Fats Domino as milestone toward Ska

Recently, the 24th of October of 2017, Fats Domino passed away. Always sad – how nice if we all could live forever – , but at least this was no relatively untimely passing – as all too common among musicians -, since Fats Domino was at the blessed age of 89 when he died. The New Orleans Rhythm & Blues artist was in and by itself an interesting musician, selling almost as much as Elvis Presley, they say. He was unique and influential as musician and artist in several ways.

Moreover, he was also relevant for this – my – blog on which I pay relatively much attention to Reggae music, as one of my main interests. Yet, the relevance is also there regarding other themes I discussed on my blog.

It is largely pointless to repeat here what everyone can study for oneself about Fats Domino – or read in the Wikipedia article on Domino. A general introduction is still useful, though.

RHYTHM & BLUES

In light of his relevance for the development of Jamaican music, beginning with Ska around 1959, it is good to know Fats Domino’s musical “position”, so to speak, within the genre known as Rhythm & Blues in the US. This term – often shortened to R&B – is not without ambiguity, more recently also being used for what seem variants of Soul- and Funk-influenced Pop songs.

This is more recent, though. Originally Rhythm & Blues developed in the 1940s among African Americans in US cities, combining largely elements of Jazz and Blues. Louis Jordan was an influential, early figure in its development, and before him people like Cab Calloway, T-Bone Walker, and Count Basie.

NEW ORLEANS RHYTHM & BLUES

In the course of the 1940s and later, as other music genres, this R&B developed further, with regional differences. There were for instance differences in the classic Mississippi Blues, and particular variants of New Orleans blues. The latter, New Orleans Blues and Rhythm & Blues, showed more Afro-Caribbean influences, including from Afro-Cuban genres like Son and Contradanza. This relates to Louisiana’s past as French and Spanish colony.

Cuban patterns like the tresillo, based on sub-Saharan African polyrhythmic 3-2 “clave” patterns, were absorbed into this New Orleans variant of R&B. Also Cuban musical instruments became used at times after 1949 in New Orleans and the wider US, such as the maracas shakers, and the hand drums the bongos, and conga’s.

Professor Longhair was an influential New Orleans R&B singer and pianist, who was influenced by Afro-Cuban music. This in turn later influenced – some say – to musical change toward the genre Funk.

Anyway, several distinct Afro-Caribbean connections helped give the New Orleans R&B, its distinct touch, including a “back beat” feel. It is in this particular R&B tradition that the popular New Orleans artist Fats Domino stood.

So New Orleans – commonly known as the birthplace of what we know as “Jazz” –has been influential in more than one sense on US music and beyond, especially Black music. Also, “whitened” Rock & Roll was influenced by New Orleans R&B, many assert.

JAMAICA

It is also this New Orleans tradition that reached Jamaica, often more than other US or Blues genres, through US radio stations in the US South, Louisiana being simply geographically closer to Jamaica. Fats Domino songs became known and popular in Jamaica, along with the R&B or “jump blues” of other US artists like Louis Jordan, by the 1950s.

It is said that this R&B variant influenced the development of Jamaican own music, as musicians in Jamaica started to make their own music, under several influences. The back-beat shuffle of some Fats Domino songs - and related New Orleans Rhythm & Blues - influenced the feel of Ska, albeit along with other influences. Drum-wise, for instance, local Afro-Jamaican drumming influences (with both Akan and Congo origins) influenced Ska too from early on, as did the preceding, more rural Jamaican folk genre Mento (which was not unlike Calypso).

Interestingly, Afro-Cuban influence came to Jamaica too – partly at least – via Louisiana, while Cuba is located closer to Jamaica than Louisiana. It must be the language barrier.

Ska and Reggae historians tend to mention especially the song of Fats Domino called ‘Be My Guest’ as influencing early Ska strongly. This song was a big hit in the 1950s at the Jamaican sound systems, as were some other Domino songs. Listening to this song, Be My Guest, which accentuates the offbeat, one easily notices the influence.

There is thus a quite direct link between Fats Domino and Ska, and following Jamaican genres like Rocksteady and Reggae, all maintaining this offbeat characteristic.

However, Jamaican Ska legend Prince Buster maintains that another R&B song from 1950 was even more influential on Ska, and was likewise popular at sound systems: Willis Jackson’s ‘Later For The Gator’. Jamaican sound system and studio owner Clement “Coxsone” Dodd had this record as a kind of “rare speciality”. Here also a possible influence on Ska as you hear it, but it took some years for Ska to develop.

BROADER CULTURAL HISTORY

Just as interesting, however, is in my opinion the cultural and musical history behind this. I alluded to this already a bit: the Afro-Cuban influence on New Orleans R&B, that in turn influenced Jamaican music. This relates to degrees of African musical retention in Black music genres in the West.

As a percussionist, having studied Afro-Cuban patterns (and soon also other Afro-Caribbean and African patterns), this has a practical interest for me as player. Yet, I also find it an intriguing theme at a purely theoretical level, from a strictly cultural/historical perspective..

There is some kind of intriguing and ironic contradiction here. On the one hand, the popularity of New Orleans R&B, at least for a period, at Jamaican dances/sound systems in the 1940s and 1950s – especially in urban parts of Jamaica – shows how musical influences are international. It influenced to a degree the developed own genres in Jamaica since the later 1959; Ska to start with.

SKA

On the other hand, it is certainly not correct to see this Jamaican Ska as an “offshoot” of this type of R&B. there is much more to it. In fact, it is more appropriate to conclude that New Orleans R&B by people like Fats Domino were just one of the influences absorbed into Ska, resulting in a new musicial idiom (Ska). This idiom included however local Jamaican influences too: from Mento (a more rural Jamaican folk genre, not unlike Calypso), or Afro-Jamaican drumming traditions, including those from African “spirit religions” such as Burru and Kumina.

Rastafari drumming called “Nyabinghi”, in turn absorbing Burru and Kumina influences, influenced Ska too in some sense, noticeable in the early Ska song Oh Carolina, for which Rastafari drummers (Count Ossie a.o.) were employed. Their drums combine here with a R&B-like “boogie shuffle”.

In addition, New Orleans Rhythm & Blues itself, as has been said already, was the result of various influences. Afro-Cuban ones, but also Haitian ones: Louisiana was a period a French colony, and also a period a Spanish colony (up to 1800). These French and Spanish influences set it culturally apart from the other Southern states in the US, and enabled connections with other French colonies like St Domingue (known as Haiti after independence in 1804), and Cuba. Afro-Haitian music genres, probably influenced the New Orleans sound too.

The slave regime under the Catholic French and Spanish had some differences with the slave regime of Anglo-Protestant colonies. Africans were – under conditions – allowed to play their traditional music, at certain occasions, mostly on Sundays and specific places of the city New Orleans, the famous Congo Square, notably. More of the traditional African music –like in Cuba – could be maintained this way, giving the New Orleans variant its stronger polyrhythmic characteristic.

AFRICAN RETENTIONS

Author – and musician - Ned Sublette, furthermore, argues that increased Afro-Cuban influences on New Orleans music, such as on the mentioned Professor Longhair, a bit also on Fats Domino, helped “re-Africanize”in a broader sense US Black music. Afro-Caribbean (Cuban, Haitian) influences were there in New Orleans before this already, though..

Blues that developed elsewhere in the US South and the Mississippi delta, seems to have this polyrhythmic and offbeat focus less, but have more a “swing” influence. Africa is also there, however. The same Ned Sublette also pointed at the differences between influences from different parts of Africa between US Black music on the one hand, and the Caribbean and Brazil/Latin America on the other.

Especially in US Black music the influence of the “Griot” tradition from the Guinea and Senegambia regions in Africa is more evident. Relatively more slaves brought to the US came from that region (especially also around the Mississippi), bringing Griot traditions, based a bit more on “string instruments” than on drums. This string-instrument focus was partly an Islamic/Arabic influence, sharing this ironically with the “guitar culture” in the former colonial power Spain; where what we know as the “Spanish guitar” indeed arose.

These string instruments in the Guinea, Southern Mali, Northern Ivory Coast, and Senegambia regions –however - were given a distinct African interpretation, including own instruments as the Kora, as well as distinct “swinging” playing styles, markedly different from string instruments being played in Arab or even North African cultures. It is a Black African interpretation, so to speak, that also travelled to the US with the slaves, feeding into Blues. That whole idea of “swing” (“around” the beat), is thus also af African (Mande) origin.

Enslaved Africans brought to other parts of the Americas brought other Black African traditions, less influenced by Arabs or Islamic cultures, more based on percussion and drumming. This included more complex polyrhythmic structures, cross-rhythms, and call-and-response. These aspects were also present in the Griot/Guinea region music in Africa, but more limitedly.

A general polyrhythm and drum focus of Africans from what Ned Sublette calls “forest Africa” (closer to the Equator), from people like the Yoruba, Igbo, Congo and Angolan people, Coromantee/Akan (Ghana), Ewe-speaking peoples (Benin), and others, thus came to the Americas, with the slave trade. While this slavery certainly caused a cultural destruction and alienation, it was not a full one, as it survived even strict legislation in certain colonies, and making use of the few channels in colonies with less strictly prohibitive legislation, such as French, Spanish, and Portuguese colonies. Both “Griot” African as “Forest” African music could survive slavery in the Americas.

REGGAE HISTORIES

There exist several different books and documentaries on the historical development of Reggae and other Jamaican music. All more or less confirm the role of R&B’s popularity in the 1950s in Jamaica, especially in urban, Kingston sound system and dancehalls, in helping to shape Jamaica’s own Ska music. Different works – though – accentuate somewhat different aspects of this process, mainly remaining within the realm of veracity.

FROM R&B TO SKA

Some sources claim that even one specific song set Ska in motion, the already mentioned ‘Be My Guest’ by Fats Domino, or the one by Willis Jackson.

Others have a broader view, pointing out that Jamaican sound system owners played some popular Fats Domino tunes, but also searched “rarer” R&B, after Domino became perhaps a bit too mainstream. These were often, though not always, also of the New Orleans R&B variant, or – as also referred to it – the “shuffle boogie” R&B. Jazz, bebop and swing, or other blues or R&B reached Jamaica too.

This is related as such by Dave Thompson in his work ‘Reggae & Caribbean music’ (Backbeat Books, 2002). In that same book, however, influential Jamaican guitarist Ernest Ranglin pointed at this shuffle boogie R&B, or “shuffle rhythm” (characteristic of New Orleans R&B, such as by Fats Domino) as “point of departure”, after which Jamaican musicians like himself first playing this, then went their own direction. They for instance placed a stronger emphasis on the second beat, resulting in what can be deemed “proto-Ska”.

Thompson in this work, on the other hand, also mentions the influence of Laurel Aitken in Ska’s development, someone who also played Mento music, and was influenced by latin styles, bringing these probably into the mix creating Ska too. He also mentions other people and influences.

JAZZ?

Others, such as Lloyd Bradley in the book ‘Reggae: the story of Jamaican music’ (BBC, 2002) – accompanying a BBC TV series - even argue that while there is a link between R&B and Ska, the overall influence of Jazz musicians on Ska’s development is actually larger. The main studio band in the early Ska stages, the Skatalites, were indeed experienced as jazz music performers by the time Ska arose around 1959. The space for horn solo’s in several Jamaican Ska records, - with Skatalites members as musicians - can be attributed in part to this.

Jazz is known as originally as coming largely from New Orleans, so there is another link.

