To those who love reggae music, its story is known by heart,
as the stories of Moses, Noah and the Creation would have been
to its Jamaican originators. It is the story of how the little
island of Jamaica created an indigenous ska music out of the American
rhythm & blues of the 50s, a music which then slowed down
and became rocksteady, in turn becoming reggae itself, from which
sprang the truly radical DJ and dub phenomena, and so on, changing
the course of musical history world wide.
However, outside the Jamaican diaspora and reggae's small but
devoted body of white fans, this is a story which like the music
itself is largely unheard, despite the international success of
Bob Marley. It is a measure of Lloyd Bradley's achievement that
he writes with such ease for both audiences. In his hands the
growth of Jamaican music becomes a gripping adventure story even
though its essentially collaborative nature means that reggae
has a cast of many thousands and a potentially treacherous morass
of detail awaits its musical historian. But Bradley has the gift
of conveying a complex situation deftly and swiftly, for instance
neatly summing up both the alienation of the ghetto poor from
Jamaican independence euphoria in 1962 and the increasing capacity
of the music to express it with the comment "Of course, the
music industry came to the party, with tunes such as "Independent
Jamaica" or "Forward March" but their collective
B-side was an equal number with titles such as "Babylon Gone",
"Time Longer Than Rope'". His tone is refreshingly humorous
and irreverent, describing a veteran UK dreadlocks as beaming
out "from under a peaked tam not quite big enough for its
own postcode."
While organising his material deftly and economically, Lloyd Bradley
never makes the mistake of oversimplifying or retrospectively
imposing a musical plan that never existed. His book revels in
the rich coincidence and creative use of necessity which has always
been the glory of reggae music. He reveals for example that at
a dockside line-up in 1959 the great Prince Buster was refused
a visa to cut cane in the United States because his hands were
too soft. Such visits, in the days before an indigenous Jamaican
music, were the prime means for Jamaican sound system operators
to buy the rare and obscure US rhythm and blues records they played
at their dances. So Prince Buster stayed on the island, recorded
local talent at a Kingston studio instead, making the most of
necessity as reggae music always has done, and so became instrumental
in its birth. Such anecdotes, like the tale of the 1950's Jamaican
operator of a massive sound system who tried to convince a baffled
Miami marine equipment salesman that he needed 'the type of loudspeaker
that ocean-going liners would use to herald their approach in
foggy conditions" in order to play records, are a constant
source of delight throughout the book.
Of particular interest to British readers is the UK slant which
Lloyd Bradley, born in London in 1955 to recent Jamaican immigrants,
gives to his story, Bass Culture itself being one of London
based dub poet's Linton Kwesi Johnson's best known albums. Lloyd
Bradley breaks off his Jamaican narrative at regular intervals
to devote a chapter to an independently developing British scene
which he knew at first hand.
The subtitle of his book, When Reggae Was King, implies
that for Lloyd Bradley the golden years of reggae are over, and
indeed the broad sweep of his narrative ends in 1985 with the
advent of digital rhythms through the humble Casio Rhythm Box.
To the subsequent ragga phase of reggae music, which has after
all been current now for fifteen years, he devotes only two reluctant
chapters. Lloyd Bradley is a sharp critic of dancehall, objecting
to what he considers its lyrical preoccupation with guns, consumerism
and misogyny, its lack of musicianship, and, in his view, excessive
domination by such American phenomena as gangsta rap. Yet with
characteristic optimism he draws attention to such cultural forces
as Morgan Heritage and Luciano, declaring that "knowing how
swiftly Jamaican music can change direction, total reinvention
could come sooner rather than later."
Lloyd Bradley's ability to tell a complex story graphically and
swiftly is shared too by that great Jamaican film The Harder
They Come, the story of Rhygin, country boy come to town to
make it as a reggae star but becoming instead a ghetto gunman
who meets his end in a hail of bullets. If The Harder They
Come tells in a direct and simple form the quintessential
post war Third World story of the flight from the countryside
to the urban shanties and slums, then Lloyd Bradley tells that
other universal Third World story, the former colony which realises
itself as an independent nation and seizes for itself a sense
of its own identity. In the case of Jamaica, especially for its
poor and dispossessed majority, this self-realisation was achieved
through reggae music. Despite much that is depressing in the recent
history of Jamaica, Lloyd Bradley's story is essentially one of
hope and the triumph of creativity and originality. This is a
fine book and in the words of Prince Buster "Jamaican music
at last has the book it deserves."