs (mainly in Amsterdam) can also be seen online, on my Youtube channel, and it also is flexible and “multicultural”, with varying patterns from e.g. Afro-Cuban Rumba and Abakua, Brazilian Samba, African bell patterns, Conga-fied Reggae basslines, Cumbia, Flamenco, but also classical music, “rock” or Pop , folk/Celtic, or Middle Eastern elements, which I try to flexibly add to the songs: usually nice covers of Rock or Funk classics.

I use thus a variety of multicultural, modern and traditional percussion instruments, but also adapt to the different functions of rhythm in Pop or Rock, while adding syncopation and counter-rhythms, without distracting from the main basic songs. This can be also “ornamentation” known in Celtic, Arabic, and Flamenco music rhythms, but also “vertically layered” on top of as well as interlocking with the main bass-drum beat, as in polyrhythmic sub-Saharan African music, hopefully to good “driving” effect.

This all is the multicultural and groovy fun of it.

Recognizing Sly's Style

As recently the well-known and influential Jamaican Reggae drummer Sly Dunbar deceased (26th of January, 2026), a tribute seems fitting. Especially on this blog of mine, where I earlier discussed musicians and artists at that time just passed away.

Sly Dunbar (henceforth: Sly) died for (Western) common standards quite young at 73 years of age, yet he reached an older age than another known Reggae drummer Lincoln “Style” Scott, dying at only 58 (in 2015). Or of Sly’s bass-playing steady companion Robbie Shakespeare, dying in December 2021, at the age of 68.

Always sad when a person passes away, influential on some people’s or even many people’s lives. The latter is the case with Sly Dunbar, often dubbed as one of the “architects” of Reggae, helping to shape it. The sadness of mourning relates to the previous feeling of “taking someone for granted”, while appreciating the presence as living among us.

Death, especially when unexpected and relatively young, always comes as a negative interruption. People who had close and more distant (professional) relationships with Sly, in these days close after his passing, have written several tributes, obituaries, or biographies, emphasizing his importance for Reggae, and sad loss.

PROLIFIC

Sly was in fact one of the most times recorded Reggae musicians, contributing with drums to many, some say around 200.000(!) Reggae songs, especially since the later 1970s, also as producer, such as for Black Uhuru and Ini Kamoze. As drummer, Sly thus played drums on countless songs by all the big names in Reggae: Gregory Isaacs, Mighty Diamonds, Wailing Souls, Junior Delgado, Dennis Brown, Black Uhuru, Gladiators, Peter Tosh, Viceroys.. too many to mention, and spread all over Reggae, maybe less with bands or artists having their own “steady” drummer (as Carlton Barrett was for Bob Marley, Burning Spear had long another steady drummer), or worked more with session bands like the Roots Radics - with other (also great) session drummers, like Style Scott, or with Santa Davis, or Leroy “Horsemouth” Wallace.

These other drummers tend to have an own, mostly recognizable style, I find. Somewhat generalizing: Carlton Barrett perfected the smooth “one drop” rhythm with the Wailers, Santa Davis included African and Latin flourishes in his drumming, Style Scott hit the snare hard and played “metronomic”, while Horsemouth included relatively many (drum) side and rim(click) additions .

I find a specific “own” style of Sly, however at first more difficult to recognize. He was certainly influential, and had his own approach and style, yet it was often “subtly” there. Perhaps because he was so prolific and spread throughout Reggae, Sly’s style became more difficult to distinguish, having partly shaped Reggae, after all.

CHANNEL ONE

Of course, Sly was also important for my personal experience of Reggae, even for my developing taste, also because he was very prolific as session drummer as well, especially for the Channel One label since around 1975, one that I am more or less a fan of. It had that early “Rockers” sound, and the “clarity” of the “per instrument” sound gave another feel than (the also great) Studio One recordings, having a more amalgamated, “drowned” sound due to older technology.

Older, yet prestigious, as Studio One received the equipment from the famed Motown label in the US. Cool, but several instruments had to be recorded at the same time at Studio One, at the cost of specific clarity of each instrument, not least the drum. At Channel One instruments began to be recorded separately, and clearer sounding. It was since then also that the snare accent on the 3 (of 4/4) became clearer.

Channel One started in the Later 1970s, around the time Sly began drumming for recordings, having recorded before already with e.g. Niney Holness and Bunny Lee. Before this, he played already with bass player Robbie Shakespeare in the “club circuit”, and in tourist areas in Jamaica. His earliest recording was, by the way, for Lee Perry’s Upsetters label when he was only about 12, recommended to Perry by Ansel Collins.

Not much use repeating here what’s said on his Wikipedia page, or elsewhere and in recent tributes. I only will select in this post just some aspect of Sly’s musical biography with regard to the “recognizability” of his drumming style. Preferably aspects not well-known to the wider public, from more obscure or specialized sources.

On later Channel One recordings, Sly became quite prominent within that clarity of sound, since the Late 1970s. His drumming style was deemed innovative, experimental, but also – in a sense – “commanding”, shaping the song along the vocal part. Sly said in an interview for the ‘Modern Drummer’ magazine (August 2012) that beyond just playing drums, he was also “performing”, while listening to the whole song.

ROCKERS

Important additions by Sly contributed – quite known – to the Rockers sound, and derived Steppers sounds: the earliest precursors – with the Rub-a-Dub Style – to early Dancehall music. It added a bass drum on the One of each (4/4) bar, and sometimes on each beat, making it more “militant” or “military”.

From this developed later Dancehall riddims as originally a “faster” Rockers riddim – a higher BPM -, mostly a matter of a speedier tempo, but also accents, notably digital accents in modern Dancehall, thus by-passing live drummers. Still, Sly originally created the Rockers sound largely, with extra bass drum on the One (alongside the standard accent on Three), becoming a period a popular sound, with Gregory Isaacs’ Night Nurse being an example that is best known, though in my opinion many Rockers songs from the period (say, around 1980) are better than that one, even by Isaacs himself.

Sly’s “co-performing” explains something of his drumming style, but what I as said struggle a bit with is: what exactly was Sly’s own drumming style? I enjoyed it, sure, but only sometimes I delved into deep analysis or detailed description of it, often regarding a specific song.

This implies that I find that style hard to recognize. Sly’s drumming seemed however commanding, but also adaptive, to the songs, changing thus accents or styles. That makes his style more difficult to recognize.. at once..

INFLUENCES

Sly named as his influences various drummers, from Philadelphia Soul and other US Black music, to Ska (Ska drummer Lloyd Knibb), other US and Jamaican drummers, yet.. he also studied African music, to learn about shaping a danceable groove. He likes “groove”, Sly said in the 2012 Modern Drummer interview. In this sense, I think this meant that he did not do many (interchanging) fills, which he says in the same interview, choosing to focus on the nuances within the maintained flow. (you dig?, haha).

Another Reggae drummer I paid tribute to on this blog, Style Scott, when he just passed away in February, 2015 (blog post of that month), had some distinct characteristics in his style. What’s interesting, is that Scott learned drumming (partly) by watching/copying Sly’s drumming, as he said in interviews. While Sly said he learned in part from earlier Jamaican drummers, like Lloyd Knibb, Carlton Barret, Santa Davis, a.o. Generation after generation..

Style Scott’s drumming style was very tight and metronomic, with relatively hard hits on the snare, and – as some find – “slower” than other Reggae drummers . Variations on main patterns/grooves were there, certainly, but standing out all the more within his “tight” (and slower) style.

That’s maybe a clear difference with Sly’s style; of course also tight enough, but with more nuances within patterns, and perhaps more flexible than Style Scott’s style. That combination of “tight” and “flexible” fits Reggae well, rooted in both “straight” Central-African rhythms, as of “swing” based US music (Jazz, R&B).

AND ROBBIE

I wrote something about the “Sly and Robbie” sound in a blog post of mine, namely about bass player Robbie Shakespeare’s passing in 2021. I included Sly in this, but focused in that post more on Robbie.