Also, by the way, - not everyone knows this - the standard idea of a modern “drum kit”, now so common in Western popular music, originated they say in the New Orleans music scene. The combination of different types of drums with cymbals, notably. Earlier, Caribbean genres like Mento (Jamaica), Son and Rumba (Cuba), Merengue (Dominican Republic) were quite percussive, but the “drum” or “beat” part was mostly covered by hand drums, often combined with shakers or scrapers. With Ska the standard drum kit as we know it now in pop music began to be used more in Jamaica, but that happened in other genres too, showing another international influence of New Orleans globally (along with Jazz since around 1900).

The drum kit spread with Jazz, can be said somewhat simplified. At first Jazz was in Jamaica mostly popular with more wealthy people, where some drum kits might have been used earlier, whereas ghetto residents often preferred the rawer R&B. Musicians like the Skatalites, though, played in different circles and for different groups. The first two musicians to own an electric bass were also active in Ska, Byron Lee, and Lloyd Spence, the latter being also a jazz musician before that.

Bradley writes that Ska partly derived from R&B boogie, changing the emphasis from the upbeat (as in R&B) to the “downbeat”, giving it a distinct Jamaican touch. He points out, however, that this was done by mainly local Jamaican jazz musicians, that came to form the Skatalites, driving Ska forward. He stresses that besides “sound systems” there was also a vivid “live music” scene in Jamaica and Kingston, albeit in part class-related. This was simply because instruments and learning to play them cost money. However, the famous nun-run, Catholic Alpha Boys School in Kingston gave music lessons to its pupils (including Skatalites’member) since the 1940s, and was thus an alternative avenue for children from poor families to learn to play musical instruments.

Jazz (with some Blues influences) brought some ‘swing” (as musical term) aspects to Jamaican music, indirectly a Griot influence that can be partly traced back also to Mande-speaking parts of Africa, despite the “whitened” image swing jazz or Dixieland music got over time.

I myself was advised when I learned to play the bongos and conga’s that Afro-Cuban patterns could be used on Reggae too (I figured that out a bit already), but that an element of “swing” should be added to fit the Reggae rhythms, especially with the Left hand. It was supposed to be less tight on the beat as in Salsa or other Cuban music: Afro-Cuban music tends to be relatively more polyrhythmic (clave-based), but tighter on the beat than, say, Blues, Jazz, Soul, or Reggae. I tried the “tighter” Cuban patterns on Reggae too, and it “kind of” seemed to fit too, though perhaps not fully. So the advise I got seemed appropriate.

Alongside these R&B and Jazz (and other) influences there were many other influences on Ska, and following genres Rocksteady, and Reggae. The rural Mento genre should not be forgotten. Most of these, like Mento, are also from the local Afro-Jamaican tradition, as well as from the Rastafari cultural influence (signifying a focus on Africa). The Rastafari movement also originated in Jamaica in the 1930s, not long after the coronation of Haile Selassie as Emperor of Ethiopia in November 1930.

Further there were other Caribbean (Latin, Cuban) or African influences. Rastafari drumming, known as “Nyahbingi”, combined local Afro-Jamaican influences of ancestral African, Akan and Congo, origins, while also Yoruba drumming, such as by the well-known Nigerian percussionist Babatunde Olatunji, is said to have influenced some early Nyahbinghi drummers. Rastafari influenced Reggae music culturally, lyrically, and also musically, such as through this drumming. The “heart beat” drumming characteristic of Nyahbingi, even gave Reggae rhythms their own feel, especially Roots Reggae since the 1970s, while also the “answering”, freer, repeater patterns of Nyahbinghi recurred (and still recurs) on Reggae records and rhythms.

This all combined, in a varied and interesting African Diaspora connection with the said influence from Black American music, and in this New Orleans R&B was a large proportion.

AFRICAN UNIFICATION

That is what makes Reggae, the genre that originated in Jamaica first around 1968, having Ska and Rocksteady as precursors, interesting also from a cultural and philosophical perspective. The combination of influences from it, from different cultural zones within the African diaspora, and ultimately Africa itself. The “swing” tradition – stemming mainly from “Griot” cultures in the Guinea and Mande-speaking part of Africa (around the Sahel) - entered Jamaica via Jazz and Blues from Black US music; “clave-based” polyrhythmic structures and Congo-influences from Central and “Forest” Africa entered via Afro-Cuban music, as well as from local Kumina, Burru, and Nyahbinghi traditions, but also via New Orleans R&B; and African storytelling music left legacies in Mento and Calypso also influencing Reggae, having partly also roots in what is now Ghana.

Reggae represents thus, in a musical and cultural form, an African unification, in that sense well along the lines of Marcus Garvey, a thinker influential on Rastafari, who aimed at uniting Africans at home and abroad. Another important person for Rastafari, Ethiopian Emperor Haile Selassie, was also very active with a Pan-African “uniting Africa” focus, also in a political sense within the African continent, starting the international Organization of African Unity.

BACK TO FATS DOMINO

Rather than a divertion from Fats Domino, the above text of mine, can better be seen – I argue – as a “contextualization”. How the recently departed Fats Domino stood within the R&B tradition in the US, I sketched more or less, becoming – many say – also influential in what would be called “Rock & Roll”, and an influence on Elvis Presley.

Rock & Roll, as a “Whiter” more Country-influenced derivation of R&B, never became very popular in Jamaica, unlike earlier, 1950s R&B. Partly because of that, probably, Jamaicans were stimulated to make their own music, instead of following what came from the US. Fats Domino was in that sense one of the “last milestones” in tracing the influence of Black American music on the development of Ska.

In later decades, other US Black music would to degrees influence Rocksteady and Reggae (Soul, the Impressions, James Brown a.o.).

Yet, in the development of Jamaica’s first own urban, popular music genre, Ska, that would feed later into Rocksteady and Reggae, in this crucial, pioneering phase of Jamaican popular music, Fats Domino was one of the crucial influences, along with the wider shuffle, New Orleans R&B tradition he represented.

Rhythm & Roots : exhibition on Black Music in Amsterdam's Tropenmuseum

The exhibition ‘Rhythm & Roots’ ('van blues tot hiphop / from blues to hiphop') was/is displayed in the Tropenmuseum in Amsterdam, the Netherlands from the 13th of May to the 30th of October of 2016.

As the name Tropenmuseum (“Tropics museum”, it would be in English) of this Dutch museum implies, it particularly deals with world, non-European cultures, and popularized cultural anthropology.

COLONIAL ORIGINS

Amsterdam’s Tropenmuseum’s origins are quite “colonial”, as similar museums in other once colonizing European countries (the British Museum in London for example). This is actually simply in tandem with the origins of “cultural anthropology” as a scientific, scholarly field, with Westerners/Europeans studying “other”, outside cultures more and more, as they conquered and dominated more and more colonies and areas outside of Europe. The cynical goal was certainly in part – that cannot be denied – using that knowledge about local cultures in order to control them better and gain more profit in the colonies.

Though that was a part of it, there has been at the same time a confluent stream of sincere interest and curiosity about other people and cultures; in the mind of the general public, many of whom sensed no direct interest in colonial gains, but also among a part of the less cynical researchers and scholars, curious to truly learn and broaden their mind. Kind of a Yin and Yang effect, known from Chinese Taoism, or the folk knowledge, that with the good comes the bad (and vice versa).

Over time, with decolonization and increased condemnation of racism, cultural anthropology and museums devoted to it, also changed, of course.

Colonial interests and persisting racist ideas of Western superiority certainly tainted – and occasionally still taint - cultural anthropology, yet did/does not fully disqualify it as a good source of knowledge. The Amsterdam Tropenmuseum has proven this over time with very interesting, and truly insightful exhibitions about cultures on all continents, though perhaps with here and there some omissions, partial misrepresentations, or mistakes.

EXHIBITION ABOUT BLACK MUSIC

The recent ‘Rhythm & Roots’ exhibition at the Tropenmuseum is also certainly an interesting and insightful one, as I experienced. Before I went to visit it, its premise and presentation – as musical journey - through media seemed rather vague to me, despite its subtitle, mentioning blues and hiphop: What music exactly? What roots and rhythm? Specific genres? What aspects of music? In the presentation text was stated that “of many genres we know today the origins are African”, making the premise less vague, giving at least a direction. About Black music and its development, perhaps?

When I went it turned out to be just that: “Black music” genres in the Americas and their history, as well as music genres in Africa itself, such as Ghanaian Highlife and Nigerian Juju (or: Jùjú) music.

Information, photos, items (James Brown’s “cape” for instance), and music and sound/film were combined at each display panel, dedicated to different genres. The first genre was Jazz, followed by, to name most, Gospel, Blues, Rock & Roll, Soul, Funk, Samba and related genres, Mambo and Salsa (and related genres), Rumba, Highlife, Juju (of which e.g. King Sunny Adé is a known exponent), Reggae and related genres, and Hip-hop and Rap.

Thus, it was in broad lines chronological. Hip-hop was at the physical end of the exhibition, and originated in the early 1980s, Jazz close to the start and originated around 1900, Rhythm & Blues in the 1940s, Funk and Soul in the 1960s, Reggae in the late 1960s (etcetera, etcetera), Not fully, though. In between these genres there were information panels/stands on – or mentioning - older (Latin American and African) genres, such as Samba, originating – like Jazz - around 1900, and Cuban Rumba, of which the origins date all the way back to the 1880s.

INFORMATION

Having acquired quite some knowledge myself regarding some of these genres, I went and observed as a critical reviewer. The exhibition is evidently meant to educate a large, general public about these genres and their history. Is the information given - and spread - then correct?, the examples truly representative? etcetera etcetera. In other words, is the public informed correctly?

DEGREES OF KNOWLEDGE

The interesting thing is that during my visit I noticed how I have acquired knowledge about these genres, and its results. I had in fact differing degrees and levels of knowledge about the genres: I know most about Reggae, and less, but still quite a lot, about most of the other genres (Blues, Salsa, Hip-Hop, Funk). About Cuban music genres I acquired quite some knowledge by now as well.

On the other hand, about some genres, like Soul, Samba/Brazilian genres, Jazz or Gospel, I had a bit less detailed knowledge, as was the case of the African Highlife and Juju genres at this exhibition. This way I also learned and acquired knowledge, and not just applied my already present knowledge. Good for balance: you can only be smart if you’re willing to learn.

MISTAKES

Though not always dominant or frequent, I unfortunately noted some mistakes – based on my knowledge – in the information given at the exhibition’s panels, here and there. In some cases I thought: they should have consulted experts (or read a trustable standard work); since this is not correct. I did not even try to nit-pick. I start with the genre I - as readers of this blog may imagine - know most about: Reggae. And related genres.

REGGAE

The panel on Reggae seemed adequate as general overview – and with representative photos -, unfortunately the text with information has some mistakes.

First one: Reggae developed directly after Rocksteady, but was at first not “slower” than Rocksteady - as the text says -, but just different, and in fact at first (Early Reggae) often faster than much Rocksteady from the 1966-1968 period. After some years, Later Reggae (from about 1972) did slow down to become as slow or slower than Rocksteady was. Not initially, though.

BASS

Second mistake or doubtful fact, as can be read in the text: “The electric bass guitar is the most important instrument in a Reggae band..” I had doubts upon reading this. Is it not too simply put? What about the drums? Like in other Black music genres, the drums (and rhythm) seem crucial to me in Reggae, also as an evident connection (drum rhythm) to the African heritage.

In fact, other works or even more general sources – also quite public ones aimed at a broad public (like Wikipedia) – describe the drums as equally important in Reggae music (so, drum and bass).

