Entertainment: "Inspirator" Re-Ignites

Roots Dub Poetry Reggae Revival for Schools across Jamaica..

Spearheaded by Charlie Bobus, the Dub poets are seeking your listening ears to travel across Jamaica to spread the positive message to the youths through Dub Poetry in Schools. To make this possible Charlie Bobus is staging a Dub poetry school tour fundraiser at Red Bones Blues Cafe titled Roots Dub Poetry Reggae Revival on April 7, 2017 at 9pm.

Charlie Bobus is a motivational dub poet that was based in Toronto Canada. He was facilitating a Youth Leadership program for the Hariett Tubman Community organization and Art Starts for youths in high risk communities and doing workshops and performances at festivals across Canada.

"Due to the frustration and distress the schoolers across Jamaica are facing they crave motivation through positive messages of hope and inspiration," Bobus points out. "One aim of the school tour is identifying youth leaders to create their visions and influence their peers positively. The tour will identify talented poetic youths for Inspirator Upcoming Youth islandwide Dub Poetry Slam."


Born and raised in the often volatile community of Grants Pen in Kingston where he lived through and struggled with many of the issues facing youths across Jamaica today. He started Inspirator International in 2005 with a mission of "Empowering minds and uplifting youths".

He is particularly concerned about the gang banging in schools. Especially also about the state of mind many school children are left in. Worst now after the wave of bombardment of tragic incidents and serious safety concerns. Poetry can release mental stress plus anxiety
and allow positive thoughts to permeate their minds.

Already confirmed for the school tour are Dub poets Charlie Bobus, Ras Takura, Cherry Natural, Mojiba Ase, Sage and Akuna Matata.

Bobus says school officials are excited about it and anxious to see this tour in their schools. "The response has been overwhelming so please contact if you want your school included".


The Fundraiser will take place at Red Bones Blues Cafe on April 7 and International recording artist Chelsea Stewart and Saxophonist Isax Ins Jah from Canada are fully on board in helping the youths here in Jamaica and are concerned about their state of mind.

The show will also feature Veteran Reggae artists Tinga Stewart who has a new hit single with Fantom Mojah promoting and Reggie Steppa know for his monster hits Little Miss and Modeling and Anju Kat out of the Sly & Robbie Gang. The Dub poets will be representing through Ras Takura organizer of Disword wordz & Agro Fest, Sage, Mojiba Ase and two other Grantspen Dub Poets Akuna Matata and Ras Shaddi. Backed by the Legend Bands. Admission is only $1000.

"The Dub Poet Charlie Bobus set up fundraiser for school tour, Good spirit haffi rise, Care share and Help" said Asher Selecta one of the sponsors from Raspect Wear out of Switzerland. The event is also powered by Island Stage, Rebel Vibes, Cru Clothing, Noble Works, ATAP Production and Carib Newsroom.

Contact: Inspirator International Events Graphics & Publishing
Nicardo "Charlie Bobus" Murray
18764516572 {watsapp}
Email: charliebobus@gmail.com
Facebook.com/charliebobus

Biz: JBDC Workshop Unlocks "a Hill of Beans"

Jamaica Business Development Corporation (JBDC) executives were witnesses to the launch of the National Grow Castor Bean Project on Wednesday March 22, 2017 at the Terra Nova Hotel in Kingston. The Project is being managed by the Urban and Rural Ministry of the Jamaica Baptist Union Mission Agency, which used the occasion to announce the start of the project being funded by an overseas donor to the tune of US198,000 or approximately J$25 million, bringing the total grants approved under the JBDC’s Tapping into Donor Funds Proposal Writing Workshop® to $127 million.

“This project has been over three years in the making and JBDC played a significant role in helping us to get to this point. I was a participant of the inaugural Proposal Writing Workshop in 2013. The Mandeville representative, Mrs. Terry-Ann Clahar-Weir has also worked closely with members of our church in business planning,” explained Dr. Judith A. Johnston, Community Development Specialist & Social Entrepreneur.

Dr. Johnston says the funding will enable the organization to put the first 400 acres (of the 1000 acre target) of castor bean into production. So far, 80 farmers have signed on to participate in the project which is being implemented in ten (10) parishes. Dr. Johnston estimates that there will be approximately 200 participants when the remaining acres are used.

“Often times, we see other produce failing because there’s no market. They invest and it comes to nothing. What we want to do is engage our farmers in things that have a value-added component, so whether it’s the castor beans, breadfruit or cassava there are value-added products to be derived such as oil and flour,” she said.

Minister without Portfolio in the Ministry of Economic Growth and Job Creation, Daryl Vaz ( 2nd left), examines a bag of castor beans being shown to him by Project Director of the Jamaica Baptist Union’s (JBU) Grow Castor Bean Project, Dr Judith Johnston (2nd right). Occasion was the official launch of the initiative at the Terra Nova All-Suite Hotel in St Andrew on Wednesday. Others looking on (from left): are Chief of Operations at the Jamaica National Bank, Janice Robinson Longmore; and JBU General Secretary, Karl Johnson. (Photo: JIS)

Dr. Johnston says with the help of the Ministry of Investment, Commerce, Agriculture & Fisheries the organization has also been approved for technical assistance by the Mexican Agency for International Development Co-operation (AMEXCID), details of which they await.

“This is a major achievement for the Workshop, as it indicates that our primary objective is being met. Access to funding is a major challenge for entrepreneurs and social enterprises. As a result, the JBDC has been developing and implementing programmes that will build our clients’ capacity to succeed. Proposal writing can be an intimidating task for the applicant and that proposal once submitted will undergo intense scrutiny by the potential donor. So we developed a product to address that need,” explained Lisa Taylor-Stone, Project Management & Research Development Manager – JBDC.

To date, close to 300 participants representing SMEs, public sector entities and social groups have been trained.

The methodology that guides the implementation of the Workshop comprises: 20 hours of learning delivered over three days and eight (8) hours of post-workshop coaching and mentoring delivered over two weeks.

Last year, the Workshop was officially trademarked by the Jamaica Intellectual Property Organization (JIPO) and accredited by UK-based awarding body, Institute of Leadership and Management (ILM). ILM is the leading provider of leadership and management qualifications in the UK and part of the wider City and Guilds Group: a global leader in skills development.

Jazz: Monty Alexander makes a "Yard Movement" for Christmas

With a near inexhaustible list of major-league A-list credits - from the late Natalie Cole to the ageless Tony Bennett, an annual Jazz festival named after him in Maryland since 2010, and a listing in the Top 5 of Hal Leonard's 50 Greatest Jazz Pianists of all Time(2005), Monty Alexander might be forgiven for not being seen more often in his homeland.