That’s another problem with recognizing Sly’s style: he was most known as part of a well-known “rhythm tandem” with Robbie Shakespeare, often seeming inseparable. They combined well, but also influenced each other, as Robbie’s bass lines were often relatively “melodic” and full, interrelating with Sly’s drum choices.

SYNTH

Sly & Robbie clicked well musically, grew together musically since quite early in their career (meeting in 1972), creating a solid, groovy sound, sometimes slightly funky, over time modernizing the previous Early Rockers era in Jamaican Reggae music (1976-1983), with added synth drums and other “modernities”. Especially in later Sly & Robbie (1982 and later) contributions or productions, such as for Black Uhuru (albums like Chill Out), or their own albums, the synth tom recurred regularly, becoming another typical feature of Sly’s style, distinguishing him with that experimenting from other Jamaican drummers, less using synth drums/sounds. Also the Sly & Robbie-produced (and of course –played) “hit” of sorts, Herbman Hustling by Sugar Minott, - from around 1985 - had these modern, synth aspects, while still recognizable as Sly & Robbie.

The groove was after all always tight and strong, and somewhat commanding, though, modern additions or not.

Therefore, it’s often easy to remember bass lines from Sly and Robbie-played songs, like Ini Kamoze's 1984 song Wings With Me (later transformed into a “sing over” Riddim instrumental Rootsman, such as for Chronixx’s “club hit” Here Comes Trouble), or e.g. England Be Nice. Or on several Black Uhuru songs. Strong steady rhythms from a coordinated bass-drum duo, the Sly & Robbie bass-drum tandem.

Still, Sly’s contribution to that is not easy to discern, but there and influential, both in steady and nuanced aspects of “the groove”.

JAMAICAN REGGAE DRUMMING

Not least important – certainly in Reggae – Sly’s use of the hi-hat and other cymbals should be honorary mentioned as at least helping to define the specific Jamaican Reggae sound, hard to copy abroad. The hi-hat is important in that, alongside the snare or rim accent, but more drummers, even before Sly and at Studio One, had interesting, engaging hi-hat patterns, adding both syncope/polyrhythm and danceability: Winston Grennan, Leroy “Horsemouth” Wallace, Santa Davis, and Carlton Barrett. That was just the Jamaican Reggae drumming “tradition”, you can say, those hi-hat accents.

CRASH CYMBAL

Sly at least continued that Jamaican drumming style, but rather than expanding on it, he “tightened” the hi-hat patterns, sometimes restricted them a bit, but this tighter structure had as goal an important contribution of Sly to Reggae drumming: the crash cymbal, and its use.

Both the hi-hat and crash cymbal are crucial in Reggae drumming, too essential to neglect. Yet, according to some sources, it was Sly who decided to use the crash cymbal "peak/high-point" more effectively, at the end of a cycle, usually signaling the Chorus after it. He normalized this.

Maybe it’s also good to say that Sly not only “performs” the song along with the artist/singer, but also “structures” the song. He drummed “tight”, not in the sense of “metronomic” (applying a bit to Style Scott’s drumming), but rather in the sense of “structure”, orderliness, making a song more appealing throughout, its dramatic development, etcetera.

ABROAD AND BEYOND

The Jamaican drumming style with roles for hi-hat and crash cymbal, besides the drums/toms, is hard to copy abroad. Some at least try, Reggae bands in the Netherlands, Britain, Germany, France, and US, but often in a simplified manner, not per se “bad”, but not of the Jamaican standard, or benchmark. “Textbook lesson” hi-hat triplets are played often by drummers in Europe and US, but as such can become boring throughout a song, and an added “polyrhythm” (in hi-hat variations) can improve the mood. Less stiff, more African. Nicely rounded off at the end of verses, at the right moment, with a Crash cymbal to announce the Chorus the rhythm goes into. Like a “peak” upon possession by some spirit, followed by dancing in a trance, as in some African folk belief traditions.

Clearly, this is an African retention, still practiced in Vodou, Santería, Kumina, and in parts of Africa itself.

Many Rastafari adherents, however, condemn “Vodou”-like religions as backward, or even evil, witchcraft. Sly sympathized with the Rastafari movement, though he did not say much about it, but that’s his right. Anyway, the Rastafari combine a Biblical focus with a focus on Africa, also culturally. “Possession” in the literal sense (Shango, Yemayá, or Papa Legba/Ellegua – as in Santería and Vodou), is only replaced by a metaphorical “possession” now with music and rhythm, but also by a feeling within. The “Soul” of sufferers singing (James Brown defined “soul” as the word “can’t”). In other words: real music.

The drum and rhythm participate in that, as part of Sly’s “co-performing” and “structuring” style.

Somewhere in all this I now wrote, a specific “Sly” style of drumming can be recognized or discerned.

CONCLUDING

All I know is that he drummed on many great Reggae albums and songs I enjoyed, many that I have listened and danced to as Reggae fan. Many, many great songs. It influenced me – when I drummed on my own compositions, for instance – in many ways, I myself don’t fully realize. I practiced (trap) drumming on songs Sly drummed on, that also, though not exclusively.

When I drum a Rockers pattern (e.g. for an own recording), or use the “climactic” crash cymbal for a song, I know it’s part of Sly’s legacy.

That wider, influential legacy – perhaps subtle, yet present –, in shaping Reggae and drumming, - is something to be proud of, significant for all Reggae fans, and what I thank Sly for.

That legacy remains..

Balafon story and AI

It was some time ago, in another stage in my life, that I walked into a – as I recall it – “third world-minded” shop in the town of Leyden in the Netherlands.

I did not live in Leyden, but it was so long ago (around 15 years ago?) that I do not even recall whether I lived in Amsterdam then already, or even still in my parental house in Nieuw Vennep: a village in the “busy” western Netherlands between Leyden and Amsterdam. I worked a period in Leyden, so it could be during a “break” at that job, during which I indeed used to walk through Leyden’s center with stores. The institute where I worked lacked an own “cantina”, dependent for that on university facilities.

One of my brothers also lived In Leyden, so it could otherwise be during a visit to him.

BALAFON FROM SENEGAL

Either way, I remember that in that store I was intrigued by a small balafon, with six bars/keys made of nice-looking brownish wood, tied with ropes in nice red, gold, and green colours, in sync with my other interests (Reggae, Rastafari). As in larger balafons, calabashes served as resonators.. for this small one two calabash gourds seemingly sufficed. I decided to buy it.

The total size was more than manageable: around 26 cm (10.2 inches) by 23 cm, and around 11 cm high.

Oddly enough I do not remember the “aftermath” of this purchase: did I come from my brother and bought that after my visit, on my way to Leyden’s train station? Did it fit well in my rucksack, I usually took along?

If during my job break.. did I keep it in my rucksack during final work hours, perhaps mentioned it to colleagues? I really can’t remember.

I do remember what I asked the man in (owning?) that shop – a seemingly middle-aged, greying Dutchman – : “where is that balafon from?”, I asked. “From Senegal”, he answered.

Strange how you, or at least I, often tend to remember “parts of events” , some “scenes” or “short conversations” instead of the whole event from beginning to end, a lot of it blurred to oblivion.

Anyway, after all those years, I still have that small balafon, as I am now living for over 20 years in Amsterdam, the Netherlands capital, a bigger city than Leyden, around 40 km Northeast of it. More spectacular, but perhaps less cozy or peaceful.

COMPOSITIONS

Though my house in Amsterdam has by now become similar to a “percussion museum”, with all the instruments I gathered over the years – more percussionists/percussion players I know have that – the balafon is more than a museum piece, as I regularly play (with) it - including sometimes brought it to jams to play live in clubs - , and used it in several of my recorded compositions, instrumental and vocal, often to add an African "feel”. The compositions I usually published on my YouTube channel.

This one was solely balafon-based:

On a recent song I released even “officially” for all main platforms (via TuneCore), called Truly Democratic, I used this balafon, as there was also a Djembe pattern in that song from Mali, bordering Senegal, where the balafon was from. Besides this nerdy “Mande African” connection, I also thought it fitted the overall sound and composition, moreover. It contrasted with high pitches the low-pitched djembe pattern.