MUSICIANS’ OPINIONS

Beyond such “detached” theoretical texts - or my own opinion -, I decided to consult actual musicians playing Reggae (and various instruments): people I know in the Netherlands. I myself play percussion and – probably, like trap drummers – tend to focus more on drum, so I wanted to ask people playing other or several instruments (guitar, bass, keyboard), who might have a more broad view on instruments in Reggae music.

Producer and musician Robert Curiel (I have recorded in his studio), based in Amsterdam, the Netherlands, agreed with me that stating the “bass guitar is the most important instrument in Reggae” is too simplistic. He does indicate, however, that basslines can form the essence of Reggae songs, and that when the bassline changes (although in the same chords), the song’s essence changes. In that sense the bass guitar is kind of a base, a bottom.

He, however, also points at the “refined and democratic” character of Reggae, and that he therefore "would almost say that every instrument is equally important" in it. He points out, though, that drum and bass certainly "make their big stamp" on Reggae, able to “give a song another feel in a jiffy".

Netherlands-based (multi-instrumentalist) musician (with a Surinamese background, like some of these other musicians) Sticko X, states that the bass guitar might perhaps be the most important instrument in Reggae, but also points out that the drum is still "number one" as it is the “heart beat” of Reggae,. On the other hand, he said, “without the bass, well..”

Kodjo, another musician who plays several instruments and organizes jams in Zaandam (close to Amsterdam) – jams in which I participated at times –, had some doubts about the claimed bass guitar’s sole prime importance, pointing also at the (at least) equal importance of the drums in Reggae.

Someone else I know, Ras Amos, who is a musician (bass, guitar a.o.) as well as organizer in the Dutch Rastafari community, emphasized to me that “all instruments are important”. Yet, he further elaborated that “bass and drums are at the top", and that the bass is hereby “leading”.

Leading is not the same as “most important” as the text at the exhibition says. An interesting philosophical issue by itself – “leading” and “importance” are not the same -, but it would be an off-topic digression in this post, haha..

In the same vein, another musician I know, Biko – known as “bass man” (he played with Rude Rich & the High Notes), although he plays other instruments as well – terms the bass guitar’s role in Reggae definitely as “leading” over other instruments, in initiating changes/breaks that the other instruments then follow, and also because it is behind the main, vocal melody (including chords) of the song.

Again, “leading” is however not the same as “most important”. I argue that you need to hear the heart beat (drums, and other instruments) as well, to really experience it as Reggae.

I conclude from this that both bass and drums are relatively important in Reggae, but that all instruments have importance, in a quite democratic musical context. The bass guitar can be considered "leading", but the drums as equally crucial as the "heart beat".

SEMI-MELODIC?

I also had doubts about how the text continues about “how the bass in Reggae plays no melodies as such”, but “clear rhythms”. I argue, instead, that the bass guitar in Reggae is overall not “just rhythmic”, as said in the exhibition text, but “semi-melodic”. Often even just “melodic”. It has a strong rhythmic feel, but in many Reggae songs bassline melodies (albeit with a rhythmic feel) can certainly be discerned. It depends on how you define “melody”, I think. A recurring pattern of tones, I would say. I play talking drum at times, so I found the text’s comparison of the bass guitar in Reggae with the talking drum charming (also because it is an African connection). You can actually play semi-melodically with the mentioned talking drum too, which supports my argument that the bass in Reggae is at least “semi-melodic”.

Yet, since they draw parallels with African percussion in the exhibition, an interesting one they could have made is one between the bass guitar in Reggae and bass drums used in traditional African percussive ensembles (such as the Dundun, or other bigger, lower-pitched drums). These bass drums tend to play in most African traditional music “bottom-line”, basic (repeated) rhythms (or semi-melodies) to which other drums respond, or improvise around. In that sense the bass guitar’s role in Reggae represents an interesting African retention (through a modern, electrical instrument), also because the bass guitar is the main chording instrument in Reggae, while in other genres it is often the (higher-toned) guitar or piano.

SKA

Ska, preceding Reggae historically, also had a separate panel. It is good that its text pointed at the importance of the recently deceased Prince Buster, that he is mentioned. Yet I doubt the veracity of what is stated in the panel’s text: that he (Buster) – or he alone – originated the Ska rhythm as such. This was rather an organic process going on since around 1960 among a group of musicians, including those forming the Skatalites.

The text on Ska had another crucial mistake. It states that “Rocksteady is a less hectic form of Ska”. Rocksteady is not a form, nor a variant of Ska: it is a separate genre developed in Jamaica around 1966, after (and not within) Ska. Just one example of where an expert source would have helped to correct the mistake.

An omission is further that Mento (not the same as Calypso), a local Jamaican folk music is not mentioned. Mento influenced Ska (and Reggae) too, and also Latin American/Cuban genres (along with Calypso) influenced Ska, which is neither mentioned.

DUB & DANCEHALL

Unfortunately, even more mistaken – or perhaps: “confusing” – was the text on Dub & Dancehall – as variants of Reggae -, another separate panel at the exhibition. Deejay’s improvised, that is true, but not so much over “repeated musical phrases or breaks” as the text says (and even emphasizes). I am afraid there is a mix-up with Rap or Hip-hop here. The first dee-jay’s in Jamaica (Toasters or others) improvised vocals over “instrumentals”. Instrumental versions of songs, or Dubs.

These “repeated musical phrases or breaks” are presented as “Dub” or “Dubs” in the text. I do not really understand the “repeating” that is spoken of here. Dub is essentially “remixing” songs (originally vocal songs mostly): fading in and out instruments and vocals, using sound effects (including echo, reverb). It is not a matter of “repeating phrases or breaks in a song/instrumental”. That is simply mistaken, and not how Dub was first developed by King Tubby. It is good that King Tubby is mentioned, though, as Dub’s true pioneer. According to the text, King Tubby shares that status with Lee Perry: this is not entirely correct. Perry was “influential”, but not “founding” or “originating” regarding Dub, as King Tubby was.

I base all my critique – it is important to point out - on expert works and sources – Reggae experts and historians – I read, heard or saw over the years. Many found through public sources. Some of these mistakes surprise me therefore somewhat.

The explanation later in the text about “a digital rhythm played too fast by accident” might seem more true, but is also kind of problematic, in my opinion. What is true, is that the digital Casio-based rhythm for Wayne Smith’s ‘Under Me Sleng Teng’ (1984) - inaugurating dancehall’s digital phase (also called “Ragga”) - might have been stumbled upon by accident. It might, however, also have been an unusual creative idea, not so much a “mistake”.

Terminology is further a problem here: Early Dancehall (on non-digital “Rockers” rhythms) – Brigadier Jerry, Burro Banton, Yellowman a.o., - called Rub-A-Dub - is not distinguished from Digital Dancehall or Ragga that arose in the later 1980s.

OMISSIONS

Besides mistaken information, or wrong facts, some facts were left unmentioned in these Reggae-related texts, that nonetheless would fit the exhibition’s implicit premise. I especially mean the African origins. At the very least, the influence of African-based or neo-African rhythm and drum patterns on Reggae and other Jamaican music – such as from Nyabinghi, Burru and Kumina drumming – could have been given attention.

Also, some more influential Reggae artists and individuals could have been mentioned, such as U-Roy or Alton Ellis, and others deserving credit.

CUBAN MUSIC

I know by now quite something about Cuban music as well, through other sources and works of course. I therefore could be analytical and critical regarding the texts about Cuban genres at the exhibition as well.

RUMBA

Cuban Rumba developed, as I said, since the 1880s, in Cuba. Quite some time ago, during the late end of legal slavery in Cuba (lasting up to 1886!). Specifically in the Cuban cities of Matanzas and Havana, with large Afro-Cuban populations, able to maintain part of their African heritages.

The text about Rumba at the exhibition says: “Rumba is a form of dance music that comes mainly from Cuba, having developed from Congolese music”. According to most scholars on Cuban history, Rumba indeed derives at least partly from African musical traditions from the Congo region, as African slaves from that region were also quite prominent culturally in Matanzas, as Rumba originated. It is only partly though, as other parts of Africa contributed as well to the different types of Rumba: through slaves from e.g. the Calabar region (Nigeria/Cameroon area), from the Yoruba region (now Nigeria/Benin), and especially also Gangá slaves (from what is now the Sierra Leone region). That Rumba is derived from Congolese music is thus somewhat too simplified and limited.

MAMBO AND SALSA

Another section/panel was devoted to Mambo and Salsa. Salsa could of course not be absent in such an exhibition with this theme, justly with specific attention. I could understand a bit less, though, why Mambo is chosen as other point of entry, though there might be arguments in favour of it. Perhaps it was during some historical epochs a relatively commercial and internationalized Cuban genre, unlike other Cuban genres (Rumba, Son), that spread (then) less outside of Cuba.

In the description of Salsa in the text, underneath Mambo, mistakes again slip in. How Salsa is described would according to many be incorrect. Salsa appeared as music genre under that name in the 1970s in New York, among the Latino population there. The text at the exhibition describes it as a combination of Mambo, Rumba and Son Montuno, along with some other influences (Puerto Rican ones for instance). The problem with this description is that Mambo was in itself Son Montuno-influenced, and that the importance of the Son Montuno genre is here unjustly downplayed. Son and Son Montuno are genres originating in Eastern Cuba that would be very influential in the whole of Cuba, becoming popular in Havana by the 1920s. From there it went abroad and to the US.

Perhaps it is better to say – purely judging by musical characteristics – that Son Montuno is not “one of the” several influences on Salsa, but in fact the main one, as many Cubans and others argue. Many even say that Salsa is just about 70% Son Montuno. Mambo is comparably less important for Salsa’s origins, despite what the text says. Rumba and Puerto Rican (Bomba and other) influences are certainly noticeable in Salsa as well, but Salsa’s main base and source remains, according to most sources, (East Cuban) Son Montuno. Good to recognize, I think.

RAP

The text on Rap seemed largely correct, as far as I could tell. I know, admittedly, a bit less about it than about Reggae, though I am quite interested in it. This time, however, there was a “mistake” in the visual, photo part of the section/panel. This included after all an album cover (album ‘Forces of Victory’) of Linton Kwesi Johnson (LKJ). This is not a Rap artist, but a Reggae “Dub poet”, based in Britain. LKJ/Johnson is therefore not a rapper, but a Reggae artist. Kind of odd, this mistake, because even if people do not know Linton Kwesi Johnson, it is easy to find songs by him on the Internet nowadays.

I limit my “critical review” to these genres and parts of the exhibition (related to Reggae and Cuban music), because I have the most knowledge about them, and can therefore evaluate more objectively, meaningfully, and factually. Critique without knowledge – quite common in society, unfortunately – shows after all a negative, unintelligent, and jealous mind-set. Objective critique based on knowledge – on the other hand – is mostly positive and educational.

Others can do this of course with genres they know more about..

CONCLUSION

The exhibition was nicely organized, and included per genre panel/section, beyond texts and information, also music examples – well-chosen and quite representative –, photos, and special items. All in all it was quite entertaining. Added to this was the possibility to “play” different (mainly) traditional African instruments through pads.

Even several instruments at once, providing in my opinion a good participatory and educational aspect. The opening section referred to the slave trade between Africa and the Americas, and displayed traditional (mainly African) instruments, which I found interesting, especially the older mbira’s and sansa’s (thumb piano’s) and the drums.

After this came the mentioned stands/panels per genre: first Jazz, then Blues, Gospel, Funk, and the other ones I mentioned and reviewed critically.