But a decade-long wait comes to an end next month as Alexander, with is critically-acclaimed fusion project, The Harlem-Kingston Express, rolls into Kingston - on Dec 11 - in  benefit concert titled "Home For Christmas" in aid of the Global Giving Programme of the university of the West Indies. The show unfolds at the Jamaica Pegasus beginning at 7:00pm. The performance is under the Patronage of former Jamaican Prime Minister P J Patterson, who as former manager of the legendary Skatalites is certainly familiar with Alexander's oeuvre and development, and UWI Vice-Chancellor, Sir Hilary Beckles.

The affable and often effervescent pianist will continue his genre-bending explorations of the sounds of  his beloved homeland (mento, ska and reggae) and the swing stylings that established him in the US and caught the pleased ear of "Chairman of the Board" the late Frank Sinatra, who in turn was instrumental in  getting Alexander residency in America.

Of course, no one venue or event could contain the pianist's vast and still-growing discography, but patrons can expect him to expertly weave through his myriad associations - including a variety of combos with iconic Jamaican guitarist Ernie Ranglin and longtime trio partners Hassan Shakur (bass) and Herlin Riley (drums) as well as reggae stalwarts Glenn Browne and Courtney Panton.

Tickets are J$10,000, and outlets will be announced shortly.

Music: "Heaven, via Shanghai", exploring the soundsystem culture rocking China's biggest city

-Thump magazine

It was pretty obvious to anyone arriving at the club who Biggaton was. Standing outside in the smoking area was a Rastafarian guy, dreadlocks tied into a massive red green and yellow hat, dressed entirely in white. Later that evening, he jumped down from the DJ booth, strode into the middle of the dancefloor and grabbed a small Chinese girl from the audience. "Baby, tell me where you're from," he said, in his thick Jamaican accent. "Hangzhou," she responded.

"I don't know Hangzhou, but me, I'm from Jamaica, and there, the galdem see me and they say, 'oh Biggaton! Why you all in white, are you an angel?' and I say 'no baby, I'm no angel, but I can take you to heaven!'"

Biggaton—a dancehall star from Mandeville, Jamaica—put on a great show, but in reality I'd come that night to see Skinny Brown, the DJ who'd brought him over from the Caribbean. For the last five years Skinny has been running a night called Popasuda. It's the kind of night where you'll hear songs made in a basement in India played back to back with tracks from Ethiopia, with afrobeats from Nigeria, Azonto from Ghana, and Brazillian baille funk all thrown into the mix. 

Oh, and it takes place in a sweaty warehouse in Shanghai.

Dada, Popasuda's home, is tucked away between nondescript buildings at the intersection of Xing Fu Lu—which translates from Mandarin as the "road of happiness." Situated down an alley, Dada is a graffiti-covered space, with a small chain link fence hanging down from one wall upon which a revolving Popasuda logo is projected. It sways every time someone dances into it.

"What I love about Popasuda," said Skinny Brown when we sat down to talk a few days before his show with Biggaton, "is that I have the Cameroonians in one corner, the Senegalese and the Jamaicans in another, the South Africans, the Brazilians, the Germans and the British all scattered around. Then when you play a track and they know it they come running up to the decks."

Shanghai, despite being fundamentally international, is a city in which stratification can take place incredibly quickly. On any given night you might stumble into a club that feels wholly the preserve of French expats, or others playing Mando-pop where the only foreign faces are the Russian "models" paid 300 RMB to dance on the tables with high rollers. Popasuda, on the other hand, brings as mixed a crowd as you're likely to see anywhere in the world. I've seen the head of one of Shanghai's trendiest art spaces—Shanghainese through and through—his button-down shirt wrapped around his waist, his vest soaked through with sweat clinging to his paunch, swaying, while behind him a group of Indian exchange students lose their shit over a piece of Urdu ephemera.

Skinny Brown is the embodiment of this audience. Raised in Toronto, he speaks six languages—Japanese, Hindi, Portuguese, Mandarin, English and Urdu. He drifted through college and ended up DJing in Tokyo and living in Yokohama. Having left Japan after his visa expired, Skinny found himself soaking up the sound of baille funk in Rio. From Brazil it was on to Pakistan where he spent time with a cousin in Karachi. His excursion to Shanghai came about by accident. "I had one of those 72 hour visas, for transit," he told me "but I guess that was ten years ago..."

A decade on and he's trying something different. "I want to build a soundsystem here, with dubplates, and clashes. The real thing." When I asked him if he felt that Shanghai was a reggae city, he shook his head. "No, not really, but it's coming up." His current method is beginning with a dubplate intro to his set, and then throwing dancehall in later. "It's easy to cross over into dancehall, future dancehall and trappy stuff at 160bpm. A lot of it is driven by that, that BPM and the need to find something that is slightly different."

Business: Through trademark, Tecg Gants keep Jamaica ahead of the product curve

Apple’s product launches are notoriously secretive, but the Cupertino, California tech giant is sure to do one thing ahead of a big reveal: file trademark paperwork in Jamaica.

It did this for Siri, the Apple Watch, macOS, and dozens of its major products months before the equivalent paperwork was lodged in the United States. Likewise, Google, Amazon, and Microsoft routinely file trademarks for their most important products in locales far flung from Silicon Valley and Seattle. These include Jamaica, Tonga, Iceland, South Africa, and Trinidad and Tobago—places where trademark authorities don’t maintain easily searchable databases.

The tech giants are exploiting a US trademark-law provision that lets them effectively claim a trademark in secret. Under this provision, once a mark is lodged with an intellectual property office outside the US, the firm has six months to file it with the US Patent and Trademark Office (USPTO). When the firm does file in the US, it can point to its original application made abroad to show that it has a priority claim on the mark.

In the meantime, though, the provision prevents competitors from guessing at a firm’s product plans from public filings. “Competitors could search, ‘What has Apple filed for? What are they thinking about?'” says Nehal Madhani of legal-software provider Alt Legal, who has researched the issue. Think of it as arbitraging global intellectual-property laws.

The filings made overseas aren’t, of course, actually secret—they’re just not easy to access if you can’t go in person. For instance, the Jamaica Intellectual Property Office allows visitors to search filings in person at its office in Kingston. People can also ask the office to search filings for them, but a Jamaican address is required to receive the results, and the process takes three weeks. A lawyer in Jamaica, however, can be appointed to perform the search, the office told Quartz. It said it has no current plans to put its filings database online. Alt Legal compiled a list of 65 other countries with offline trademark databases like Jamaica’s.