Imagination running free and experimenting with sound are all very good in and for making music, but it’s good to remind ourselves that music develops within cultures, usually in communal/festive settings. The root and essence of “real” music remain more in that – communal culture -, than in the nowadays music recording, technical “blokes” who play around in a home studio, and have a computer with internet, in some Western city.

This cultural, "folk" roots is especially the case for traditional and acoustic instruments like the balafon, from traditional music in Western Africa.

Being since young an interest of mine, theoretically I knew something about Balafons – as African types of xylophones -, saw photos of it, and found out in what parts of Africa they were common.

I have a wider musical interest, including within African music, and at one point started to focus more on drum types, types of bells, and the balafon somewhat “drowned” in all this, and was sidelined..

Until.. some moments when I thought of a nice counterpoint to a drum (poly)rhythm in one of my compositions, and thought of the relatively high tones of my small balafon, creating a nice “overriding” melody.

Fun never done, in all creative freedom, but over all these years I still did not get to study more deeper the cultural heritage connected to the balafon, even if regularly recording with it.

Strange, because I over the years did study some drum types (African, Afro-Cuban), or other instruments I liked (the Udu vessel from Nigeria/Igboland, for instance).

So, time to fill these knowledge gaps about the Balafon.

ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE (AI)

Wikipedia is almost inevitable as source, but nowadays you have also AI sources like ChapGPT or Grok, assembling information from other sources. Like a Google 2.0 or “Plus”, as it were.

Also an interesting way to test the worth of such AI sources.. predictably glorified by capitalist money sharks, but do we – as common folk – can have any lasting benefit of Artificial Intelligence?

I am weary of wider economic uses of AI, I admit, especially for “work replacement”: as “unquestioning following orders” is a wet dream of the wrong powerful people, those who like to dehumanize others for their benefit.

As a search engine I can see the value of AI, though.

WIKIPEDIA FIRST

Wikipedia – often quite reliable - gave some interesting information, also about the wider xylophone family. The term “balafon” is related to a language in the Mande-speaking areas of Western Africa, notably around Guinea, Mali, Senegal, and Eastward to Burkina Faso and Northern Ivory Coast. Beyond linguistic issues, similar xylophones are found elsewhere in Africa, with some differences in use, tuning, and construction, but often (not always) also with gourd/calabash resonators, Uganda (the Amadinda instrument), Mozambique, Zambia, are relatively a bit better known for balafon/xylophone traditions, but types of xylophones/balafons are found in several countries as yet unmentioned more, like Cameroon, Malawi, and Congo.

Interesting are the similarities and slight differences between these balafons and their use across Africa, the main shared characteristics being the playing style, with interlocking patterns of often a duo of players (with own differently tuned balafons often), and often calabash gourds as resonators. The keys are made of African hardwood – obviously – but rosewood seems the preferred type of wood, due to its strength and acoustic qualities. Rosewood is in recent times for these reasons, even starting to be used for the Spanish castanets in Spain (traditionally it was chestnut), and other, also more modern European/Western instruments.

SPIDERWEB SILK

Spiderweb silk strings are in balafons attached, with beewax, to the keys for a desired “buzzing” sound, preferred for most balafons in the Mande-speaking (”Guinea”) region, and other parts in West Africa (e.g. also for Cameroonian balafons/xylophones), but not in East Africa, lacking therefore much of that “buzzing” sound. According to my AI search in Ugandan xylophones banana fiber is instead sometimes used. In Zambia other “spider” products are used. Apparently, spiders as insects usually dwelled in gourds, triggering such use.

This is interesting, because it explains the sonic difference of the “bright” xylophones in East Africa (like Uganda), with the relatively more “buzzing” (spiderweb-silked) balafon sounds of Guinea or Mali.

OUTSIDE OF AFRICA

So, the continent of Africa has a rich balafon and xylophone tradition, but I also know of Asian xylophones, and Western ones. For instance, in the Netherlands, the xylophone is commonly used in basic music education at some schools, due to its seeming clarity.

Indonesian music I know often has traditionally some xylophones.

My, admittedly, small knowledge base, even more so outside of Africa, is however also a good starting point for AI searches. What I find most interesting – as a kind of “history buff” that I am – is the earliest origin of xylophones (wooden keys, tuned, played with sticks), and in what part of the world.

It turns out – as also Wikipedia describes – that the earliest xylophones were found in Southeast Asia, at least as early as 500 BC, in (indeed) Indonesia, but also mainland Southeast Asia (the Vietnam-Cambodia, and Thailand region).

Present-day xylophones in Thailand are known as “ranad” and also use calabash gourds as resonators as in Africa (with a resulting slight “nasal” sound), but without spiderweb silk, so less “buzzing”. Mostly bright sounds, therefore.

From Southeast Asia it spread to Africa via migrants, first via Madagascar, and explaining the strong presence in e.g. Mozambique. In Mozambique, the xylophones called “timbila’s” there, often played combined in orchestras, e.g. in the Chopi culture.

I further asked questions to AI about differences between African, Asian, and European xylophones, and was less surprised, as common notions about musical characteristics funnily seemed confirmed to me. Balafons in Africa were played with simultaneous polyrhythm and “interlocking” structures, often by various players at once, whereas the Indonesian or Thai xylophones fit in their more melodic cultures, though as I interestingly read: the Thai Tanad is equally used rhythmically (especially the lower notes), as, I cite from X’s AI searcher Grok: “In Thai music, the boundary between melody and rhythm is blurred, and the ranat family sits right in the middle of that overlap. They are essential for both defining the melodic line and driving the rhythmic pulse of the ensemble.”.

Another thing I did not know, although I of course used to focus more on African music, because of my love for rhythm and polyrhythm.

In Europe, the xylophone appeared much later, first in Bavaria (South Germany), in the Early 16th c., though steadily gaining a place in also orchestral music, and among classical composers like Camille Saint-Saëns, but also some pieces by e.g. Dmitri Shostakovich, Gustav Mahler, and others. Predictably, in European traditions, European music “harmony” laws applied, with a melodic and harmonic function first, and only a secondary rhythmic function.

To me, that made it not much different than guitars or piano’s, able to play the same melodies, only with a “wood-ringing” sound. Balafons intrigued me more, as I could fit it in my African-based compositions.

I was thus glad that I obtained that Senegalese, African balafon in that “exotic world stuff” store in Leyden – even if a small, six-key one: still nuff possibilities . I made good creative use of it, and so finding and acquiring it seemed "meant to be". Even if I don’t remember what I did the rest of that day or week..

I especially used it in “Mande Africa” referring compositions (such as my instrumental Bamako, named after Mali’s capital), as fitting its Senegalese origin.

Beyond that, however, I used my small balafon quite often in other African-influenced instrumentals (such as my vocal Soukous song Osilisi) I made, instrumental or not. The Congolese Soukous tends to have a driving, semi-rhythmic guitar, but I replaced that with a similar high, “bright” sound of the balafon.

I call some of my instrumentals “percussion instrumentals”, due to their main focus, but the balafon at times added some melody to such mainly rhythmic compositions of mine. I guess I also liked the “high” counterpoint to drum beats or lower bells.

I used it on some Reggae songs I made too (on Truly Democratic, for instance, as I said).

Enough about my own compositions for now, though. If interested, you can search on “Michel Conci” and Balafon (on YouTube), as for my percussion instrumentals, I tended to give instrument names in the Info text.

TOWARDS A CONCLUSION

In conclusion, I will focus on my knowledge, though, about the balafon/xylophone. I learned, now by searching through that modern “aid”(?) Artificial Intelligence, added to Google, Wikipedia, or some books I might have. Long overdue, in this year 2025, after having used my small balafons already in many of my (published!) compositions.

I did not really realize that the origins of the xylophone are in SouthEast Asia (back to BC), after that soon travelling to Africa, where it developed independently, according to own musical cultures. After all, many instruments travel: the South Spanish guitar (with Persian-Moorish antecedents), and its offshoots (e.g. the electric guitar) are best known, but also the (North Italian) violin, the Belgian-invented saxophone, the originally New Orleans/Jazz “drum kit” with cymbals, the Armenian-Turkish “cymbals” themselves, and in other posts on this blog I related how the Accordion and Harmonica (whether we want to, or not) originated in Germany.