Visually, the exhibition was also attractive and well-designed, I must say. Further: a good, overall overview was given, with much interesting information, photos/album covers, and nice, groovy music to listen to. In that sense I found the exhibition at least “okay”, if a bit vague in its intentions or goals.

However, there were – as I have demonstrated – some mistakes in texts of at least certain sections. Some were more disturbing than others. Expert sources should have been used more, here and there, for the Reggae-related sections. At the very least, important people – also in the Reggae-related sections/panels – were mentioned, like Prince Buster, King Tubby, Lee Perry, though more artists could have been mentioned. There were also some other omissions.

It is unfortunate that some mistakes were disseminated this way to the general public, through the texts here and there in the exhibition. This can even have an even worse effect, as such exhibitions from prominent museums possess among the public the assumption of being “authoritative” on the matter. It might well have been the case that the organizers of the exhibition themselves – in preparing it - presumed certain people or sources on Reggae or Cuban music unjustly as “authoritative” or “experts”.

Commenting on the "rude boy phenomenon"

I am not a big fan of Hollywood movies. Overall, I find most commercialised “blockbuster” movies from the Hollywood quarters too superficial, unintelligent, stereotypical, simplistic, and even unrealistic. Many are violent or simply immoral. This is not to say that I never find a Hollywood movie to be somehow entertaining, and in a more indirect way even “educational”. Perhaps educational in the sense of “learning from your mistakes”, but still educational. Some rare Hollywood movies/film go somewhere beyond bad taste or superficiality. For example, in my opinion the movie ‘Philadelphia’ (with among others Tom Hanks and Denzel Washington) was such a positive, “deeper” exception.

FOCUS

A recent (2015) US Hollywood movie/film I saw in the cinema was ‘(Never Lose) Focus’, featuring among others Will Smith. The film was entertaining, helped perhaps - as so often - by overwhelming imagery, and by the presence of humour. It had, however, many of the main flaws I mentioned concerning Hollywood movies: it was superficial, immoral, and probably unrealistic. It was a movie about a group of “smart” criminals and thieves, using many cunning tricks to rob money from all kinds of people (no, not only the rich). Definitely not original this theme, and I am afraid that in this romanticizing, clear echoes of Quentin Tarantino’s movies show. I find Tarantino as a filmmaker – despite his hip “cult status” – overrated.

There is a danger in this that has of course been acknowledged before. The movie ‘Focus’ conveyed as main message that “weakness”, apparently defined as being unfocussed – or in turn too attached - emphatic or emotional, had to be punished and profited from. In short, the basic, cynical, criminal logic: weakness leads to victimization. This message might influence life style choices by young, susceptible people who search a solution but lack a solid moral grounding, intelligence, or empathy. Like I said, this has been acknowledged and commented enough in the past, also academically. It has been exaggerated perhaps by some, or criticized selectively with own agendas, but I am afraid such spectacular, if cynical and “criminality romanticizing” movies do influence people toward wrong life choices. Probably many people seeing such movies are intelligent and moral enough to put all this in perspective, but many others are – I think – not.

The same applies of course to the much-criticized “gangsta rap/hip-hop” and the values this seems to promote. I recognize that there is also a danger of “bad influence”, but not less than Hollywood or Tarantino films, I argue. The only added psychological risk is that the “racial underdog” image of this type of hip-hoppers who happen to be black, attract copying by vulnerable (racial/ethnic) “outsider” groups who, for lacking proper moral and social guides, get taken away by this commercialized hip-hip presenting (like Tarantino) crime as a “cool” way of life.

The risks involved in a life of crime – being punishable by law, having to hide etcetera – are a deterrent, but some have not much to lose, or lack other options in life. Some people are more easily influenced by media images and portrayals than others, of course. Even if in such movies, criminals kill, fool, or act violent toward each other, the life style portrayed is one of suspense, spectacular parties, wild and rough sex, instant satisfaction, and fun. All part of the illusive life and false pretence criminals prefer to create around them, perhaps to cloud their shame and guilty conscience. This was also the case in the movie ‘Focus’.

RUDE BOY

It was also the case in another movie I saw on criminality called ‘Rude Boy : the Jamaican Don’, somewhat older, from 2003. This film portrayed Jamaicans and was set in the US and Jamaica, and featured appearances of some musical artists (Beenie Man, Marcia Griffiths, Jimmy Cliff, and Ninja Man). The leading part was by an actor who I have seen before, called Mark Danvers. Danvers seems to be a fine actor and also has I think a nice, expressive face, which might help.

JAMAICAN FILM GENRES

Meanwhile (let’s say the last two decades) there has developed a whole subgenre of Jamaican or Jamaican-set movies involving criminal life, mostly through the plot of a criminal working himself up in the gangster hierarchy. Movies like ‘Kingston 12’, ‘Garrison’, and ‘Third World Cop’ all deal with criminality and are (more than the ‘Rude Boy’ movie) set in Jamaica itself. They mostly are entertaining, although some seem to be aimed more at the international market, than others (spoken only in Jamaican Patois/Creole). ‘Third World Cop’ - internationally marketed - is for instance worth a watch (it’s on YouTube). It’s probably from his role in 'Third World Cop' that I remember the mentioned Mark Danvers from. There are –admittedly – what some might call “B-movies” among these Jamaican “crime” movies, but also several better or okay ones. A sub-sub genre of this genre are movies involving also Jamaican migrants in the US. That Jamaica is a country with relatively much violent (gang-related) crime makes this – one might argue – realistic, but I ask then: what is the causal relation?

Typically Jamaican developments also find their ways to movies/films. The mixture of partisan politics and crime and violence is one such aspect: political parties JLP and PNP funded (and armed) supporters to “control” certain areas, such as downtown “ghetto” areas of Kingston. This was meant to secure patronage – financial dependency on policians – as well as to ensure votes and loyalty from areas. This is enforced by gangs aligned with certain parties. Eventually, some of these “Dons” (criminal leaders) became more powerful than politicians, or even “the state” in certain parts of Kingston, though political patronage remained.

This following opinion might come close to sacrilege, according to some, but I will state it anyway: I find the first internationally known and much heralded 1972 Jamaican movie ‘The Harder They Come’ – with a young Jimmy Cliff as main actor - not so good or “classic”, as many claim. It was nice and entertaining - the plot was clear, the acting not bad, and the imagery nice-, but in it was my opinion too superficial to be really impressive. I commented before (I believe on this same blog) that one of its messages - or at least what the plot expressed – that an aspiring singer/musician became more interesting because he had become a gunman killing people, is simply immoral. In reality, I found the sound track of ‘The Harder They Come’ – with the “title track” and the good, emotive song ‘Many Rivers To Cross’, both by Cliff, better and more enduring than the movie itself.

EXPLANATIONS

In many Hollywood and other films/movies for a long time now (since the time of Western movies), the cheap thrill of an entertaining movie with suspense and spectacle and a clear plot and story, has taken precedence over sociological explanations of crime or violence in the same film.

Overall, Hollywood (including Tarantino) is in this case even worse than that Jamaican subgenre of “crime movies”. In Jamaican films, such social backgrounds of ghetto life and deprivation and exclusion – stimulating crime – are often at least hinted at, albeit seldom very “deep” or philosophical. In that sense ‘The Harder They Come’ reflected a reality: people from rural areas go reside in poor ghettos of Jamaica’s capital, but do not make it as they hoped, and turn somewhat cynical (and criminal). Disillusioned youths turning to antisocial behaviour, or simply crime, is a common fact in Jamaican (and indeed worldwide) history.

RUDE BOYS AND JAMAICAN POPULAR MUSIC

The aforementioned movie from 2003 was named ‘Rude Boy (the Jamaican Don)’. The slang term ‘Rude Boy’ has a longer history in Jamaica, as does the term “Don” for a gang leader of the subtitle. The term “Rude Boy” for an unruly, or delinquent, youth goes back to at least the early 1960s in Jamaica. Songs in the Jamaican music genres Ska (which arose around 1960) and Rocksteady (around 1966) attest to this. The next Jamaican genre that developed from these earlier ones, Reggae, continue the discussion of the “Rude Boy” phenomenon in many of its lyrics. .

Interestingly, and many more knowledgeable of Jamaican music already know this, this commenting of “Rude Boys” is often critical of these criminals and criminality. It is true that there are also “glorifying” and “romanticizing” lyrics regarding crime and rude boys (also called “rudies” or “bad boys”), but the balance tends toward critique of it and them. Positively, this critique of rude boys at least points at the presence of a solid, moral and humanitarian foundation in Jamaican culture. Criminals in high and low places – including those with a “criminal mentality” in powerful places – are often specialized in intimidation, manipulation, and power play, and can therefore be more influential in a society. Both intimidation and manipulation (or “lying”) are part and parcel of the criminal life style. Without exception, I would say. Somewhat simplified I can state it like this: not everyone who once in a while lies is by definition a criminal..but all criminals lie commonly. To the people around them, and also to themselves. They also tend to be specialized in manipulating the truth.

This is what I noticed in the ‘Rude Boy’ movie I mentioned before, and likewise in other such Jamaican films on criminals. Rastafari-derived imagery and terminology is used in Rude Boy and other movies, also by people involved in a criminal, gangster life style. This is evidently hypocritical and false. I personally object to it too, and find it immoral.

JAMAICAN SOCIAL CONTEXT

Still.. There is a deeper sociological layer behind this which is worth to delve into. I am talking about the specific Jamaican social context. Now and historically. The choice for a criminal life style is often related to degrees of poverty and exclusion. This makes sense, though of course not in an absolute sense. There are correlations though. If one could earn enough money (through some regular job) to live well, without having to be calculatedly violent against people, or hide from the police and other criminals, many would not turn to crime. That is self-evident.

The popular music genres that originated in Jamaica – Ska, Rocksteady, and Reggae (the latter existing since about 1968) – are interesting lyrically in this regard. I argue that where there is a lack of “depth” and analysis in Hollywood (and some Jamaican) film portrayals of criminals and criminality, in Jamaican music lyrics the contrary is true: crimes and criminality are analyzed with depth throughout the several lyrics. This is helped by the fact that in Jamaican music genres, lyrics tend to be topical and socially conscious, unlike genres focussed lyrically mainly on love, parties, or sex.

Jamaican popular music developed especially among the poorer part of people in the ghettos of Jamaica. In Kingston, but with rural influences: many musicians settled in Kingston ghetto’s from rural parts of Jamaica. Not just musicians, of course. The migration from impoverished rural areas to main cities is a worldwide phenomenon, being more intensive and enduring in developing countries like Jamaica. These migrants sought opportunities for work, and many got disillusioned over time with “mainstream” economy and working as labourer in companies, often lacking stable incomes, or ending up unemployed. This context – or you might say: vacuum – is an intensive and multidimensional one, albeit ruled by despair. Life choices then become more urgent and significant, directly connected with human dignity and survival. There are less “positive progress” possibilities in such a context. Out of pain comes the best art; it is in this disadvantaged “ghetto” context that Jamaica’s music originated and developed creatively, with all its versatility. It is in this same context, that Rastafari provided a moral and spiritual, righteous answer to life’s problems and limitations. Yet, sadly, it also is the same context in which popular crime and violence increased.

The good and bad are thus intertwined or at least close to each other, and this has several dimensions. One is a confusing one: sharing a context/situation, but different life choices. On the other hand, exactly this contradiction improves a genuine and veracious analysis of crime as phenomenon. Better, arguably, than some scholars with a middle-class status who grew up in a family and neighbourhood with likewise a middle-class status, and for whom crime is “something far away from them”, no matter how much “field work” or study partly compensates this.