Each tech company seems to prefer a particular country for its trademark applications. We compiled registration data going back to 2010 on Amazon, Apple, Google, and Microsoft, and charted the countries where they first filed trademarks:

Music: No Longer "speaking Germain", Shuga Steps Out

-The Jamaica Observer
 
Singer Shuga has cut ties with longtime manager Donovan Germain and Penthouse Records.

“He was a great manager, he is my father and my foundation, but it is time to move out and move forward,” Shuga said, adding that she was “going through with the legalities now” to formalise the split.
The St James-born artiste joined the Penthouse camp shortly after winning the Digicel Rising Stars competition in 2009.
Penthouse is a major force in contemporary dancehall. The label is responsible for the mainstream success of artistes such as Wayne Wonder and Buju Banton.


“I wish her all the best in her career, it was great working with her over these years. I hope she can continue to mature and blossom as an artiste,” said Germain.
Shuga released her new song, Caribbean People, last week. It is produced by Warieka Productions.

Culture: "Do As I....." Etana's reveal and what it says about the artist's responsibility

"My music is not my beliefs"

Do As I say, not as I do.

Singer Etana has placed herself in a really uncomfortable position when, on being quizzed by "Entertainment Report" host Anthony Miller, she revealed  that not only does she admire and support polarizing US Presidential candidate Donald Trump, but placed such support above an beyod the populistic lyrics for which she has become known

Her political leanings, whether for US or Jamaican politicians is almost irrelevant. Hilary Clinton is a less-than-ideal 2nd-time contender for the White House, with significant unpacked baggage, but she is not the under-informed fascist that Donald trump clearly is. A Trump win has potentially massive downside for US-Caribbean relations, and for Jamaica in particular.

So Etana's declaration of support for Donald trump, while problematic and even offensive to some, does not, in my view, have the power in itself to seriously diminish her standing as an artist.

The remark uttered by her at the top of this essay is, however, a very different matter.

There are some positions I wish for people to consider

An artist, a creative individual (or group) has a different level of engagement with the society than others. yes, the arts have a business and a professional side to them, moreso in today's world. Yet, with all of that said, the artist and the community are partners in a trust.

Trust. The audience - whether visually or otherwise - have expectations that they want fulfilled, and so too does the artist. The artist may create the work on his/her own, but draws for the community in terms of themes and ideas. Similarly, the community gives its support to the artist by choice, but depends, often unwittingly, on the creator to sow them something of themselves , whether it be uplifting, uncomfortable, but undeniable.

in short, the truth plays a significant role in the dynamic between artist and public.even parodists, Like Weird Al Yankovic and our own Lovindeer, are using the medium to express certain views on topics or figures that are apparently " hot" for the masses - be it losing weight ("Eat It") or the installation of nude statues in a public park ("Happ-iness in de Park"). satire, fable and allegory are all acceptable and important elements in getting certain truths across.

What cannot be acceptable is for the artist to dismiss the positions articulated in her work - the way that Etana has done - because the values espouse are irreconcilable with her political or other choices (religious, etc). it would be one thing for Etana to say that she truly believes trump will effect social justice, and opportunities for upward mobility for all in the US, as unlikely as those developments may seem to the rest of us.

But to regard the sentiments expressed in such songs as "Roots" "Not Afraid" and "Better Tomorrow" as disconnected from her personal beliefs (whether she penned the lyrics or not) simply because her professed support of Donald Trump is incongruous with the values of those songs does a huge disservice to her audience, the worldwide fan base she has built over the course of four albums and many live appearances. Drawn to the poignancy and the general uplift behind such words as "I am not Afraid/ If dem a come/ mek dem come/ Coz I'm protected/ by the Most High One".

Does she no longer hold the above to be true? Did she ever believe it in the first place? is her music career a purely mercenary exercise, driven bey the overarching need to secure her own welfare? Will she sing nay lyric to gain the trust of the public, only to disavow it under the heat and glare of media scrutiny (good job, by the way, Anthony Miller)?

These are questions that she and other creatives need to consider. Does my work -whether solo or collaborative - speak for me? is there room for divergence between what I offer to the public and my inner core?

My answer to this last one is "No" and, from the immediate social media backlash - powerful enough to force the singer into an unconvincing explanation of her position (the cliched "My words were twisted"), its clearly many share that view. The public has expectations of those offering them creations, and the main one, good or bad, is credibility.

Etana, I really think you need a total reset here.....for a better tomorrow.

Culture: "Do As I....." Etana's reveal and what it says about the artist's responsibility

"My music is not my beliefs"

her political leanings, whether for US or Jamaican politicians is almost irrelevant. Hilary Clinton is a less-than-ideal 2nd-time contender for the White House, with significant unpacked baggage, but she is not the under-informed fascist that Donald trump clearly is. A Trump win has potentially massive downside for US-Caribbean relations, and for Jamaica in particular.

So Etana's declaration of support for Donald trump, while problematic and even offensive to some, does not, in my view, have the power in itself to seriously diminish her standing as an artist.

The remark uttered by her at the top of this essay is, however, a very different matter.

There are some positions I wish for people to consider

An artist, a creative individual (or group) has a different level of engagement with the society than others. yes, the arts have a business and a professional side to them, moreso in today's world. Yet, with all of that said, the artist and the community are partners in a trust.

Trust. The audience - whether visually or otherwise - have expectations that they want fulfilled, and so too does the artist. The artist may create the work on his/her own, but draws for the community in terms of themes and ideas. Similarly, the community gives its support to the artist by choice, but depends, often unwittingly, on the creator to sow them something of themselves , whether it be uplifting, uncomfortable, but undeniable.

in short, the truth plays a significant role in the dynamic between artist and public.even parodists, Like Weird Al Yankovic and our own Lovindeer, are using the medium to express certain views on topics or figures that are apparently " hot" for the masses - be it losing weight ("Eat It") or the installation of nude statues in a public park ("Happ-iness in de Park"). satire, fable and allegory are all acceptable and important elements in getting certain truths across.

What cannot be acceptable is for the artist to dismiss the positions articulated in her work - the way that Etana has done - because the values espouse are irreconcilable with her political or other choices (religious, etc). it would be one thing for Etana to say that she truly believes trump will effect social justice, and opportunities for upward mobility for all in the US, as unlikely as those developments may seem to the rest of us.

But to regard the sentiments expressed in such songs as "Roots" "Not Afraid" and "Better Tomorrow" as disconnected from her personal beliefs (whether she penned the lyrics or not) simply because her professed support of Donald Trump is incongruous with the values of those songs does a huge disservice to her audience, the worldwide fan base she has built over the course of four albums and many live appearances. Drawn to the poignancy and the general uplift behind such words as "I am not Afraid/ If dem a come/ mek dem come/ Coz I'm protected/ by the Most High One".