This SE Asia to Africa migration is however another route than the usual “Western colonial” route, ending up influencing pop and Rock, only because Europeans or the US once could impose (or milder “bring”) their culture to e.g. to the Americas, or the whole world.

All these instruments are used in different ways in different cultures, adding the “soul” beyond mere material/technical aspects, the human creativity and natural playfulness, working out in different ways, within folk cultures.

Thus, the harmonica got used commonly in Blues, guitars rhythmically in Caribbean and African genres, according to African or African-derived norms, either “swing” based (as in Jazz or Blues, partly Reggae), or “straight rhythm”-based (as in e.g. Cuba, south Nigeria, and the Congo).

In the case of the xylophone, though, Europe had – for a welcome change – little to do with the spread from Southeast Asia to Africa: just from the people to the people, each in their own way. The xylophone has been unknown in European traditional music.

Or was it not?

TXALAPARTA

There is perhaps an exception in the Basque Txalaparta instrument, in Northern Spain, SW France. For all intents and purposes, this traditional Basque instruments is a “xylophone”. It consists of several wooden boards (often larger one, and around 6 or 8), differently tuned (though not very precise), and played with twos sticks, usually by two people.

Since some Basque traditions are very old (and some adapted influences from later), this Txalaparta-playing might well predate the arrival of the then “exotic” Xylophone in Germany, in the 16th c..

Even more interestingly, the type of playing has some commonalities with Balafon playing in Africa. “Without knowing it” a Basque musicologist assured (cultural colonial appropriation occurred often, after all, like the English “tea drinking”). Even polyrhythm and call-and –response patterns are shared between Basque Txalaparta and many African balafon traditions, and an overall rhythmic focus, perhaps unusual in wider Europe. The pentatonic scale is likewise – as in Africa – often used.

Only, traditionally no gourds are used as resonators among the Basques (traditionally ,anyway), and rhythmic structures on the Txalaparta are a bit different, less corporal and “hip-oriented”.

Musicologists relate these similarities to an older Neolithic origin, predating the arrival of later Indo-European peoples to Europe (the Basque speak an old, pre-Indo-European language), thus conserving some ancient polyrhythm aspects. Basque music, though, has quite some similarities with Celtic music (in NW Spain, Ireland, and elsewhere), also preserving older aspects, even if Celts result from mixtures with alter Indo-European migrants.

Genetically, the Basques have an ancient European origin (partly shared with some Celts), with hardly a connection to African roots. Even the Moorish period in Spain did not affect the Basques as much as other Spaniards. While also genetically, other Spaniards have overall more “Mediterranean” and “North African” DNA admixture, especially more to the South, so it’s not a “lost African tribe” in Spain, but, probably, shared human developments across the world, and similar inventions, causing the commonalities between Txalaparta and Balafon playing.

Humanity worldwide has as much similarities as differences, and the Basque Txalaparta had – broadly speaking - more or less the same functions (rhythmically) as African Balafons, and also a communal function, but a different one. In Basque culture, the Txalaparta was associated with “cider-making”, or other gatherings. A different climate zone as well, as the wood in Txalaparta tended long to be “chestnut” wood (later metal, recently also rosewood, because of international influences)..

Still.. a type of (wooden) xylophone, played for rhythmic and communal functions, is what the Basque Txalaparta shares with the African Balafons.

The mentioned “spiderweb silk” used in Africa to add a “buzz” to the sound of beaten keys is traditionally also absent from the Txalaparta, as are as said the calabash gourds. The latter is African.

Another thing I did not really know or realize. My small (Senegalese) balafon does not seem to have a strong “buzz”: it sounds bright and nasal (the calabash gourd effect), so I don’t think it has that added spiderweb silk and beewax.

I am not quite sure, and it is hard to check, without dismantling my Balafon too much.

I find it either way qua sound nice enough for compositions, adding a high-pitched, bright “ukulele”-like sound, but warmer, more African.

FINAL CONCLUSION

Now I learned more about the Balafon (I myself used in compositions), that I did not even know, and share this with readers of this post. In some artistic - or perhaps more: “cultural” or “spiritual” - sense I found this knowledge to be useful for me.

AI served me well in this case. I was surprised by the well-written summaries of AI answers to my question: in well-structured “human language” texts. This made me doubt if AI really did not involve human beings, or is there a bunch of writers/editors working behind the screen hired? Really all by machines and artificial?

It certainly added value to what I knew as search engines (like Google), and driven by our own curious questions, AI as an extended search engine could serve all humanity, rich or poor. Information gathering, extending our knowledge.

Rich capitalists, exploiters, money sharks, and even governments, want to go beyond this, I am afraid, drewling at “robot-creating” possibilities, for efficient (read: more profitable) production, creating the “robots” they always wanted, and first tried to make out of us humans. That would be less positive.

As a search engine, Artificial Intelligence, is enough, if it was up to me.

I worked in Leyden until around 2013 (for over 12 years), and went to Leyden a few times since.

Already in the later years after buying the Balafon in that store (near Leyden’;s central, wide Breestraat), I noticed the store had disappeared, noticing this unfortunately during one of my “break walks” in between my intensive “nose in books” library job at the KITLV institute I worked then. “What a pity”, I thought.

Yet, it is in this haphazard way, by chance, even in temporary stalls or stores, I bought many of my especially smaller percussion instruments, over the years.

A nice shaker with Marcus Garvey and pan-African colours on it (I also still use), I bought from a nice, dark-skinned Rastaman at a Cannabis Liberation festival in Amsterdam’s Westerpark, around 2003.

For a period, that typically Amsterdam (the “cool” side of Amsterdam, let’s say), and hippy-vibed festival was held, but stopped some years ago, as cannabis seemed liberated enough?

Other instruments I bought in other “fair trade” shops in the Netherlands, in other stalls in music/Reggae festivals (with e.g. African items) in Amsterdam, Spain, or elsewhere.

That makes my percussion collection all the more unique and personal. It’s not a common “one-big-music-shop” –thing, therefore showing more of original acoustic cultures. My balafon from Senegal is certainly part of that.

Imazigh and Zulu music compared: comparing extreme ends of Africa

I have focussed quite a lot during my life on “African music”. However, this requires specification, a specification I myself avoided to stay open-minded and flexible to learn.

DIASPORA

I specified over time, though. This relates in part to connections within the African Diaspora: the cultural survivals in the Americas. Ghana/Akan retentions in Jamaica, Congo retentions in Cuba, Brazil, Jamaica, and elsewhere, Yoruba retentions in Cuba and Trinidad, Senegambia-Guinea retentions in the US, Fon Ewe/Benin retentions in Haiti, etcetera etcetera.. All this of course living on in Black music genres like Blues, Funk, Reggae, Salsa, Samba, Calypso, Kompa, Merengue, Cumbia, and more.

In reality, in all these former colonies, slaves from different parts of Africa ended up, albeit with different percentages or emphasis.

Apart from the idea of cultural “survival” amid oppression and enslavement/dehumanization, I also liked the resulting cultural expressions that arose in the Caribbean, such as the music, but even beyond that: wider culture, language influences, food, and even spiritual movements, ranging from “nature-, dance-, and spirit-based” – like Vodou, Santería, Kumina – to Christian-based, yet Afro-centric reinterpretations (like Rastafari).

PERCUSSION

Strengthened by my later percussion activities, and by liking Afro-American music genres, I naturally began to study their “roots” in Africa, in Yoruba music, Igbo music, Congo music.. all places where many enslaved Africans in the West came from, leaving thus legacies to differing degrees.

I found that “Diaspora” connection interesting, triggering my interest. Through the Reggae and Rastafari connection, also Ethiopia and its music began to intrigue me, including the fact that big drums there are played usually within the churches.

I kept my mind open, because as a musical artist (as I see myself), I find all music in principle interesting, especially when “real”.. “Real” means here “from the folk”.