JAMAICAN LYRICS ON CRIME

The interesting question I try to answer in the remainder of this post is this one: what do Jamaican music lyrics (Ska, Rocksteady, and Reggae) say about crime and criminals among common people in (this case) Jamaica, and what does this teach us external studies cannot?

SKA

Ska arose as one of the first “own” music genres developed and originated by Jamaicans themselves around 1960. There were political changes then that promised social changes: Jamaica became independent of Britain in 1962. This lead to optimism among many common people, including a more assertive presentation of identity. Ska was part of that, and expressed this “joy” more or less in its musical and dance characteristics, especially “Early Ska”. As social inequality however remained, and a new, local elite largely took over from the British, this optimistic feeling largely waned over time. Unruly and criminal youth, despair and violence in poor areas all came to the fore, appearing also in lyrics. The Rude Boys were perhaps a nuisance but were at least part of the common, poorer folks, some artists reasoned. This includes the Wailers who wrote some more or less “apologetic” lyrics about “Rudies” too long in jail, although the first big Wailers hit, ‘Simmer Down’ (1964) warned the Rude Boys also to beware and not disturb anymore.

Another artist starting in the Ska era, the legendary Alton Ellis, objected to this defending of violent Rudies by the Wailers and others. Apparently he found this to be immoral, and advised the Rude Boys to leave violence and criminality and pursue other life choices, boxer, preacher etcetera. Titles of fine Alton Ellis songs like ‘Dance Crasher’ (1965), ‘Don’t Trouble People’ (1966), or ‘Cry Tough’ (1966) say enough. These are musically great “Late” Ska songs, a bit slower and “bluesier” than earlier Ska. I also like Ellis’s soulful singing, of course. .

Stranger Cole’s ‘Rough and Tough” (1963) is known as one of the earliest released, critical lyrics on rude boys in Jamaican popular music, dated 1963.

Other artists like Prince Buster, Desmond Dekker, the Rulers, and Derrick Morgan wrote in this period also about “rude boys” (continuing partly in the following Rocksteady and Reggae periods), mostly – but not always – critically. Another nice, later example of lyrics criticizing crime is Bob Andy’s soulful, “Late Ska” of ‘Crime Don’t Pay’ (1966), in which “Rudie” is rhymed with “cops might get moody”..

ROCKSTEADY

Later that decade, around 1966, another, slower genre developed from Ska, called Rocksteady, after a transition period. By 1966 the Rude Boy has become a common phenomenon among youth in Jamaica, and became part of the music audience, according to some even shaping tastes. Celebratory, noncritical songs and lyrics were also made and released by artists like Prince Buster targeting (and thus positive) about the Rudie market and audience. Also Desmond Dekker, the Clarendonians, the Pioneers, the Rulers and others had such apparently less-than-critical songs on the Rudie culture (albeit not always explicitly), with a title like ‘Hard Man Fe Dead’ (Prince Buster) showing this kind of rude boy bravado.

Again, this shows that the rude boys belong to the same social (under)class as most of these musicians: both the uncritical identification, as the “fatherly” or “motherly” advise and critique combined with care as one has toward siblings. Either way, criminal and violent youth in a community affect that community most: wealthier people have means and ways to protect and remove themselves from this annoyance. Unfortunately, a common strain in human history is that “crime” and “criminality” (with differing definitions at times) is used by such elite classes to keep lower classes in their place. Jamaican musicians mostly criticize from a lower position, as likewise victims of the system, but prefer to act wiser and more moral when compared to the violent rude boys. Some artists wrote both celebratory and (later) critical songs on rude boys.

One of the first songs in the Rocksteady genre (that title is contested) is by Derrick Morgan, the groovy, catchy song ‘Tougher Than Tough (Rudie in court)’ (1966). Its lyrics seem to defend the rude boys, but Morgan later explained that such positive lyrics were “forced or intimidated out of him” by one notorious gangster or rude boy. Ironically yet tellingly, this particular gangster Morgan wrote the song for, could hear the song played in the dance once, but soon after was shot to death in a dispute.

Several “reggae historians” point out that the rude boys influenced the development toward Rocksteady as a slower, more “cool” music genre. I heard other explanations as well: Rocksteady developed in a studio, strictly among musicians experimenting with slowing down Ska. Another contender for first Rocksteady song, and also a nice one, is Hopeton Lewis’s ‘Take It Easy’ (1966), who attributes this songs then unusual characteristics to music studio experiments, and thus not rude boy demands.

Other sources claim that increased violence in Jamaica, persisting poverty, and disillusion with progress even after independence, changed the musical mood from “joyous” to “reflective” or “sadder”, which sounds plausible to me. This is, I think, one of the explanations, but perhaps the rude boy audiences and tastes and – on the other hand - musicians innovating also had influences. Truth is not always one-dimensional. Besides, explaining the slower Rocksteady beat through rude boy tastes also puzzles me a bit. Are criminals or gangster inclined to “slower” music? I doubt that for some reason.

Still, in the by the way very readable and educational guide to Reggae music (which is much more than a annotated discography) called ‘The Rough Guide to Reggae’ by Steve Barrow and Peter Dalton (published 2001) the authors go as far to term “Rude Boy music” as an influential subgenre in the period between Ska and Rocksteady, pointing also at a generational issue, as Ska for some youth had something “adult” in some way. I myself however still insist that Rocksteady originated from different influences, not just rude boys.

Critique of gangsters and rude boys continued in many Rocksteady lyrics – besides love and socially themed songs of course – although there continued to be some celebrating of them as well.

REGGAE

Around 1968 Reggae music developed from Rocksteady, also due to a combination of social and musical influences. Early Reggae from the period 1968 to around 1972 was faster than later reggae. Some “reggae historians” point out that in the transitional period between the end of Rocksteady and Early Reggae a more “pro-Rudie” feel was expressed in songs, probably due to the faster pace reggae had . Reggae was initially even faster than Rocksteady. Later reggae slowed down, and became (lyrically) relatively more spiritual and socially conscious.

Another readable and educational – but broader and more chaotic – guide to ‘Reggae & Caribbean music’ by Dave Thompson (2002) also points at an influence of rude boys on developing rocksteady, but also discusses “Rude Reggae” as part of the faster, Early Reggae, before increased Rastafari influence in the 1970s. The other work I mentioned, by Steve Barrow and Peter Dalton, and this one also discuss Skinhead Reggae, referring to reggae’s internationalization in Britain. In some way the violent and aggressive “skinheads” can be seen as white, British versions of Jamaican rudeboys, perhaps they copied it, who knows. Skinheads became known as racist and anti-immigrant as well, although this is disputed and applies according to some skinheads only to certain subgroups: other skinhead subcultures in parts of Britain were multiracial, with white and black Britons socializing.

Apparently, the slower tempo, but also the increasing influence of Rastafari, Black nationalism, social critique, and spirituality of later reggae, since around 1973 – known also as Roots Reggae – were not appreciated by most skinheads. I imagine that in Jamaica itself a similar social process occurred, at least among a part of the music audiences and lovers. Rastafari represented a worldview aimed at moral Black upliftment, including spirituality. This was against – an antidote you might say – immoral crime, wickedness among Jamaican people, as criminals victimizing their own people only (at the end) support the oppressive “Babylon” system, ultimately based on violence as well. Justice and law were criticized by some Rastas for anti-marijuana laws or discrimination or unjust persecution of poor ghetto youth, but murderers, rapists, thieves and others attacking (also for political/partisan reasons) and abusing members of their own community were criticized strongly by Rastafari-inspired Reggae artists.

Many, many lyrics of course attest to this of virtually all reggae icons. This shows that crime, gangs, and violence were common problems in poverty-ridden areas of suffering, excluded people in Jamaican ghetto’s. Rastafari provided a better "answer" and identity (based on Black pride) according to these artists and other Rastafari-adherents. This was from the perspective of people from the same poor community thus affected by it, again: not by politicians or others powers that be, using the presence of crime in poor areas as divisive or oppressive mechanism.

I can give examples of reggae lyrics criticizing criminality and criminal ways of life, but in reality there are too many to mention. Some have “Rude Boy” in the title, a term that has proved to be enduring. The recent “club favourite” (at least in clubs I frequent here in the Netherlands) ‘Rude Boy Shufflin’ (1995) by Israel Vibration being a recent example, as is Don Carlos’s 2010 but rootsy song ‘Rude Boy’ (from the album Changes), Culture’s ‘Cousin Rude Boy’ (from the 1989 album Good Things) and Bushman’s (dancehall) songs ‘Rude Boy Life’ (on Bushman's 1996 album Nyah Man Chant), and ‘Rude Boy’.

The term Rude Boy or Bad Man, or broader “bad mind” or “wicked” people, is mentioned throughout much of 1970s and 1980s Roots Reggae, as I said: too many to mention. “Wolves in sheep clothing”, who live as criminals but have taken on Rasta imagery are also understandably vilified. That one wants to join a movement without proper knowledge is odd, that one does not show it too much in one’s life style (working for the system, no dietary restrictions) is a pity and superficial, but false Rastas “fighting against their own brethren and sistren” (stealing, warring and otherwise) are even worse.

Ghetto life and criminality all recur throughout these Roots Reggae lyrics as part of the common social critique in it, crucially: “from within”. It is here that the deeper “wisdom” lies of Roots Reggae lyrics on rude boys and criminality and gangsters, be it by Bob Marley & the Wailers, the Wailing Souls, Culture, Hugh Mundell, Dennis Brown, Bunny Wailer, Israel Vibration, Black Uhuru, Horace Andy, Twinkle Brothers, Junior Delgado, the Mighty Diamonds, the Itals, Mutabaruka, Ini Kamoze or any other reggae icons: “who lives it knows it”.

I can name some classic songs I liked on this theme, but there are so many that an explanatory “bird view” seemed more appropriate. Alright, I’ll name a few: ‘General Penitentiary’ by Black Uhuru, the beautiful 'Are We A Warrior' by Ijahman Levi, ‘Lift Up Your Conscience’ by Israel Vibration, ‘Why Me Black Brother Why?’ by the Mighty Diamonds, or less well-known, Gregory Isaacs’ ‘Way Of Life’, are examples from 1970s and early 1980s Roots Reggae that self-respecting reggae fans should at least know, but these are but examples of many, and I probably still forgot some crucial ones.

These lyrics mostly depict ghetto life, and therefore recur in the lyrics of most Roots Reggae artists, alongside more spiritual and “international” or historical themes (that of course are all interrelated).

Lyrically interesting are in this regard, besides singers and groups, certainly songs by ”conscious” rhythmic vocalizing (“chatting”) “toasters” and dee-jay’s like Big Youth, I-Roy, Jah Stitch, Prince Fari and others.

The extent and form of violence and criminality even increased in severity in the 1980s and 1990s, especially related to gangs with power in certain quarters, aided by political patronage and active in the international cocaine trade, being much more violent and extreme than the ganja/marijuana trade longer common in Jamaica. Of course these changes in social reality reflected in lyrics of musical artists, but Jamaica’s music kept evolving and changing as well.

DANCEHALL AND NEW ROOTS

The earlier 1980s was the period of Early Dancehall – with still much Roots Reggae influences - , and after 1984 Digital Dancehall arose, and the reworking of existing instrumentals/riddims (out of economic restrictions) became more common. These are all musical changes, but lyrically comments on crime and ghetto life continued by some artists, but in this regard came also changes.