Does she no longer hold the above to be true? Did she ever believe it in the first place? is her music career a purely mercenary exercise, driven bey the overarching need to secure her own welfare? Will she sing nay lyric to gain the trust of the public, only to disavow it under the heat and glare of media scrutiny (good job, by the way, Anthony Miller)?

These are questions that she and other creatives need to consider. Does my work -whether solo or collaborative - speak for me? is there room for divergence between what I offer to the public and my inner core?

My answer to this last one is "No" and, from the immediate social media backlash - powerful enough to force the singer into an unconvincing explanation of her position (the cliched "My words were twisted"), its clearly many share that view. The public has expectations of those offering them creations, and the main one, good or bad, is credibility.

Etana, I really think you need a total reset here.....for a better tomorrow.

Sport: Chris Gayle's first love is still cricket....for now

It often seems that Chris Gayle is tone between actually playing cricket and being a celebrity who plays cricket.

His exploits on the cricket pitch are fast entering the realm of legend, much like that other famous Jamaican athlete, - you know, the guy who runs? But, along the way, just like his track star compatriot, Gayle has had his share of publicity flaps and flops. Arguably, none will live longer in infamy (or maybe now in hashtag-land) than "Don't blush baby" the casual cap to a seemingly awkward attempt to coax Australian TV journalist Mel McLaughlin to join him post-game for dinner and a few drinks, during an on-air interview.

The incident made international headlines beyond the cricketing world and cost Gayle a fairly hefty $10,000 in fines from his local Aussie t20 club, the Renegades.

he has since shrugged off the whole brouhaha (the latest in a line which included him reportedly dropping his towel in a dressing room before another female reporter and boasting about his "big bat").

The West Indies batting star is apparently comfortable to move into another sphere of public life: memoirist. His life tome had its Jamaican launch at the expected place - his Triple Century Sports bar and Grill in the heart of the New Kingston business district.

The title?: "Six Machine" (clearly with apologies to the late James Brown, and the declaratory sub-title, "I Don't Like Cricket...I Love It".

Clearly not as much as having a party - and the man of the hour was suitably outstanding in white wihte shirt with black trim, tomato-red trousers and black shoeswith matching red trim. try ignoring him.

of course media reps ran through the expected raft of interviews and some got their books signed (distributor Novelty Trading, which runs the venerable Bookland store a few doors up the road, was on hand to handle the supply and sales, and patrons hungry for the sports highlights of the day could feat their eyes on the lounges multiple screen - that is, after the big man got through with his presentation.

Gayle, who spenthte summer playing T20 in the UK, among other things, is apparently in recuperation mode at present, but expects to beck on the pitch to put his big bat (and useful spin) into play, what with a number of international cricket engagements on his ever-expanding plate.

Culture: In words and pictures, dancehall and church are fast neigbours in Kingston

I grew up in the suburbs of Toronto had lots of friends with Jamaican heritage. We all listened to hip hop, reggae, house music, etc. and Jamaican culture was always pretty dominant, especially in Toronto’s hip hop scene. Fast forward a bunch of years and I had moved from hip hop journalism into conflict journalism.

I had just returned from Afghanistan, with no idea what to do with myself. I figured I would go to Jamaica for a couple weeks, write a little story. But then the Arab Spring took off and I ended up going to work in Libya, instead. There I started thinking a lot about beauty, love and God, and about articulating something without words.

I finally made it to Jamaica, which can be a very religious place, and continued developing that train of thought. I’m wired maybe to see the worst of religious culture. What I often see is hypocrisy, hyper judgemental – the typical stuff that you see in churches and get turned off by. But I felt like, what if I could step back and see the beauty too. What if that existed? And what if I could see the beauty and links between the two – church and dancehall? What if I looked at these two worlds without judgement? I imagine that’s how God looks at the world, more with love than judgement.

I spent a lot of time in churches, a lot of time at dancehall parties. I moved and shot a lot. I started with digital and then just dropped anything digital because I was overwhelmed. Switching to film – I shoot on an Fuji Instax Mini Neo 90 and a Yashica T4 – changed how I worked. I shot less and aimed to be present more. To look for moments. To anticipate. To trust process. Basically just hang out and hope people forget the skinny white guy with the camera. Respect the welcome.

Dancehall always seems to be enjoying another moment. Whether Chaka Demus and Pliers ‘Murder She Wrote’ or mainstream/crossover artists like Sean Paul, Vybz Kartel or Drake flirting with the genre, dancehall makes a mark. Dancehall has continued to reinvent itself since it became popular in the ‘80s. Dancehall, like Jamaica itself, always hits above its weight class, culturally.

The more time you spend in dancehall parties, you see how comfortable people are with the idea of God. Popcaan has his ‘Unruly Prayer’, for example. I set out to photograph the links between the two worlds, although in Kingston there’s not so much the gap between them that you would expect elsewhere: dancehall and church are one world.

The photographs run together, with no words. It’s colours, movements and photographs that link different parts of this one place. Most is shot in Mountainview and the surrounding neighbourhoods of Kingston. Our short film, Everblessed, does the same but with Kingston-based director Nile Saulter’s distinctive visual language, revealing more of these worlds with movement.Like the photography, Everblessed came about organically. I’ve known Duane Crichton of Nomad Republic (who exec produced the film) for decades. Shooting became a continued practice of non-judgement, of learning more about others and about myself. And Nile gets that, creating a liminal space where each part of story comes together to give space.

One night we left a party to buy ice at like 3am or something. And we were driving up Mountainview Road. It’s empty, just the ugly light of the street lights, and we come around a corner and a car is parked off the curb, music blasting, doors open, and a dude is daggering this girl.

So we got out and they’d all just come from a water party. And this one girl, she was phenomenally athletic, I’d seen her at parties in the neighbourhood, she was stretching and doing sexy poses and she had the body for it. She was a pro. I mean, she would dance like that for herself, for Jamaicans and for me.

And the other girl, she was well, this more homely girl. And she posed up by herself, sticking her ass out by this stop sign. It wasn’t sexy, it was lonely. Like, trying for attention and getting it but probably for the wrong reason. And I can relate to that stuff. I mean, even if I imagined it. I try to find that emotion.

Most Jamaicans are Bible literate. And very conservative in their moral world view. But like everybody else, ideas and actions can differ. That I can relate to, as well. And throw that into a place like Kingston where physical space is at a premium. You don’t get to live separate there. You’re intensely aware of all facets of who you are and so is everyone around you. You can front but you will be known.