Most of my attention (in Africa), though, received “Forest Africa” (incl. Ghana, Nigeria, Benin, Congo a.o.), as anthropologist Robert Farris-Thompson described it, historically sources for many slaves, and less influenced by Islam than “Sahel” areas North of it.. more purely African, one can say, strongly percussive, and rhythmically intertwined like – indeed – a forest or jungle, and drums being important. I love that.

Yet.. the whole continent of Africa consists of more, and whether and how it differs also interested me more and more.

NORTH AFRICA

Over time, my interest for North Africa increased, but notably the Berber or (better) Imazigh people, whose culture seemed “pleasantly mysterious”, also as survival amid Arab invasions and dominance. The “Sahara desert setting” also attracted me, for some reason (contrast with “humid” and well-organized Netherlands?).

I heard snippets of Imazigh music, here and there, e.g. among Moroccans in the Netherlands, but the intriguing band Tinariwen, a band of Tuaregs from the Algeria/Mali Sahara dessert, mixing Imazigh music “nuff funky” with modern Western influences, or other African influences, really made me more interested in Tuareg and other Imazigh music. As a percussionist I was also interested in traditional musical instruments.

As the Imazigh mainly remain in Northern Africa, more North West (Morocco, Algeria), but with historical presence also in what is now Egypt, an interesting “other” part of Africa – music-wise – would be totally on the other side: namely the far South East of Africa.

ZULU MUSIC

The Zulu people are a Bantu-speaking people of about 12 million people, being the largest ethnicity in especially Eastern parts of the Republic of South Africa (KwaZulu-Natal).

My interest for them began with the anti-Apartheid struggle in my teens, but especially (when I was older) with the Paul Simon album Graceland. I was then already a Reggae fan, but still liked that Paul Simon album, with its groovy mix of US folk and country “feels” with South African musical vibes. Turns out that the musical influences on the album Graceland were mostly from Zulu music.

Still later, active in percussion, I began to wonder what type of percussion and drums were used in Zulu music. They same thing I asked myself about Imazigh music.

Now it’s time to compare these two extreme ends of Africa: “Zulu land” and “Imazigh land”..

Despite obvious differences while on the same continent, are there similarities, thus connecting truly the entire African continent musically?

IMAZIGH MUSIC

The Imazigh are mostly light(er)-skinned, speaking an Afro-Asiatic (Hamitic) language, and mostly Islamicized and Arab-influenced, but with an own pride and desire for cultural survival.

Fun fact: genetic, DNA research on me (and my mother) showed that most probably about 10% of my DNA (and even more of my Spanish mother’s) connect with Imazigh and even Tuareg (!) people in North Africa. Spain’s history is long and varied, with Mediterranean variety, and including nearby Northern Africa, Phoenicians, Carthaginians and Hannibal, and the Moors (many of whom were “Berbers”), besides less documented earlier strait crossings. There is thus even a personal connection in part of my DNA. There is another around 10% “Semitic” DNA in me - this study showed -, it seems too (also explainable). The rest (and most) of my DNA points more predictably at European-based pre-historic peoples like Basques, Veneti/Dinaric (from my NE Italian father’s side), and Celts, but still: I am also originally partly Imazigh/North African, DNA-wise.

This increased my interest, but I had to search a bit, to find specifics on what is Imazigh music (unmixed) really like?, what characterizes it? What percussion do they use?, for instance.

INSTRUMENTS

I soon found out that the Darbuka and Dumbek drums, also known in Northern Africa, are more associated with the Arab and Middle Eastern world. The Bendir frame drum, however, can be associated more with Amazigh culture. The Bendir drum – like a large tambourine without bells, but usually with a string attached to its back -, giving it its resonance – is regularly used as rhythmic time keeper among the various Imazigh groups, despite further differences among them.

Less known, though not absent, are drums of the other kind, like barrel-, goblet-, or bowl-shaped hand drums. The travelling Tuareg people know the Tendé or Tinde drums, made from mortar, with goatskin, interestingly played exclusively by women. Also interesting: it imitates the camel sound, or follow its walking cadence in part.
(see also: https://www.bbc.com/news/av/world-africa-63684118)

Men play other types of drum too among the Tuareg, though in part borrowed from elsewhere in Africa (the Mande-region “Djembe”, notably).

While speaking an Imazigh (Hamitic) language, the Tuareg over time mixed with Black Africans more to the South, originally slaves and serfs, also influencing of course culture.

On the “upper”, invading side – on the other hand – also the Arab and Islamic Darbuka/Darbuka drums – known to be used in Mesopotamia and Ancient Egypt - began being used by Imazigh and incorporated.

However, as indicated, the Imazigh – Tuareg and others – have own drums historically. They are less made of wood than in sub-Saharan Africa, due to the desert, Sahara surroundings, and more often of earthenware or mortar.. The goatskin is however a commonality with many other African drums.

A tambourine with bells is also often used in Imazigh music, or in some regions, as are a type of metal castanets, known from Gnawa culture in Southern Morocco. The Gnawa minority descend from (once enslaved) more Southern, dark-skinned Africans, but were influenced by Imazigh/Berbers and Arabs over time. The name “Gnawa” is said to derive from the word for “blacks” in the local Imazigh language (Southern Morocco).

The metal castanets thus can be a Imazigh influence, or – just as probable – a welcome borrowing by Imazigh from the more “polyrhythmic” Gnawa culture.

Crucially, string instruments like a lute, a single-string bow – the latter also played by women -, flutes among some Imazigh groups, and local variations. The northern Kabyle Berbers in Algeria – known as relatively more often “blonde” or European-looking – have a type of mandolin as another string instrument.

CHARACTERISTICS

Don’t let the blonde(r) appearance of some of those Algerian Kabyle Imazigh fool you, though. Kabyle music tends to use several types of drums, besides the “driving” Bendir frame drum and tambourine, and often hand clapping, adding to the syncopation and even aspects of “polyrhythm”. Singing and vocal styles – moreover – often includes typically African call-and-response patterns.

In comparison - after all - to Arab music -, Imazigh music is more polyrhythmic, but differing per region and genre, sometimes being more monorhythmic like Arab/Middle Eastern music.

Whether this is “originally” Imazigh is a bit harder to discern. Especially with nomadic peoples like the Tuareg, and some other more nomadic Imazigh, it was hard to carry along - as nomads - large musical instruments, therefore having to borrow elsewhere, from other cultures, as they travelled along. This is comparable to the Roma and Sinti (“Gypsies”) in Europe, adopting e.g. the Spanish guitar, or Hungarian fiddle.

Some sub-Saharan African influence on Imazigh musical structures is however certainly proven, in a general sense. Tuareg - and generally Imazigh - more to the South, often mixed racially with sub-Saharan (“Black”) Africans, creating subgroups. Yet, even in Northern Algeria there were once African slaves, and not just – as the Right-wing exaggeration goes – European/Christian ones, though these were there too.. there were even Asian captives as well on the Barbary Coast, as the Algerian Coast was called then. Geographically quite close to Spain.

The best-known European captive in that part of Algeria was by the way a Spaniard: Miguel de Cervantes, who later wrote the famous, innovative Don Quixot novel, and who worked as a slave for a few years in Algeria for a local. Recently (speaking September, 2025) a historical study appeared of this period in Cervantes’ life, in a multiracial environment then (NW Algeria region). Interesting, but I digress from this post’s theme..

Anyway, even Kabyle music in the far North of Algeria (and Africa!) thus could have received sub-Saharan influences.

ZULU MUSIC

Zulu music places large drums more in the forefront, notably the Ngoma (a common Bantu word, also known in e.g. Uganda for drum), being large double-sided drums, and a common one-sided smaller drum (called Isighubu), interrelating with it. This already shows the polyrhythmic intention and structures.

There are further several single-string, musical bows among the Zulu, tending to have semi-melodic functions, such as accompanying storytelling.