Roots Reggae artists, or often Rastafari-inspired artists in later Dancehall, since the 1980s, were as said critical of crime and criminals troubling people of their own community and therefore part of the system (Babylon). This critique of crime and violence continued in fine songs by artist like Barrington Levy, Michael Prophet , Half Pint, Don Carlos, Gregory Isaacs and others. In the later 1980s, however, some artists started celebrating “slackness” and “badness”, which included sexual braggadocio, excessive “bragging” and self-aggrandizing (often with some humour, must be said), but also seemed to glorify violence and crime at times. This often had irony and deliberate exaggeration for effect, but could be called even then “celebratory” of a “Rude Boy” type of mentality or life style.. Such lyrics unfortunately partly reflected the reality of increased and extended (gun) crime in Jamaica by the later 1980s..

RASTA RENAISSANCE

Such “Slackness” lyrics remained a time dominant in Jamaican popular music (think of artists like Cutty Ranks, Ninjaman, Yellowman, Shabba Ranks, Tiger, Mad Cobra and others), but as more often in Jamaican and world history the balance kept swinging: action-reaction, and a more “conscious” Rastafari (often of the Bobo Ashanti mansion: a sub-group within Rastafari)-influenced current arose within Dancehall Reggae in the course of the 1990s, including artists like Sizzla, Anthony B, Junior Reid, Tony Rebel, Turbulence, Jah Mason, Warrior King, I Wayne, Lutan Fyah, Luciano, and later converts Buju Banton and Capleton (who actually started with some lyrically Slackness-and Rudie-like songs). This Rastafari-influenced current is called the Rasta Renaissance or Revival in Dancehall/Reggae – some call it: New Roots -, and is still very present and active in Jamaican popular music and among international reggae fans by 2015 (as I write this), represented by said and others artists, both dee jays/chatters as singers. Other artists inspired by Rastafari (apparently not so much associated with the Bobo Ashanti subgroup) like Tarrus Riley, Bushman, Richie Spice, Chronixx, Protoje, Jesse Royal, Jah9, Queen Ifrica (a biological daughter of the mentioned Derrick Morgan by the way), and several others, followed in this current and are active and popular now.

In the lyrics of these latter artists a more ”righteous” moral stance is taken when discussing local conditions, against wickedness and crime/criminality in high and low places, alongside (again) lyrics on related themes regarding history, inequality, spirituality, Marcus Garvey, Africa, and Haile Selassie I.

Other artists still tend to Slackness lyrics (Vybz Kartel for instance), or confusingly mix Rasta terms and imagery with Slackness or “Gangster-like” terms and imagery, but the balance seems to have swayed in this time to another, more “conscious” (crime-condemning) direction, which I think is a positive development. Beyond the Jamaican context, I think it also is a very “human” development, when actions and movements are countered with different actions and movements, including contrasting mindsets alongside shared variables.

CONCLUSION

On a final note, I come back to my earlier point and argue that studying all these lyrics in Jamaican music overall will provide a realistic, deep, and extensive insight in the development and beackground of crime and criminality among disadvantaged people: its context, complexities, and consequences. Not just in Jamaica, I opine. I further contend that this social insight is better and deeper - not to mention more realistic - than that gained from studying Hollywood or similar movies/films on more or less the same theme.

De invloeden van Jamaicaanse reggae op Doe Maar

De Nederlandse muziekband Doe Maar begon in 1978, en had een topperiode in voornamelijk Nederland – met meerdere hits – in de vroege jaren 80 van de 20ste eeuw. De eerste bezetting van de band Doe Maar kende onder anderen als lid Ernst Jansz (zang en toetsen) en Jan Hendriks (zang en gitaar). In deze eerste formatie – met ook Piet Dekker, Carel Copier en andere leden - werd een album opgenomen en in 1979 uitgebracht. Zoals met wel meer bands ontstonden er wrijvingen en formatiewisselingen. Dekker ging weg en de resterende bandleden zochten in hun netwerk naar een vervangende bassist. Jansz had toen al eens met Henny Vrienten gespeeld. Als nieuwe drummer kwam na het volgende album ‘Skunk’ (nog met Carel Copier) eerst René van Collem (later vervangen door Jan Pijnenburg), en op de bas en zang uiteindelijk Henny Vrienten.

Vanaf ongeveer 1980 ontstonden er ook muzikale wijzigingen. Het verhaal wil dat de “feestmuziek” en allegaartje van stijlen van het eerdere Doe Maar - nog op het titelloze album van 1979 - min of meer verlaten werd voor een welhaast exclusieve focus op reggae en ska. Blijkbaar was reggae/Jamaicaanse muziek geliefd bij meerdere bandleden, onder meer Vrienten. Enigszins tegen de verwachting in – in ieder geval van de platenmaatschappij – werd Doe Maar juist vanaf toen een stuk populairder bij een breed publiek in Nederland, met meerdere hooggenoteerde hits van de albums Skunk (1981), ‘Doris Day & Andere Stukken’ (1982) en ‘4us/Virus’ (1983). ‘32 Jaar’ was de eerste hit, en later kwamen ook onder meer ‘Is Dit Alles’, ‘Doris Day’, ‘De Bom’, ’Pa’, ‘1 Nacht Alleen’, ‘Macho’ hoog in de Nederlandse hitparade. Daarnaast gold ‘Nederwiet’ (van Skunk) als een soort culthit. Toen het hen allemaal teveel werd, stopte de band in 1984, zoals bij velen bekend zal zijn. Velen vonden – en vinden – Doe Maar de leukste Nederlandstalige band ooit.

Op onderstaande beelden uit 1981 drumt Carel Copier nog:



Op de beelden hieronder uit 1982 is de drummer inmiddels René van Collem:



Als reggae-fan vond ik Doe Maar ook leuk. Ik begon reggae te luisteren vanaf ongeveer 1984: eerst Bob Marley, dan Wailing Souls en vervolgens vrijwel alle reggae. Dit was na die piektijd van Doe Maar, maar wat verlaat begon ik in de latere jaren 80 hun liedjes te luisteren. Blijkbaar hielden de Doe Maar-bandleden ook van reggae net als ik, bedacht ik. Coole band! Leuke muziek, grappige teksten en interessante persoonlijkheden. Catchy songs ook wel. Wat reggae betreft hoefden ze mij natuurlijk niets te vertellen, maar ik vond het leuk dat ze als Nederlanders reggae probeerden te maken.

In het vervolg zal ik de songs van Doe Maar analyseren, vanuit het perspectief van degene die ik uiteindelijk ben geworden: een reggae-kenner. Intrigerend is de vraag of de reggae (en ska)-aspecten in de muziek van Doe Maar bijgedragen hebben aan hun relatief grote populariteit. Dat zou opvallend zijn omdat reggae eigenlijk altijd buiten de commerciële en gepromote mainstream is gebleven. Reggae bleef en blijft derhalve voornamelijk alternatief, hoewel internationaal populair. Dat kan aan de maatschappijkritische, vaak Rastafari-songteksten liggen en niet zozeer aan de muziektechnische kenmerken, maar ook de - echte, ongepolijste! - instrumentale reggae-muziek kan niet bepaald het lieverdje van de mainstream media genoemd worden. Toch werd Doe Maar begin jaren 80 populair. Vooral bij pubermeisjes, wil het cliché, wat mij niet zoveel zegt en ik zelfs positief vind, maar anderen zien dat blijkbaar als een diskwalificatie (misschien een vervelend zusje gehad?).

Een goede song is een goede song, van welk genre dan ook, en Vrienten en Jansz konden leuke liedjes schrijven, en ook goed spelen. Jansz en Vrienten hadden ook iets aantrekkelijks in hun uiterlijk, en als geheel straalde Doe Maar iets luchtigs/vrolijks en toch spannends uit. Dit alles, los van het genre, kan de populariteit verklaren, maar het onderscheidende kenmerk van Doe Maar – ten opzichte van andere Nederlandse bands bijvoorbeeld – was toch die reggae-invloed (en van ska: oudere Jamaicaanse muziek dus). Mogelijk was die reggae-invloed zelfs de basis van het succes.

In het vervolg van dit bericht wil ik daarom de volgende vraag nader onderzoeken en analyseren: hoe verhoudt Doe Maar zich tot de echte reggae (en andere Jamaicaanse muziek)? Ik heb het dan over de authentieke reggae uit Jamaica van ongeveer de tijd van hun successen, en wat eerder. Is de invloed van deze echte reggae verwaterd binnen Doe Maar gekomen of komt het zelfs in de buurt van “the real thing”?

Reggae werd internationaal populair, met name door de bekendheid van Bob Marley, sinds de jaren 70 van de 20ste eeuw. Aan het einde van de jaren 60 ontstonden er in Groot-Brittannie en al snel ook andere Europese landen reggae-scenes, in ieder geval veel mensen die het gingen luisteren. Bij een deel van de Nederlandse reggae-fans was er - dit cliché is een beetje waar - een connectie met marijuana en de coffeeshop-cultuur.

De jaren 70, met name vanaf ongeveer 1972, waren de toptijd van de vaak Rastafari-geïnspireerde "roots reggae" in Jamaica. Bob Marley werd toen internationaal het bekendst, maar meerdere talentvolle artiesten en bands op Jamaica bereikten internationaal liefhebbers. Goede zangers en songwriters, goed gespeelde muziek, innovatieve producers. Een creatieve piek, die tot in de jaren 80 voortduurde. Echte reggae-fans begonnen ook Jamaicaanse harmony vocals groepen als the Wailing Souls, the Itals, Israel Vibration en Culture te waarderen, evenals individuele zangers als Burning Spear, Dennis Brown, Gregory Isaacs, Ijahman Levi, Jacob Miller, Hugh Mundell, en vernieuwers als Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry en King Tubby. Deze laatste kan de uitvinder van de dub worden genoemd. Zowel vocaal als instrumentaal gebeurde er veel interessants op Jamaica, ook gevolgd door reggae-fans in Nederland sinds eind jaren 60.

Toen kwam rond 1980 Doe Maar ten tonele. Ze moeten ook door de genoemde artiesten beïnvloed zijn, of werden ze dat toch vooral door de bekende Bob Marley?

Ik ga dat vergelijkenderwijs na door een aantal redelijk representatieve songs en de albums van Doe Maar af te zetten tegen de Jamaicaanse standaard van de tijd (en iets eerder). Ik heb hierbij vooral een descriptief en niet zozeer een normatief doel. Doe Maar wilde gewoon leuke liedjes maken met wat reggae-invloeden. Bij mijn weten presenteerden ze zich niet als echte reggae-groep. Toch ga ik die eventuele reggae-invloeden onderzoeken. Allereerst in de (instrumentale) muziek.

MUZIEK

Reggae op dezelfde instrumenten klinkt buiten Jamaica toch vaak anders, minder “puur”. Dat geldt ook voor Doe Maar. Soms komt hun sound wat dichter bij de Jamaicaanse sound, maar zelden helemaal. Muziektechnisch zijn de meeste Doe Maar songs hoe dan ook als reggae of ska te karakteriseren, soms deels (gemengd met andere genres). Puur muziektechnisch, maar ook wel de creativiteit erom heen.

De “schoolboekjes” van reggae spelen onderwijzen aldus: drum heeft nadruk op de 3e tel van een vierkwartsmaat, veelal aangegeven door de snare drum. De bas speelt daarop semi-melodische en afgesloten (syncopische) patronen, en de (ritme)gitaar heeft de bekende “strum” (chick! chick!) op de tweede en vierde tel van de maat. Zo heb je al snel een basale reggae-achtige groove, zeker als strak genoeg gespeeld. Goede, creatieve musici tillen dit nog meer omhoog tot een nog boeiender geheel. De Jamaicanen Sly Dunbar (drums) & Robbie Shakespeare (bas) kunnen dat.