The whole process of documenting the crossover between church and dancehall in Jamaica reminded me of the value of community. Of knowing and being known. What makes you go out at night? Friends. To church? Same. Not to oversimplify, but it took me to those kinds of values and commonalities, instead of thinking about the project as strictly dancehall, or church. Community. For someone who is on the road too often, like me, that can be challenging.

Culture: [Nick] Cannon Fires for Kingston, dancehall

Dancehall music has engaged mainstream attention this year, once again, and so it is either fortuitous or prescient that a new feature film centered on the music and dance culture of modern Jamaica debuted at the Toronto International Film Festival this week. King Of The Dancehall stars first-time director Nick Cannon, Canadian singer Kreesha Turner, Collie Buddz, Busta Rhymes, Lou Gossett Jr.,, Whoopi Goldberg, and the stunning Jamaican actress Kimberly Patterson in a breakout role. Beyond the plot, which loosely engages the international drug trade and Jamaican street politics, King Of The Dancehall is above all a story about loving another person, and dance. Sure, there are cameos from contemporary musicians like Beenie Man (who narrates), Barrington Levy, and Ky-Mani Marley, but the soundtrack is secondary to the movements of young dance crews, choreographed with the help of Toronto's Jae Blaze. This film builds on the legacy of others like Dancehall Queen, that situate the social and cultural lives of young Jamaicans squarely within the dancehall.

This year's TIFF featured many offerings from black filmmakers, and Cannon called it "an honor" to be able to premiere his first original movie at the fest. "It's our job to take control of our narrative and tell our stories," he said, on the red carpet. "It feels like a new renaissance in filmmaking." The FADER spoke with Cannon and Kreesha Turner about why it was important to make this film, and the legacy of Jamaica in pop culture today.

What side of Jamaica did you want people to see with this film?
KREESHA TURNER: People know Bob Marley, reggae music, jerk chicken, and they only see the resorts. When I lived in Jamaican I lived in Kingston, in Spanish Town, and when I go there the only place I want to go is Kingston because that’s where the culture is the richest. On Monday nights, I wanna go to the dancehall at Susie’s and make sure I learn the hottest new dance. I understand why people don’t get to go see it because often you need a local to show you these places, but in this instance I got this opportunity through film.

America loves dance films; why did you want set this one in Jamaica?
NICK CANNON: Why not? I mean, why hasn’t this been done before? That’s what I felt as soon as I stepped foot in Jamaica. I couldn’t understand how such a rich culture had never been shared with the whole world before, especially when you think about everyone who has borrowed from it: the number one song from Drake today, Justin Bieber's video, all the dance moves mass media falls in love with from Beyonce stem from what’s going on in Kingston. And then when you think about the passion that’s involved wth Jamaican culture, it's like, they’re not sitting around waiting for things to get all pretty: they want it raw and dutty. That should be shared in the way of Dirty Dancing or Saturday Night Fever. It doesn’t get any more passionate than Kingston, Jamaica.

What is something new that people will learn about Jamaica or dancehall culture from this film?
CANNON: You're gonna learn the history first and foremost. I take a unique approach in how I chose to tell this story because I used real footage, real artists, and it’s based on a true story too. In Jamaica they dance to a different beat — the upbeat, and so you're going to see me do a lot of stuff! Also, dance brings us all together, and I talk about that in the film. I show that no matter what class you’re from — uptown or downtown — when you’re in the dancehall everyone’s equal, and it’s how you choose to express yourself that makes you stand out.

Kreesha, this seed of this movie started with a trip you and Nick took to Jamaica. What was it like to walk into a club with him there?

TURNER: You know, Jamaican’s don’t business! They’re like, 'Oh, ah Nick Cannon dat? Alright!' So they were cool and that allowed him an opportunity to witness an environment without too much disturbance; like viewing something in its natural habitat without any foreign obstacles. Jamaicans behaved the way they normally do.

How do you think this film will enhance how we talk about dancehall in 2016?
TURNER: As a cultural ambassador — someone from Edmonton, Alberta and Jamaica — I’m so excited. It’s brilliant and really coincidentally timing! Jamaica is one of the most musically influential nations in the world. Throughout the entire globe, there are pockets that are constantly in touch with what goes on in the dancehall community, from Germany to Japan, to different parts of Africa like Ghana. There’s a love for reggae and dancehall that many people don’t even know about. And because Caribbean music is now coming back into the mainstream, there are so many things that make this the perfect time to educate people on where this music, this vibe, and these dance moves come from.

Movies: Sweatin' with Cannon, Dancehall Style

- from The Hollywood Reporter, at the Toronto Int'l Film Festival

Nick Cannon wrote, directed and stars in this musical drama woven around the influential Jamaican dance scene, which also features Busta Rhymes.

Even if you don't know your Dutty Wine from your Hottie Hottie Bogle, your Pop Di Collar from your Row Di Boat, or your Wave from your Wacky Dip, chances are you'll recognize the pulsating moves and sounds in King of the Dancehall as the frequent inspiration for artists like Beyonce and Rihanna. As writer, director and star, Nick Cannon immerses himself in the vibrant Jamaican dance scene to return those bold syncopated beats and motorized bumps and grinds to their Kingston street-culture origins. If his raggedy storytelling skills don't match his affection for the subject, the unpolished craftsmanship is as much a part of the movie's kick as its humor and hot rhythms.

What it is, basically, is an entertaining mess that benefits from Cannon's relaxed charisma as well as from the extensive exhibition of his sculpted physique. Tank tops are tossed with abandon, including one hilarious nude-look mesh number in rasta colors that comes off to showcase the rippling muscles of his character Tarzan Brixton in triplicate, as multiple images of him are shown practicing dance moves on the Jamaican shore. Call it a vanity project if you will, but there's something inherently likeable about Cannon's chutzpah, both in front of and behind the camera.

Among his inspirations, Cannon has cited City of God, which is reflected in the restless energy and saturated tropical colors; as well as Saturday Night Fever and Dirty Dancing. Unfortunately, it's more the latter film's contrived 2004 ersatz sequel, Havana Nights, that this formulaic string of clichés evokes. But hey, who doesn't love a dance-off? Clearly not Cannon, for whom the element of competition has been a unifying career thread, from his breakout role in Drumline to his comedy improv battle series, Wild 'n Out, to his 2014 directing debut, School Dance.

The film is based on a true story and, not that the plotting-by-numbers supplies much authenticity, it's punctuated throughout by documentary-style commentary from Moses "Beenie Man" Davis, who also provides some soundtrack tunes.