Musical bows – with one string - are very common in Southern Africa, also in Angola, as the roots of the Brazilian Berimbau bow. Some assume a deeper origin among the original San/Bushmen population of South Africa, known for their small stature, and languages with “clicks”. Bantus mixed with them, resulting in the Xhosa and Zulu cultures. These Bushmen indeed lived as hunters-gatherers, as many now know because of the “international hit movie ‘The Gods Must Be Crazy’.

Vocal and singing patterns in Zulu music are often complex, with interlocking call-and-response but also harmony, adding to a polyrhythmic complexity.

Further, flute and other reed instruments, and later guitars are used in Zulu traditional music. Typically, nonetheless, the drum leads the music, if it’s not only vocal, as in some Zulu genres, with nicely interlocking harmony and polyrhythm, even without instruments. We know that from Paul Simon’s collab with Ladysmith Black Mambazo in the song Homeless.

DANCE

It depends on folk music’s function in both cultures (rituals, context), but largely the traditional music of Imazigh and Zulus alike are dance-oriented. As in fact most folk music of the world.

The driving (Bendir-led or otherwise) rhythms in a lot of traditional Imazigh music, - with syncopatic elements, reminding of the “swing” idea – makes a more African, hypnotizing,and natural way of dancing more easy when compared to e.g. Arab music, or a part of European folk music. Dances comparable to belly dancing, and even hip swaying and rotations, are common at Imazigh dances, despite the Islamic inhibitions regarding “suggestive female movements”.

In the Arab world – by the way – belly dancing occurred, but that was done by female slaves, for their owner/master, often also sex slaves. Islam’s sex segregation directive caused that partly.

The more polyrhythmic nature of traditional Zulu music, make even more complex, acrobatic dance patterns, more the norm among the Zulu.

A noteworthy cultural difference – increasing over time – is the gender separation in North Africa, influenced by Islam, even on “dance” events. In Zulu culture (as in most other Bantu cultures) genders mix on many occasions, creating in addition room for vocal variation in male and female voices. Some Imazigh music and singing has this too, but it decreased over time, due to Islamic cultural norms, as mentioned, sex/gender segregation in social spheres. This became over time generally upheld even in “looser” Islamic countries like Morocco and Algeria, though with differing degrees of strictness.

BACK TO DIASPORA AFRICA

Returning mentally to the parts of Africa I have studied the music already of before (Central and West Africa, “forest Africa”) more extensively, I should be able to note parallels and make (hopefully sensible) comparisons.

Feeling the grooves in Imazigh music reminded me of the “swing” aspect in music from the Sahel area: “Griot Africa”, as Robert Farris-Thompson describes it, often Mande-speaking: Senegambia, Guinea, Southern Mali, Northern Ivory Coast, and Northern Ghana.

Indeed also regions that were partly Islamized, and with historical connections with Imazigh people. In parts of Northern Mali the Tuareg Imazigh tend to live and roam, while South Mali is Black African, Mande-speaking, with a rich “Djembe” (and Kora) culture, for instance.

In several parts of Mali, often at marketplaces, there is interaction between different groups of Malinese from North and South, with people like Tuareg (or “men in blue”) and e.g. Bambara people interrelating.

SWING

The “swing” aspect in Mande/Guinea music, stemming from string-instrument like the Kora, mixed with rhythmic notions of syncope, has clearly echoes in Imazigh music.

Also “string-based”, as even without e.g. a lute, the string at the back of the Bendir frame drum – I have one , by the way – has a “stringy”, humming resonance, adding a “swing”, or shuffle, feel, even when the rest is monorhythmic or straight.

When several drums, percussion instruments, or clapping become involved, Imazigh music even becomes to a degree “polyrhythmic”, closer to sub-Saharan African traditions, but with an own accent, and less “multiple independent rhythms” as in “pure” polyrhythm, but hinting at it with strong syncopation.

INTERLOCKING

Predictably, maybe, Zulu traditional music has much similarity with Bantu music, especially in the Southern half of the African continent, tending strongly toward polyrhythm and rhythmic interrelations shaping the movements, “straighter” interlocking rhythms – with a layered groove - and less a string-based “gliding” feel that mostly characterize Imazigh rhythms. The latter nonetheless knows some rhythmic interplay toward syncope, and “swing”, or even flirting with polyrhythm in some genres.

What I found most interesting to conclude from all this, is that Imazigh music is far more “African” than Arab music, despite the Imazigh lighter skin when compared to sub-Saharan Africans -, and even the occurrence of reddish and blond(ish) hair among some Northern Berbers in parts of Algeria and Morocco, though Imazigh/”Berber” genetics (DNA) are mostly non-European. In turn, this Imazigh DNA ended up in parts of Spain, Portugal, and even in parts of Sardinia and Sicily.. and as I already mentioned, also in my South Spanish mother’s DNA, thus also mine.

Perhaps due to long, historical cohabitation on the African continent with Black Africans, adaptation to the natural environment, or perhaps the retention of “free, dance-focused culture” from pre-Islamic times, there are similarities between Imazigh and Zulu musical cultures. Despite the long distance between them.

Call-and-response is used in singing (and instrumentation) by both Amazigh and Zulu (more complex among the latter), and rhythm drives the music, with some “layers”, making percussion and drums crucial in the music, and adding syncopation to monorhythms. This is originally absent from monorhythmic, string-based Arab music, for instance. In some European folk music, something like “syncope” (around the main beats) is present in some folk genres (parts of Flamenco, some Celtic folk genres, parts of Balkan), but “polyrhythm” as such (independent, simultaneous rhythms interlocking), as well as “call-and-response” in the strict sense, are originally absent in European folk music, or in Arab music. That's African.

MAIN CONCLUSION

This I can conclude from this comparison between musical cultures of two indigenous people on extreme ends of Africa (NW Africa/Maghreb, and Eastern South Africa)..

Imazigh are much more culturally African than Arabs, which shows in the music, as well as in the greater role of women in their societies, though this was limited with increased Islamic strictness. The Imazigh identity is, however, still upheld among especially many Moroccans and Algerians as counterpoint to the dominant Arabs (having mixed also with Imazigh) risking a second-class position for the after all original inhabitants the Imazigh, even in (originally) “Imazigh” countries Morocco and Algeria. Many mix that resistance and asserted Imazigh identity, somewhat uneasy with a simultaneous Islamic identity as faith.

That spirit or resistance through identity is also shared with the Zulu in South Africa, after all having been also colonized by Europeans, and later also made second-class citizens and even near-dehumanized in their own country, during the White Apartheid regime (up to 1990).

That spirit gives both their music more “soul”. It also seemed to continue in the more modern “pop” styles that developed later in both areas: Raï in Algeria (Oran) – that received Imazigh influences -, and e.g. the Zulu-influenced Maskandi genre in South Africa, and in the work of several current artists.

Reggae(-fied) cover songs

The Rolling Stone magazine listed their favourite Reggae cover songs in 2023, which I find interesting enough. Only a small mistake slipped in, because they failed to acknowledge the subjectivity, and kept “the best” in the headline.. but okay, I let that slide, haha. In the introduction it is however explained that the list consists of the ”favourites” of musician/producer Michael Goldwasser, someone with some experience in Reggae. Fair enough.

Here is the link to this article, to open it (in new window):

https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-lists/best-reggae-cover-songs-1234724075/

I am after all curious what songs he would mention, in comparison to what I have known over the years as cover songs in Reggae.

Good to clarify on forehand what is meant: songs from other genres and foreign artists, by (Jamaican) Reggae artists, not covers of other Reggae songs.

WHAT I KNOW

I know some good examples of such Reggae(-fied) cover songs, let’s start with that, but also some that were not so much “bad” – musicianship mostly tight – but more: “unnecessary”, or “ill-advised covers”, as some album/song reviewers put it. The artists – who make good original songs themselves – moreover don’t really need it. Only when an own twist makes a song nicer for Reggae-accustomed ears, then respect is regained.

In ancient times, before recording and technology, in the folk tradition, songs, lyrics, and melodies, were shared among people, specifically artists and performers, often traveling around. “Folk standards” arose thus, with often even an unknown/unspecified – or just vague – origin.