Daarbij vergeleken zijn de Doe Maar leden mindere goden (in de reggae-wereld), maar goede, getrainde musici met een leuke creativiteit waren het nog wel. Dat was hoorbaar. Ik vind de drums van Carel Copier (op het album Skunk) en van René van Collem (op Doris Day & Andere Stukken e.a.) ook zeker niet slecht: zeker niet voor Nederlanders. Strak en redelijk creatief. Hetzelfde geldt vaak – niet altijd - voor Vrienten’s baslijnen. De basgitaar mist wel dat doffe en lage van echte Jamaicaanse reggae en klinkt wat te hoog, maar dat is dan Doe Maar’s eigen draai eraan, zou je kunnen zeggen.

Doe Maar verschilde verder ook in dat het minder droevige, mineur - of "militante" sferen op riep, zoals meer gangbaar in de protest- en ghetto-muziek die roots reggae toch was en is. Doe Maar leek meer voor een iets vrolijkere sound te gaan, maar dat verschilde ook per nummer. "Spirituele" of "mystieke" sferen die een deel van de Rastafari-geïnspireerde roots reggae kenmerken riepen Doe Maar's nummers ook zelden op. Het bleef veelal vrolijk en "springerig" (for lack of a better word..). Rastafari-teksten hadden ze dan ook niet: de teksten van Doe Maar gaven veelal een grappige, soms beschouwende kijk op alledaagse dingen als relaties, sex, maar ook wel de bredere maatschappij.

DOE MAAR ZELF

Ik heb gegoogled naar wat de Doe Maar-leden zelf over hun beïnvloeding door Jamaicaanse muziek zeggen, in interviews bijvoorbeeld. Dit leek mij wel goed om mijn vergelijkende analyse beter te funderen. Anders krijg je een “ze zullen wel..” teneur. Speculatie dus. Ik streef op zijn minst naar gefundeerde, beargumenteerde speculatie.

Afijn, het volgende interview (zie link) in 2008 voor een Belgische reggae-website met de bandleden is wat dat betreft wel informatief. Ze zeggen dat ze weinig met de Rastafari-connectie met reggae hebben (anders dan ikzelf, bijvoorbeeld), wat min of meer blijkt uit hun teksten. Daarnaast zeggen ze in de jaren 70 door verschillende “grote namen” van de Jamaicaanse ska en reggae beïnvloed te zijn, maar blijkbaar vooral door de “early reggae” (1968-tot ong. 1972) van Toots & the Maytals – die wat sneller was dan de roots reggae vanaf ong. 1973 - , en ook door Lee “Scratch” Perry. Wat betreft de bas schijnt de invloed van early reggae als van Toots & the Maytals vooral groot te zijn geweest. In een vorige band coverde Vrienten ook nummers van Toots & the Maytals.
http://www.reggae.be/magazine/interviews/column/292

Dat verklaart mijn eerdere constatering van de wat hogere, minder doffe basgitaar in Doe Maar: dat is zo vergeleken met de “doffere” en lagere basgitaar in roots reggae (ontwikkeld in de loop van de jaren 70). Inderdaad is die invloed van Toots & the Maytals muzikaal hoorbaar in Doe Maar nummers, zeker in de bas.



Toch betoog ik dat er ook andere invloeden hoorbaar zijn in Doe Maar songs. In dat interview houdt Doe Maar hun invloeden ook enigszins vaag, en noemen als invloed verder nog specifiek Lee “Scratch” Perry die ook in de roots reggae tijd erg actief was (al sinds de ska en vroege reggae tijd ook, maar goed..), en die wel Rastafari-beïnvloed was. Die invloeden ga ik verder na in - onder meer - de drum en ritmepatronen.

RITMEPATRONEN

De drum is belangrijk in reggae. De “One Drop” drumstijl – deels bedacht door Bob Marley’s drummer, de Wailer Carlton Barret, begin jaren 70 - was internationaal redelijk bekend. Het woord zegt het eigenlijk al. De eerste tel van de vierkwartsmaat is leeg gelaten door de drum waardoor er een gat lijkt te vallen en het accent (met drum) verschuift naar de derde tel. Die derde tel is vanouds benadrukt in de reggae en haar voorlopers, maar met de One Drop drumstijl werd die nadruk sterker. Zo krijg je een leuk soort swing: dus: 1: niets/hi-hat, 2: niets/hi-hat (maar ritmegitaar “chick!”),3: snare drum (met bass drum)-TOEK!, en op 4: niets/hi-hat en chick!/ritmegitaar. Chick-TOEK!-chick..hoor je als het ware.

Dit One Drop ritme verschilde soms van Toots & the Maytals-achtige reggae. maar hoor je op veel van Doe Maar’s nummers. Hun eerste hit in Nederland, ‘32 Jaar (Sinds 1 dag of 2)’, was deels reggae met min of meer een snelle variant van het One Drop patroon (bij de “ooh la la la la la”-sectie). Sommige van de grote hits, zoals 'Is Dit Alles' waren muzikaal ook One Drop-reggae. Ook een nummer als ‘Nix Voor Jou’ op Skunk is duidelijk een One Drop drumpatroon, waarin ik (muzikaal) echo’s van sommige Bob Marley & the Wailers’ nummers meen te horen. Ook nummers als ‘Okee’ en ‘Radeloos’ hadden een One Drop patroon. Op 4US heeft bijvoorbeeld 'Zoek het zelf maar uit' een duidelijk One Drop-patroon (en ik meen erop weer een Bob Marley-invloed te horen).

Men stelde dat Skunk meer ska kende dan het erop volgende album, toch was er heel wat reggae (met One Drop patroon dus) op te horen. Ook was er ska op het erna komende album Doris Day & Andere Stukken, trouwens. 'Heroine' op 4US is ook ska.



Voor het oudere Jamaicaanse genre ska, ontstaan rond 1960 - reggae bestaat sinds ongeveer 1968 - geldt hetzelfde: drumtechnisch lijkt ska op One Drop, alleen is het sneller. Daarnaast kent ska een ander, “lopend” basgitaar-patroon. Dit is hoorbaar in de op ska-gebaseerde Doe Maar songs ‘Smoorverliefd’ en ‘Liever Dan Lief’ (beide op Skunk). Wel klinkt de bas hier vaak wat anders en harder omdat het een elektrische bas betreft: in de oude Jamaicaanse ska werd nog een contrabas gebruikt. Ska komt verder regelmatig terug in Doe Maar nummers, zoals gezegd ook ná het album Skunk, soms gecombineerd met reggae in één en hetzelfde nummer.

ROCKERS

In Jamaica veranderde het drumpatroon in de reggae wat in de loop van de jaren 70. Vanaf ongeveer 1977 kwam de bass drum vaker terug, en veelal op de eerste tel (van een vierkwartsmaat) naast dus de nadruk met de snare drum op de derde tel. Dit zorgde voor een wat anders ritmisch gevoel (“rocking”), vandaar dat dit ritme de naam “Rockers” kreeg. Nog meer bass drum – op elke tel - kwam er soms ook bij, waardoor het iets “militairs” kreeg, naast die nadruk op de derde tel: dit werd “Steppers” genoemd. Bob Marley’s song ‘Exodus’ is daar een voorbeeld van.

Ook Rockers en Steppers drumpatronen komen in sommige nummers van Doe Maar terug. Iets meer in de “modernere” laatste plaat 4us, maar ook daarvoor al. ‘Nederwiet’ (op Skunk) is bijvoorbeeld meer Rockers (bass drum op eerste tel) dan One Drop, wat wel past bij de "rocking flow” van dit nummer. 'Nederwiet' heeft al met al een redelijk geslaagde rootsy “vibe” en komt hierdoor muzikaal enigszins in de buurt van echte Jamaicaanse reggae. Het latere nummer ‘Macho’ heeft ook een - zij het moderner - Rockers drumpatroon.



Steppers is te horen in bijvoorbeeld het nummer ‘Een Nacht Alleen’, Jansz’s drum bass-rijke ‘Nachtmerrrie (Op Hol)’ – alsmede in het meer recente nummer ‘Watje’ (hoewel de drum soms “Rockers” trekken heeft), van het comeback-album ‘Klaar’ (2000). ‘Als Niet Als’, ook op Klaar, heeft weer een One Drop drumpatroon, maar switcht deels naar Rockers en Steppers op hetzelfde nummer.

Zo bleef Doe Maar interessant variëren en enigszins experimenteren, tussen én binnen nummers: tussen ska en reggae (en af en toe andere stijlen), maar ook tussen standaard reggae-drumpatronen dus. De basispatronen zelf werden weinig veranderd en redelijk getrouw gevolgd.

Die variatie kende niet echt een tijdspatroon. Relatief iets oudere One Drop-patronen komen ook in de latere opnames van Doe Maar terug. Hierbij is de song ‘Nachtzuster’ (op 4US, uit 1983) een interessante casus. Door de titel vermoed ik een invloed van Gregory Isaacs’ (in reggae-kringen) bekende reggae-song ‘Night Nurse’ (uit 1982) op Doe Maar. Isaacs’ song heeft een redelijk typisch Rockers ritmepatroon, wat “zwoeler” gemaakt door onder meer toetsen, passend bij de tekst van de song.



Doe Maar’s ‘Nachtzuster’ heeft daarentegen een One Drop patroon, wat toch een andere, springerige en minder zwoele “feel” geeft dan de Isaacs’ song met dezelfde titel. Ook de bas is bij Doe Maar anders: inderdaad meer Toots & the Maytals-achtig. Qua songtekst zijn er veel overeenkomsten, en zelfs qua melodie van het refrein zijn er vage overeenkomsten tussen ‘Nachtzuster’ en ‘Night Nurse’, maar mogelijk niet zo direct dat men van plagiaat door Doe Maar kan spreken. Mogelijk hebben Vrienten en Isaacs daarover contact gehad, weet ik veel. Een invloed vermoed ik in ieder geval wel.

‘Bang’, op hetzelfde album 4US, heeft wel een Rockers-achtig drumpatroon – hoewel het door meerdere bass drums per maat richting Steppers gaat - waardoor het ironisch (muzikaal) in het couplet-gedeelte wat meer op Gregory Isaacs’s ‘Night Nurse’ lijkt dan ‘Nachtzuster’. De bas op 'Bang' is echter aanmerkelijk minder complex. (Het lijkt trouwens ook niet meer echt op Toots & the Maytals-achtige reggae.)



De invloed van Jamaicaanse muziek en muziekpatronen is dus zeer duidelijk in muzikaal opzicht, in de meeste songs van Doe Maar. Die invloed kwam mijns inziens hoorbaar lang niet alleen van Toots & the Maytals of Lee “Scratch” Perry, maar had meerdere bronnen. Er zijn daarnaast ook verschillen: Jamaicaanse roots reggae gebruikte gemiddeld genomen veel meer percussie (bongos, e.a.) dan Doe Maar, en ook wat vaker blazers, maar dat heeft wellicht ook praktische redenen. Daarnaast is dat enigszins bijzonder omdat de oorspronkelijke Jamaicaanse ska gekenmerkt werd door het vele gebruik van blazers (maar latere Britse en VS ska ook minder, dus..)