The story begins with Tarzan's release after five years in prison. Returning home to his ailing mother (Whoopi Goldberg, barely awake) in Brooklyn, he learns that she spent everything she had on his legal fees and is unable to afford healthcare. Having stashed away $5,000 before he went inside, Tarzan travels to Jamaica to team up with his cousin Allestar, aka "All Star Toast" (Busta Rhymes), to move high-grade low-cost ganja at huge profits.

The veteran hip-hop star's flair for broad comedy in helpfully subtitled thick patois is the best thing about this early section, and the blast of a time he appears to be having is quite infectious. In the midst of a spat with his lady, Allestar has temporarily moved back in with his no-nonsense mother (Dorothy Cunningham, hilarious) — "It was Christmas 1979 the last time she smiled," says Tarzan in one of his too-frequent voiceover notes — so the two grown cousins sleep on bunk beds like outsize kids.

A local stunner named Maya instantly catches Tarzan's eye, played by Kimberly Patterson, who applied to the makeup department but was recruited instead to be Cannon's leading lady. She's the daughter of a stern holy man (Louis Gossett Jr.), but her wild sensuality on the dancefloor suggests anything but prayer.

We learn that dancehall originated in the 1970s but has roots as far back as the '40s, and as dancers of all colors, shapes and sizes shimmy and pop and limbo and leap, Tarzan observes, "Down here, they put the 'nasty' in gymnastics." It's one of the cardinal rules of filming dance that the camera should never forget the feet, but cinematographer Luis Perez more often opts for the bouncing booty shot, a choice pretty much dictated by the sexually provocative moves. The dance scenes become somewhat repetitive but the athleticism on display is off the charts.

Maya explains to Tarzan that dancehall prowess is an essential part of bad-boy currency in Kingston, and that if he wants to make headway with her he had better learn to feel the beat. She gives him lessons in Daddy's church, of all places, but keeps it strictly terpsichorean. "I consider myself a queen," she tells him. "A man has to be a king before he can enter the castle." To prepare him for that inevitable coronation, she hooks him up with the best underground dance crew in town, the All-Star Blazers.

Tarzan spends months refining his dance skills, while also building up his weed operation. But he ruffles the feathers of Young Dada (Colin "Collie Buddz" Harper), the white son of a crime kingpin, by intruding on his turf and getting mixed up with Dada's sizzling half-sister, Lady Kaydeen (Kreesha Turner). She and Maya are old enemies, and their rivalry is played out on the dancefloor as their respective crews, the Dutty Gyals and the Ladyeez, do battle.

Dada's goons and the corrupt cops on his payroll put a serious crimp in Tarzan's operations, and things look grim until Maya's father uses his connections to help. Determined to go straight and honor a promise made to his mother, Tarzan sees the cash prize in a dance clash as his key to a fresh start. But while things get serious with Maya, Kaydeen doesn't take rejection lightly, calling in her sociopathic gangster father (Peter Stormare, in a bonkers performance) to dole out punishment.

To his credit, Cannon chooses not to wrap it all up with an improbably happy ending, but instead to anoint Tarzan as a legend in a bittersweet conclusion that carries on his legacy. Even on the rare occasions when the story does take an unpredictable turn, however, there's a rote feel to the proceedings, with the lack of shading in the characters and performances robbing the romantic thread of much depth. Some truly awkward closeups don't help in that regard.

Cannon favors the busy cutting and frenetic pace of music videos, while handling dialogue scenes with more obligation than interest. That means the dramatic stakes never feel terribly real, even when Dada is out for blood. But the movie comes alive on the dancefloor, which is where it matters most, and the film partly compensates in scrappy charm for what it lacks in sophistication.

Music: Crazy Like A Fox, saluting pioneering musical provocateur, Prince Buster

An obituary by Jon Pareles for The New York Times.

Prince Buster, a performer and producer who transformed Jamaican music in the 1960s as a trailblazer of the ska beat, died on Thursday in Miami. He was 78.

His wife, Mola Ali, confirmed his death to The Associated Press, saying he had been hospitalized with heart problems.

Under his own name and as the producer for many singers, Prince Buster released hundreds of songs in Jamaica. Sessions he produced as the 1960s began are widely credited as the first ska singles. They introduced a distinctively Jamaican emphasis on the backbeat, underlined on guitar and saxophone, that would persist as Jamaican pop evolved toward reggae.

In the late 1960s, Prince Buster had another influential guise: hit singles in which he spoke as Judge Dread, ruling harshly against the criminal exploits of Jamaica’s “rude boys.”

Cecil Bustamente Campbell was born in Kingston, Jamaica, on May 24, 1938. He performed with teenage groups in Kingston; he also became a boxer, taking the name Prince Buster.

In the 1950s he began working for one of Jamaica’s top producers and sound-system disc jockeys, Coxsone Dodd. By the end of the decade he had opened a record store, Buster’s Record Shack, and was playing street parties with his own sound system, the Voice of the People. He decided to start producing songs as well as spinning them.

Jamaicans were listening to, and imitating, the American R&B that reached the island on radio stations from New Orleans and Miami. Prince Buster’s productions were more deliberately Jamaican. His production of the Folkes Brothers’ “Oh Carolina,” recorded in 1959, meshed the traditional Nyabinghi drumming of a Rastafarian musician, Count Ossie, with what would come to be known as a ska beat.

That beat, in songs like Eric Morris’s “Humpty Dumpty,” made for huge hits in Jamaica and also had an impact in 1960s Britain. Prince Buster’s instrumental “Al Capone” was a Top 20 hit there in 1965.

By the end of the 1960s ska had given way to the slower rocksteady beat, a closer precursor of reggae. Prince Buster adapted, notably with his series of singles using his Judge Dread character. But in the early 1970s he gave up producing music and concentrated on business ventures, including record stores and a jukebox company, and moved to Miami.

Punk-era rock fans were introduced to Prince Buster through “One Step Beyond,” the title track of the 1979 debut album by the English ska-revival band Madness, which was a sped-up remake of an instrumental Prince Buster released in 1964. The group had taken its name from Prince Buster’s song “Madness Is Gladness,” and its first single was “The Prince,” a tribute to him. Other ska-revival groups like the Specials and the English Beat also recorded Prince Buster’s songs.

Prince Buster returned to occasional performing from the 1980s into the early 2000s, and he made some new recordings in the 1990s in a modest comeback. A commercial for Levi’s helped him get a Top 30 hit in Britain in 1998, a remake of his song “Whine and Grine.”