According to many sources about it, cover versions are in essence “tributes”, which seems commonsensical. If I dislike a song, find it unpleasant to listen to.. then why would I bother to make a (better?) version of it, yet based on it? Indifference is often the biggest disdain.

Some cover songs indeed have some parody or even ridicule in them of the original song (and its cultural context), therefore comment on it, yet not surpass it. At times, the artists just do cover songs for commercial reasons (often pushed by their record company), to open new markets, or similar not-so-kosher reasons.

Mostly, however, it’s obviously a sign of respect, especially when the original artist is mentioned and recognized. This also led to some problems in the past, in contexts with little legal copyright protection, including in Jamaica up to the 1990s. This goes to show that there is difference between “recognizing” someone and “respecting” someone, “recognition” being rather similar to mere “acceptance”. Like you accept also negative facts.

British band’s UB40’s brand of Reggae – including some cover albums of Reggae songs – may not be everyone’s (like “Reggae purists”) cup of tea, but they handled copyright issues with Jamaican artists/composers of the originals they covered justly/respectfully and fairly, and were praised for that among these artists. Not everyone is that considerate, though.

From my perspective – see the name of my blog -, I can decide whether I agree with choices by Michael Goldwasser, or reflect on what he missed.

THE LIST BY MICHAEL GOLDWASSER

Not all mentioned cover songs I knew, to be honest, but a majority I indeed knew. As Goldwasser has an actual “ranking”, I found more to disagree with. Number one is the biggest commercially successful hit, which reminds me of the prevalent, commercial logic of the Grammy awards, seldom recognizing (let alone “respecting”) “real” culture, or only limitedly. It’s about the money made, in the end.

That biggest hit is Now That We Found Love by Third World. An okay song, in my opinion.. not much more than that, but a bit too “poppy” for Reggae ears. He makes it number one.

Ranking - to put one thing above others, and hierarchy -as such tends to give me a headache (maybe an allergy: or my “hierarchophoby”) , but I still can mention what choices of Goldwasser I also like as adequate – or even improving – cover songs (often of US R&B and Soul, but with exceptions).

Some choices of him seemed very peculiar to him, as I found those songs not very special or moving. Finely executed by skilled musicians, usually, but not special. I guess it depends on the fact whether I like – or would have liked! – the original.. the bar is laid high – or as they say in Dutch: “je legt de lat hoog” – and to improve on what’s good you have to be better, just as often, though, a cover is different, but slightly less thrilling. Originals often feel more real, after all.

The song One In A Million by Sanchez does not move me so much; Sanchez has in my opinion better songs.. even better covers. Sanchez has many covers, being his specialty, interchanged with occasional own compositions. More in the “Roots” realm, in earlier Reggae decades, Johnny Clarke operated more or less the same, but mostly covered within Reggae itself, like in the folk – shared culture – tradition.

Though I did not know Devon Russell covered a song I liked, Curtis Mayfield’s Move On Up, I found Russell’s cover not much more than okay. I guess Mayfield’s original is “too” original, haha. The percussion on the song (by Master Henry Gibson) is as flavouring as it is inimitable and idiosyncratic/unique. I miss it in Russell’s cover.

Some covers in the list by Johnny Osbourne (Ready Or Not), Dennis Brown (Silhouettes), Freddie McGregor (Sitting In The Park), Sugar Minott’s catchy cover of the Jacksons song, and Norma Fraser’s fine The First Cut Is The Deepest I did like myself too, and immediately, but Alton Ellis has, for instance, better cover songs than the one Goldwasser mentioned. Not so outstanding, though adequate. The Tamlins' Baltimore cover is groovy – played by Sly & Robbie -, while the almost classic Queen Majesty is flawless and more importantly: “soulful”, at least equaling in a Jamaican way the Impressions’ original. Those are indeed good covers.

In these cases the covers certainly gain a unique Jamaican feel, Reggae-fied, so much so that it feels natural and “fitting” somehow.. Like it should have been a Reggae song, almost. Sugar Minott’s version adds nice percussion, instrument-wise too, I noticed, “Caribbeanizing” it, so to speak.

Marcia Griffith’s cover of the Beatles song, Don’t Let Me Down.. a song I myself played/jammed on (on covers that is) often with my percussion, and resulting in jazzy escapades on those jam sessions.

The Beatles original I liked, and are one of my favourite songs of theirs, maybe. Marcia does not stay far behind, with an own twist. On the other hand, Chris Martin’s cover of Michael Jackson’s Lady In My Life could have been better, though Martin can sing for sure, but the production is kind of bland, in my opinion.

Foxy Brown covered an already great song by Tracy Chapman (Sorry), but hardly improves on it, but that is more to blame on mediocre production, than on her.

Horace Andy’s Ain’t No Sunshine (covering Bill Withers) is fine, but neither very outstanding within Horace Andy’s oeuvre: he has several better songs.

Finally, the Max Romeo cover mentioned is fine, but I liked Romeo's recent one (on what would be one of his last albums) of Eve of Destruction better.

ANALYSIS

This Rolling Stone magazine list is thus a highly personal one by Michael Goldwasser, who seemed qua tastes more influenced by the current, more commercial mainstream and “Pop” than, e.g., me. About 5 of his choices I could understand, and these (and some other song) have some interesting aspects, and are fine enough, though somewhat underwhelming.

What did Goldwasser forget, or in other words: what would my list more or less be (my “alternative” list, say)?

Goldwasser’s list is from 2023, so not so long ago to have missed nice recent covers in Reggae.

MY LIST

I don’t want the headache hierarchically “ranking” songs brings with it, so I won’t do that. I can give my “alternative” list, without order or ranking, of course not any more authoritative or “correct” than Goldwasser’s, but just showing different tastes among two Reggae fans, both named Michael (well, I also Michel/Miguel).

I focus on cover songs that I myself personally liked, just like Goldwasser did (even without admitting the subjectivity fully), although guided by some knowledge about Reggae, and being a fan of it for decades.

- Terry Linen – The World’s Greatest (I liked the original, even quite a lot, for which I now should be ashamed, as R. Kelly was caught with some - as deemed - questionable sexual escapades. Still, the original was strong, and Linen does it justice, and more, with a good danceable groove, Reggae-fied finely. Terry Linen’s voice “fits”, furthermore. Terry linen likes to cover songs, having made some other nice ones too.

- Alton Ellis – You’ve Made Me So Very Happy (original by a woman, a Motown Soul, Brenda Holloway, showing how gender in this case does not matter, as Alton at least exhibits the same soulful spirit to the song, with great singing). There are more examples of good covers by Alton Ellis. He had the talent for it. He even improves on Neil Sedaka’s Working On A Groovy Thing.
- Burning Spear – Estimated Prophet (cover of a Grateful Dead song, a California band around the celebrated Jerry Garcia. I did not know the Grateful Dead’s original, when I first heard Burning Spear’s version, but knew I liked Burning Spear’s/Winston Rodney’s rendition, with interesting, magical elements in the production. I later heard the Grateful Dead’s original, which is okay and well-composed, but less my thing. In my opinion, Burning Spear improves on it.

- Tarrus Riley – Human Nature, a cover I immediately liked. It was also of a song I liked of Michael Jackson, that somewhat helped. Tarrus does sing well and soulfully, almost as much as Michael, and that is necessary to do the original at least justice. In addition it is nicely Reggae-fied, with authentic Jamaican Reggae musicians: it fits a Reggae groove (or the other way around), giving an extra touch above the “slick” more mainstream original on Jackson’s Thriller album, that seemed (IMHO) a bit “too polished to be funky” (a general critique I can give to the Thriller album), though nice enough. The song itself is strong, is the case, almost irrespective of accompaniment).
- The Mighty Diamonds should be mentioned, and in fact I can mention several cover songs by them I like, sometimes improving on them, or lifting them to other, soulful heights, aided by Tabby Shaw’s beautiful lead vocals. Gipsy Woman (cover of Impressions song) can be mentioned as excellent, Stoned Out Of My Mind is nice , but even Putting On The Ritz (seemingly one of those “ill-advised” covers, dating back to a 1930 “jazzy” Irving Berlin song) they cover well, clearly improving on the original).