Ik vind het jammer dat Doe Maar wel teruggrijpt naar de ska, maar een andere voorloper van de reggae, de rocksteady (ontstaan rond 1966), nauwelijks speelt. De basgitaar is belangrijker in rocksteady dan in ska, bijvoorbeeld. Ikzelf heb over het algemeen meer met rocksteady dan met ska, maar dat is een persoonlijke voorkeur. De enige nummers waarin ik een rocksteady-echo meen te bespeuren zijn ‘Vergeet Me’ en – met name in de bas van - ‘Okee’, beide geschreven door Vrienten, die overigens al vóór zijn toetreden tot Doe Maar rocksteady-nummers maakte, zoals het grappige (Engelstalige) ‘If You Love Me’.



VOCALEN

Ik had het eerder over harmony vocal/harmoniezang-groepen: een belangrijk subgenre in de Jamaicaanse roots reggae: veel achtergrond- en combinatiezang met drie of soms vier zangers, veelal met maatschappijkritische en Rastafari-teksten. De harmoniezang klinkt vaak doordacht en goed. Op zijn best kan aan deze roots harmonies – met de juiste muziek erbij natuurlijk – wat mij betreft weinig tippen. Ik denk aan fantastische albums van the Wailing Souls, the Abyssinians, en the Mighty Diamonds. Nummers die naar mijn mening ook goed “blijven”, en tot de klassieke canon van de reggae behoren: ’I Need A Roof’ van the Mighty Diamonds, ‘Lift Up Your Conscience’ van Israel Vibration, ‘A Fool Will Fall’ van the Wailing Souls en andere “big tunes”.

Nu maakte Doe Maar ook in de meeste nummers gebruik van harmoniezang en achtergrondzang. Ook het principe van afwisselende lead zangers, zoals de Jamaicaanse groepen vaak doen, paste Doe Maar toe. Zoals bekend wisselden qua lead zang Jansz en Vrienten elkaar meestal af met af en toe iemand anders (Joost Belinfante op ‘Nederwiet’). De zangers waren veelal ook de schrijvers van de betreffende songs, zoals ook voor sommige Jamaicaanse bands gold/geldt. Andere Jamaicaanse bands hadden/hebben weer wel een belangrijkste zanger en soms ook zangers die niet alle nummers schrijven (een ander bandlid bijvoorbeeld), maar dat gold niet voor Doe Maar: Vrienten zong veelal nummers van hemzelf, evenals Jansz.

Daarbij was er ook achtergrondzang, harmonie zowel als “call-and-response”. Deze herhaalde soms teksten, soms voegde het teksten of kreten (ratata!, ooh ooh) toe.

Net als bij de muziek is hier een Jamaicaanse invloed merkbaar op Doe Maar. Die lijkt soms minder eenduidig, omdat dergelijke zang ook in andere genres (soul, funk, Latin) lang gangbaar was. Toch bemerk ik specifieke reggae-invloeden in Doe Maar songs, ook wat betreft deze zang.

Het is evenwel wat complexer. De groepszang bekend als call-and-response – of “roep” en (in koor) “antwoord” -, die ook Doe Maar hanteerde, heeft een lange traditie in de zwarte muziek, teruggaand tot de Afrikaanse wortels. Call-and-response is historisch een onderdeel van Afrikaanse muziek, ook vóór Afrikanen gedwongen naar de West werden versleept; de voorouders dus van de meeste Jamaicanen en anderen. Kaseko, calypso, Afro-Cubaanse muziek, Afro-Braziliaanse muziek, soul, funk, blues: allen kende ze call-and-response in een bepaalde vorm. Dit geldt ook voor lokale, (“pre-ska”) Afro-Jamaicaanse stijlen (zoals folk religious music en mento). Jamaicaanse reggae muziek is echter vanaf zeker de jaren 60 van de 20ste eeuw sterk beïnvloed door zwarte Amerikaanse muziek uit de VS: eerst R&B en blues, later soul en funk. Bij de Mighty Diamonds en wat andere groepen hoor je de invloed van (soft-) soul van the O’Jays uit Chicago of van the Delfonics uit Philadelpia.

Nu kan Doe Maar ook door die soul-traditie beïnvloed zijn, door Surinaamse kaseko of door Latijns-Amerikaanse muziek als salsa, maar ik acht een directe Jamaicaanse invloed waarschijnlijker. Niet alleen omdat de muziek al grotendeels Jamaicaans beïnvloed is, maar ik hoor het ook direct aan de vocalen in meerdere songs van Doe Maar.

De achtergrondzang op 'Nederwiet' bijvoorbeeld doet wel heel erg denken aan de achtergrondzang van nummers van de Jamaicaanse groep the Wailing Souls. Leg bijvoorbeeld de song ‘Bredda Gravalicious’ hieronder - uit 1976 - van the Wailing Souls naast ‘Nederwiet’ (eerder ingesloten in dit bericht, of houd YouTube open) uit 1981, en let op de achtergrondzang.



Qua muziek verschilt het wel wat omdat the Wailing Souls hier een One Drop patroon gebruiken (hun latere albums hadden vooral de Rockers groove), terwijl ‘Nederwiet’ Rockers is te noemen. Ook op andere nummers van Doe Maar hoor je in de vocalen overeenkomsten met bijvoorbeeld de Wailing Souls.

De invloed van “softere”, meer soul-achtige Mighty Diamonds achtergrondzang hoor je ook wel in nummers als ‘Liever dan Lief’: de achtergrondzang: “ik heb het wel gezegd ik heb het wel gezegd zeg” lijkt haast een kopie van wat de Mighty Diamonds in sommige nummers doet (ja, al vóór Doe Maar). Als voorbeeld kun je naar de gelijkende achtergrondzang op ‘I Need A Roof’ (1976) luisteren van the Mighty Diamonds, hoe dan ook een magistraal nummer..

‘Liever Dan Lief’ is muzikaal ska, en dat verschilt weer van de Mighty Diamonds die na de ska-tijd begonnen en voornamelijk reggae en soms rocksteady maakten, vanaf ongeveer 1967.

Ik weet het niet zeker, maar als ‘Bredda Gravalicious’ (1976) van de Wailing Souls en ‘I Need A Roof’ (1976) van de Mighty Diamonds mede als voorbeeld voor Doe Maar dienden, dan kennen ze in ieder geval hun reggae-klassieken. Wel kunnen de songs dan alleen maar minder zijn dan die originele norm. Dat zijn de Doe Maar nummers ook – vergeleken met deze klassieke roots reggae - , maar ze zijn nog wel leuk en zeker niet slecht.

Dan is er tekstueel strikt genomen betekenisloze achtergrondzang, zoals “Ratata!” op ‘Doris Day’. Dat is er ook wel in de soul, trouwens, maar ook in reggae. Op ‘Doris Day’ hoor je dat, op ’32 Jaar’, maar er zijn meer voorbeelden in Doe Maar songs (bijv.“Oediediewoep-woep” op ‘De Laatste X’) Ik vermoed hier een Bob Marley & the Wailers-invloed en ook van een groep als the Meditations (die op hun beurt weer beïnvloed zijn door de Wailers). Luister maar eens naar ‘Babylon Trap Them’ (uit 1975) van the Meditations.

Dan hoor ik ook de invloed van de groep Israel Vibration, inclusief iets van “vibratie” in de achtergrondzang, bijvoorbeeld op het nummer ‘Tijd Genoeg’. Onderstaande nummer 'Prophet Has Arise' komt uit 1978. Ook roots groepen als the Abyssinians lijken van invloed op Doe Maar.



Rastafari-geïnspireerde en "diepe roots" groepen als de Wailing Souls, Israel Vibration, the Mighty Diamonds, en de Abyssinians neigen gemiddeld wel in hun zang meer naar mineur en treurige, spirituele, – of serieuze/militante - sferen dan het gemiddeld wat vrolijkere en "springerige" geluid van Doe Maar.



Door het hele oeuvre heen van Doe Maar bemerk je evenwel zeker in technische zin die Jamaicaanse “roots harmony”-invloed. Zoveel dat specifieke voorbeelden bijna niet meer te geven zijn. Bovendien kan iedereen ook zelf zoeken naar nummers om dit te beluisteren (het verbaast mij bijvoorbeeld elke keer hoeveel er toch op YouTube is te vinden). Ik moet al met al zeggen dat Doe Maar die achtergrondzang meestal goed inzette, hoewel niet consistent goed. In sommige nummers doet het wat geforceerd aan, of leidt het zelfs af, maar vaker voegt die achtergrondzang wel degelijk wat leuks toe aan de Doe Maar-nummers.

Een verwijt is dat eventuele nabootsen overigens niet. Reggae is namelijk ook deels beïnvloed door zwarte Amerikaanse muziek. Vanaf het ontstaan deels, maar dat was niet zozeer nabootsen als wel laten beïnvloeden, om het vervolgens een eigen draai te geven met lokale invloeden en muziek. In enige mate heeft ook Doe Maar dat gedaan, maar ze hebben verre van een nieuw genre bedacht, dat ook weer niet. Doe Maar baseerde zich grotendeels op bestaande, Jamaicaanse muziekgrenres.

LEAD ZANG

In de lead zang is een Jamaicaanse invloed minder aanwijsbaar. Vrienten en Jansz zingen/zongen doorgaans met hun natuurlijke stemmen. Deze zijn niet slecht, maar ook niet bijzonder getraind. Ze zingen ook in het standaard-Nederlands, dan wel met een Tilburgs/Brabants accent. De “soul” die veel zwarte zangers in hun zang leggen bereiken de meeste blanke/Europese zangers niet, ook niet met wat Aziatisch bloed, zoals Jansz. Vaak zelfs niet als ze al heel lang met zwarte muziek bezig zijn. Zo zit het nu eenmaal, heel algemeen gesteld natuurlijk. Een kwestie van cultuur en levenservaring, maatschappelijke positie wellicht, en mogelijk zelfs genen.

Natuurlijk en adequaat zingen - en menen wat je zingt - lijkt mij dan het minst geforceerd over komen. Dat lukt Doe Maar redelijk. Er kan dan zelfs, bij emotionele thema’s, toch iets van oprechte “soul” in de lead zang komen, zoals in Vrienten’s ‘Radeloos’ of ‘De Laatste X’, of Jansz’ interessante song over zijn Indo-achtergrond ‘Rumah Saya’. Jansz en Vrienten lijken als goede musici hun zangstemmen verder goed te kennen en over het algemeen ook goed te gebruiken.

TER AFSLUITING

De Jamaicaanse reggae en ska-invloed is groot op Doe Maar. Zo groot dat hun hele “sound” er in belangrijke mate door beïnvloed is: muzikaal maar ook deels vocaal. Het zijn deze reggae-aspecten die Doe Maar hielpen populair te worden. Ze wisten zelfs reggae enigszins bij de mainstream in Nederland te krijgen, zij het in een wat aangepaste, verwaterde "luchtige" vorm, doch niet zo aangepast als had gekund. Hun populariteit leek soms vergelijkbaar met die van de Beatles destijds, zij het beperkt tot voornamelijk Nederland. Ook de Beatles waren meer door zwarte muziek beïnvloed dan bij velen bekend is, dus dat is een overeenkomst, al leek Doe Maar daar tenminste wat opener in te zijn.

Doe Maar maakte wel zelf de catchy, goede songs - vocaal en instrumentaal -, en dat is hun eigen prestatie. Maar waren die songs op zichzelf genoeg? Ik betwijfel het. Frank Boeijen had bijvoorbeeld ook goede songs. Doe Maar klonk zoals het was doordat ze sterk beïnvloed waren door Jamaicaanse muzikale artiesten. In die zin was die invloed meer dan een bijzaak en uiteindelijk medebepalend. Dat geeft verder niet, maar ik denk toch even “credit where credit is due”...