Beside his wife, he is survived by their three children and several other children

Politics: Had Lisa [Hanna] Led....

First, I do not often write opinion pieces on Jamaican politics - contending with die-hards of either party seems so often to be a battle with no victors.

Second, I carry no brief for Lisa Hanna. Apart form the overall sense of narcissism - understandable, given both her present occupation and its antecedents - I believe her tenure as Minister was, at best, a mixed bag, a work-in-progress that does not reflect sufficient progress.

So what, apart from the fact of the impending PNP Leadership race, would have led me  to put this together?

Specifically, an article in the Jamaica Observer of Sunday Sep 11, titled "Lisa's Tough Climb". (right). The article details both support for and opposition to Hanna'a candidacy for one of the party's four Vice-Presidential posts.

Actually, it was a quote, attributed to an unnamed "member of the party hierarchy" to the effect that Hanna has not yet "served her apprenticeship" or paid her dues.

What????

even to a rank outsider like myself, that is preposterously offensive.The party, having lost the General elections, and far from certain in the impending(?) Local government poll, is still struggling to digest a report from its own Internal Committee, which examined the reasons for the election defeat. Aside from the party leader's  refusal to participate in national Debates, the disconnect between the party and both the public at large and its own constituents, a disconnect in no small way linked to the perception that the "hierarchy" has outlived its usefulness and should, in the Jamaican parlance, "tek weh itself".

It hasn't, choosing instead to focus on Hanna's (long) prior affiliation with the Jamaica Labour Party and the perceived deficit in dues. This, while making a presumptive winner of sitting VP Fenton Ferguson, an individual who bungled his way through the Health portfolio to a breathtaking degree.

All of which, leads me to a bit of speculation (hallucination, some of you might say). what if Hanna had actually led the party in the last election? What if President Portia Simpson Miller had chosen - in a manner similar to Bruce Golding (albeit under different circumstances) to demit office before the "natural" end of her term an hand over the reins to the younger, more media-savvy and forward-looking candidate.

Would that in and of itself propelled the PNP to victory? Maybe, maybe not. We really can't tell. But we do know this. The PNP lost 9 seats that it held prior to February 25, and a good number of those to first-time political opponents. Would Hanna's "change-minded" agenda have been able to sniff out those shifts and counter a least some of them, enough to see the "party of NW Manley" retain the majority at Gordon House?

I suspect she would, though I submit that she's not the only one who could. The PNP, to its credit, has a number of bright young candidates generating significant goodwill among the populace. Deputy General secretary Julian Robinson is one such, though he arguably lacks the charisma to galvanize the new generation?

As the Observer article indicates, and really, as has been obvious over the last couple of years, Hanna is not universally liked within the Party. But she has organized well enough to retain major seat - a seat the PNP has in fact never lost, regardless of the overall outcome of General Elections She's smart, articulate and yes, easy on the eyes (as the now infamous bikini photo at top reminds us), and ii might be THE critical factor but its still a factor. And, equally important, she's demonstrated that she can stay in the proverbial kitchen and function even when the heat is way up.

Could it be, that just as she did by not debating the Opposition, that Portia Simpson miller missed a major opportunity by a) - mistiming her exit, and b) - not making the kind of radical shift in leadership that Hanna represents. Hanna as President would have changed the entire tenor of the political conversation in this country. And, whereas not ALL  the undoubted foreign media interest would be favourable, it would certainly be substantial: a "Third World' country transitioning from one woman leader to another when Uncle Sam is , even now, having conniptions about putting a woman in for the first time.

So yes, Lisa Hann may well be facing an uphill battle for hearts and minds in the demoralised PNP and yes, she is presently seeking the VP post and not the Presidency. Even assuming she succeeds in her bid at this Conference, with the incumbent as yet unwilling to give up the spotlight, and with other contenders biding their time, the leadership is still some ways away.

But the great luxury of the past (and, to a lesser extent, the present) is the ability to speculate on a  different kind of future - just for a change

Business: at FLOW, Good News Quickly Becomes Bad News

apologies to the band, Modest mouse, for the headline



"wish me luck"

FLOW CEO Garfield "Garry" Sinclair was heard to appeal for fortune and providence via his staffers.

he knew he was going to need them.

indeed, Sinclair was not even  through his famously polished annual summary before the heckling started.

What started as sporadic 'fire" turned into an all-out assault on the telecoms giant. ironic, since the CEO's spiel included news of a profit - the first in a decade (nine AGMs exactly) and, at a billion-and-change, quite a sprucy performance.

but the shareholders, punch-drunk from the "long winter of discontent" were in no mood to cut the CEO and the Board (with new Chairman mark Kerr-Jarrett at the helm) any slack in the face of the classic "fightin' words" : No Dividend.

Noted minority shareholder activist orett Staple flatly told the directors that he did NOT believe there was a profit, raising the unsavoury (and, in my view unfounded) implication that the Board had signed off on a cooking of the books.

After a near three-hour shellacking, culminating in a rejection of the company motion to retain auditors KPMG and set Auditors' remuneration, it was clear that Sinclair's wish was not going to be granted, except to say that he was lucky to have survived.

With darkness descending on Kingston's Knutsfoed Court, the much-anticipated raffle brought some sorely needed levity to a nightthat none on the head table will be anxious to repeat, especially with the fresh spectre of a first-quarter loss now hanging over the enterprise.

We have high hopes for a FLOW rebound (subject to the revealed intentions of new corporate parent, Liberty Global), but we can't resist going out with another Modest Mouse title (look them up  http://modestmouse.com/):



We Were Doomed Even Before the Ship Even Sank

National Affairs: Long-haired Freaky Kids and Hope Road

Its 1976.

A generation ago.

He was a youngster, not as young as Zavier's three years mind you, but still very much a minor..

His parents, devout Ratafarians, has no doubt faced their own levels of persecution, this being 1976. Despite the meteoric rise of the "Gong" Bob Malrey and the increasing adulation abroad, Rastas  at home were still the collective public enemy - facing intermittent harassment from Police and unmitigated contempt from the "better" classes, whose own ranks were being thinned out by the deepening Socialist experiment, and the rampant violence.

Still, the parent of Jahboukie Myton(thanks Fragano Ledgister, from Facebook, for supplying the name and year), had high hopes and aspirations for their boy, that even within the entrenched divisions of this society, that he might find a place in a "good school" and thus get the critical leg-up needed to progress beyond their clearly humble station.