- Ken Boothe, the Impossible Dream, is a cover from a musical Man of la Mancha, based on the life of Don Quichot, the self-sacrificing, idealistic Spanish knight. Something else than the more common Soul, R&B, or folk/pop songs, Reggae artists tend to cover, and therefore an original choice. The song and its lyrics lend itself well to Ken Boothe’s exquisite, soulful vocals, lifting it higher on a nice Reggae groove. The original in the musical drama I saw and was kind of moving (also within the story line), but later covers of this musical song by others in other genres (Luther Vandross, Tom Jones, Temptations, Josh Groban, a.o.) differed in quality, and often lacked an edge: too polished and smooth. I found Ken Boothe’s to be one of the better ones. It is soulfully convinces, and you feel the message, probably even without having seen the musical.

- The Heptones covered Bob Dylan’s I Shall Be Released to good effect, but also Elvis Presley’s Suspicious Minds they pulled off well. They added a warm, own Jamaican harmony vocal touch to these originals. Also these lyrics fit the soulful singing on these Reggae versions.
- John Holt made some nice covers too, of which Killing Me Softly probably convinced most in its soulful feel.
- ‘African Herbsman’ is the title of is Bob Marley and the Wailers's effective and appealing cover of Richie Havens (1969) “hippy soul-like” Indian Rope Man, so lyrically “Rastafaried” to African Herbsman. Havens original is nice and atmospheric, but the Wailers version more groovy and danceable, with Lee Perry-produced Reggae adding extra flavour.

- Everton Blender covered the already great Black American (Soul) classic, by Syl Johnson: Is It Because I’m Black?, orig. from 1969. Everton’s cover version is great, but in fact it has been covered by several Jamaican artists, also very admirably by Ken Boothe, Delroy Wilson, Nicky Thomas, and recently by Samory I. These are also good and soulful, Everton Blender’s version perhaps adding an extra, nice “edge”. As with other “classic” songs with “soul”, the strength is the song (melody, message, feel) itself, not so much the musical accompaniment, which is replaceable, and is on Syl Johnson’s original not bad, but with a quite basic Soul groove. Reggae versions, like the one of Everton Blender, certainly added a more danceable, and impressive accompanying groove, and a fuller instrumental part (horns, percussion, a.o.), while of course roughly following the original’s chord structure. Samory I’s version (with partly changed lyrics) is in comparison more sober, but the song’s strength still gets through, with an own original twist..

- Glen Washington covered a Soul classic by Luther Ingram with some merit: If Loving You Is Wrong (orig. 1972), especially adding a Reggae feel with similar “soul” as the original. Sometimes, like with Terry Linen, a singing voice “fits” with the original covered.
- The latter applies – perhaps more surprisingly – to Anthony B who recently covered I Want To Know What Love Is by US pop/rock band Foreigner. One could argue that it is a strange choice for a “conscious” Reggae artist, but I must admit I even liked the original (rock ballads not usually “my thing”, but a good song is a good song). Anthony B does it justice, with a nice Reggae twist, and his voice seems to “fit”.. somehow..

I can list more examples, but will just conclude with some “honorary mentions” added to this: Luciano’s Bob Dylan cover of Knocking On Heaven’s Door is fine, and – as they say – “made his own”, Toots & The Maytals covering one of his inspirers Otis Redding with I’ve Got Dreams To Remember is a good cover.

Some effective covers of Dennis Brown and Freddie McGregor (e.g. I’ll Never Fall In Love Again, What Difference Does It Make) on their early Studio One albums. Also – more recently -, Sly & Robbie’s cool, characteristic cover of Marvin Gaye’s Inner City Blues (sung by Delroy Washington), Bushman’s cover of the 1960s “hippy/flower power” classic One Tin Soldier (on his great 2004 album Signs), - strange choice but it works, Bushman’s deep voice interestingly contrasting the original’s female sung original.

In addition Sizzla’s funny (and groovy!) Dancehall take on Bob Dylan’s Subterranean Homesick Blues.. with even the video being a cover of Dylan’s.

I probably forgot some I also liked: mostly good singers, in old and new Reggae (like Romain Virgo) usually make good covers of Soul, R&B, or Pop songs, sometimes even improving on the originals..

Some of these I mentioned in my list did – in my opinion – just that: improving on the originals, or at least equaling them.

TRIBUTE?

In English you can use the linguistic term “cover song” or alternatively “interpretation”, in Spanish the main word is (just) “interpretación”. This is not quite the same as strictly “copying”, since you “interpret” it in your own way – to differing degrees. While I prefer original songs by talented artists (the other songs have been done already, by others), that could be also a function of cover songs for even established artists: showing their talents to “interpret” good or famous songs, thus displaying their own talent and skills (or not), while also some musicians/instrumentalists probably enjoy “Reggae-fying” the original song’s accompaniment and chord structure, considering this a nice challenge as well.

Paying tribute is another already mentioned function, but is partly relative when departing from an “interpretation” perspective. Some – I suspect even within Reggae – choose songs to deliberately improve on them, showing their Jamaican and Reggae identities.. The Mighty Diamonds’ Putting On The Ritz could be an example. Yami Bolo’s cover of Madonna’s La Isla Bonita – it exists! – could be such a perceived challenge, although it is also possible that Yami Bolo actually liked the song. Not all Madonna songs are so bad, as some of her haters claim, by the way. Madonna at least works with talented musicians, I hear on some of her songs, or maybe she is more talented than we assume.

In most cases, though, these Reggae covers of genres outside of Reggae are indeed meant as “tribute” or “respectful”, in many cases honoring the covering artists’ idols or inspirers within Black US music (Soul, R&B), mostly, although Bob Dylan, and Elvis Presley are also repeatedly covered.

OVERALL

Remarkably, Stevie Wonder and Marvin Gaye are not covered so much in Reggae (a few cases.. Delroy Wilson covered What’s Going On nicely), even if several Reggae artists said they count them among their idols. Otis Redding and also Sam Cooke are covered in Reggae, though. The same can be said of James Brown, though that may relate to James’ rhythmic, “funk” focus. The Impressions/Curtis Mayfield are on the other hand covered a lot within Reggae (also by Bob Marley), and were indeed an inspiration for many Reggae artists.

In addition, I think the lyrics play a role. Some of the artists covered relatively often within Reggae tend to express social critique as in much Reggae (Bob Dylan, Curtis Mayfield), anti-war or –establishment messages like some “flower power”/ hippie songs, or share in the “Black struggle” (but in the US). Other covered songs discuss a more universal human condition, while others just have somehow appealing, identifiable approaches to love and romance.

However, Reggae artists – overall – more often cover other Reggae or Jamaican artists, that came before (Bob Marley, Peter Tosh, Dennis Brown, Gregory Isaacs, Ken Boothe, or from the Studio One era: Bob Andy, Eric Donaldson, Tyrone Taylor, the Techniques/Uniques, John Holt/Paragons, etcetera). These differ also in quality, but are not the subject of this post. It shows, however, well how rich the Jamaican musical culture was and is, over the years and decades. Nuff elders to cover within Reggae itself.

Anyway, the fact that Jamaican Reggae artists with several good and great original songs of themselves , still choose to cover songs by these other (foreign) artists – mostly to good effect, with an own touch - makes the inherent compliment/tribute of cover songs even bigger. More sincere appraisal, and less “wannabe-behaviour” or “commercial calculus” , so to speak.

All good and well, these lists of Reggae(-fied) cover songs – and culturally interesting, international /Black US influences, etc. – but let’s not forget that many of the covering/interpreting Jamaican artists mentioned have many good original songs themselves, that at least match many of these originals. While some of these Reggae(-fied) songs became “club hits” of sorts, seldom are they “standouts” on albums with further an artist’s original songs, often more solid.

These great originals only reached less people for being confined to the globally less-commercial marginalized Reggae world of Jamaica, and remained unknown to many outside of it, too limited mostly to “niche” markets in the Western world and elsewhere (read: Reggae fans).