I don't at this moment know or recall the name of the school involved, but young Jahboukie was denied access solely on the grounds that, like his parents (and probably several others in his community), HE WORE DREADLOCKS. The parents took their protest to the media, and very soon, it was enough of an imbroglio to demand the attention of the then Prime Minister's wife, Beverly Manley who, along with her husband, had been robustly pressing to end the kinds of social injustice typified in the Myton case, and no less so here.

With Mrs Manley's help, Jahboukie was ultimately enrolled at the Jamaica House basic School (on the grounds of what was intended to serve as the official residence of the Prime Minister, and located - you guessed it! - on Hope Road, a hefty stone's throw southward from the Marley residence

Now, to the present, where even colleagues of mine, individuals more than old enough to have witnessed the struggle of "long-haired, freaky people" are siding with the administration of Hopefield Prep School, a school whose location a hefty stone's throw from Bob Marley's former digs on Hope Road offers a remarkable irony.

The school, as reported in the Jamaica observer (good work, Kimberly Brown) had the temerity to not only deny the child enrolment, but, to reply to the mother's protestations with insidious comments about "head lice" (over and above being untidy and dirty) .

Needless to say, when pressed by the journalist, the school reverted to the old standby: "No comment [at this time]". But to go from "head lice" to "no comment" is like trying to bring  vehicle from 100mph to zero within 20 feet, with a brick wall at the other end. Imagewise, things go splat!

So now the administration is clearly circling the wagons in the hope that this storm, like so many before it, will prove momentary and blow over without too much being extracted from the school, like say, an apology or worse, damages from a lawsuit.
word is, also that they have refunded the unquestionably hefty enrolment fee to the mother and have said that now - having been publicly exposed in their discriminatory practice - they will NOT  be accepting the child under any circumstances, even if the mother does relent and cut the child's hair.

Now, fence-sitters, anxious to avoid conflict, will say, there's no big deal; if that's the school rule, you simply find somewhere else.

Defenders of the school are saying rules are vital to preserve order, and that the school's policy was communicated to the mother beforehand (one wonders whether their acute sensitivity to head lice was similarly communicated to her).

On reading this missive, those same defenders will argue that Zavier is not a Rasta child and therefore is not being discriminated against, that as a boy, he must look the way the other boys do at the school.

Such arguments reaffirm the sad truth that we have not moved very far over the course of a generation. That it is still PERMISSIBLE  and DEFENSIBLE for a school in Jamaica, under the oversight of the Ministry of Education (as I believe all schools are now said to be, whether "private" or not) is inexcusable. With one nasty comment, and one dismissive wave of the hand, we are transported right back to 1976.

let's clear. Rules have purpose and  are vital to nay organization. Bu those which do not serve the primary purpose MUST be challenged


I have no idea where Jahboukie Myton might be right now, 40 years down the line from his defining moment. But I strongly suspect that a wry smile (and maybe a sigh of resignation) may be on his lips.

What will the next generation yield, if we fail to stand with this mother now?

Music: Sean Paul is Still Busy, and not 100% sold on Drizzy et al

will have some of dat green juice.” Sean Paul has barely stepped over the threshold of Westlake Recording Studios, located in the sprawl of West Hollywood, when he politely makes the request. Knowing of Paul’s life-long love affair with marijuana, his muse for many a club hit over the years, I presume this is a smoke-free way to enjoy the herb. But when Ritchie his security guard comes back moments later, it is with a cold-pressed kale concoction in hand.

-from the Guardian

That’s quite the clean-living transformation, I remark. Sean Paul grins and leans back, relaxed, against a grand piano. Gone are his signature cornrows (or, later, his not-so-

signature mohawk), and he has given up smoking weed due to asthma. It turns out that

 I wasn’t far wrong after all. “Oh, I still like to get high, it helps with the creativity,” he says. “Except now I just have it in tea.”

Sean Paul: Tomahawk Technique – review

    

On his new album Sean Paul's endless enthusiasm manages to withstand the barrage of cheese that is the global pop sound, writes Paul MacInnes

 

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Life has clearly changed since the early 2000s, when Sean Paul Henriques brought the booty-bouncing rhythms of dancehall out of the Kingston clubs and onto the world stage. The Jamaican artist was once the go-to man for dancefloor dynamite, songs that urged us all to “shake that booty non-stop, when the beat drops just keep swinging it”. Get Busy, Gimme The Light, the Beyoncé-featuring Baby Boy, Breathe with R&B singer Blu Cantrell – these songs became commonplace, at carnival, in a bougie Chelsea bar or a suburban Oceana club. Back then he was among the world’s pop elite.

But while his 2002 album Dutty Rock launched dancehall into the mainstream, musical tastes inevitably moved on. And though Paul himself has been critical of some of dancehall’s homophobic content, there was outcry over the derogatory lyrics of contemporaries like Beenie Man and Elephant Man. Soon the genre fell out of favour and out of the charts. Paul’s 2005 followup The Trinity was popular among fans but panned by critics, and he recalls his fade from global fame a little remorsefully.

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 Paul and Beyoncé in 2003. Photograph: Dimitrios Kambouris/WireImage

“Since about 2009, I was fighting that worry that I wasn’t relevant no more,” he says, as we sit in the windowless womb of a studio. “It does stress you out at times. I was like, ‘I was up here and now I’m nothing to people.’” His last album, 2014’s Full Frequency, sold fewer than 5,000 copies in the US. In 2015, the Grammy award-winning performer left his label and became an independent artist for the first time in a decade.

Over the past year, however, dancehall has been dutty wining its way back into the worldwide consciousness. Diplo, long in debt to dancehall’s digital rhythms, brought them to an even wider audience as Major Lazer. Last year, Lazer’s track Lean On became the most streamed single of all time, albeit one that’s since been given the dubious title of “tropical pop”. Then came Justin Bieber’s mega-hit Sorry, which teamed a skeletal dancehall beat with pure pop and was a accompanied by dancehall moves in the dancing video. Never one to be left out, Drake openly drew on dancehall throughout Views From The Six. Dancehall talent Assassin, meanwhile, made his mark both on Kanye’s Yeezus and, more recently, Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp A Butterfly.

Dancehall distraction: the club night uniting South Sudan's youth

 

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It’s an international resurgence that Sean Paul has witnessed with both amusement and scepticism. He’s even detected dancehall influences in artists who might be considered unlikely adopters of Jamaican riddims. “You can definitely hear it in Taylor Swift,” he says. “You know that song…?” He launches into a high-pitched rendition of the chorus of Shake It Off. “See, there’s definitely dancehall in there.”

One thing was for sure, though: if dancehall was coming back, so was he. Sean Paul still lives in Jamaica, but we meet in LA because this is where he has come to work on his new album. The surprise success of Cheap Thrills, his recent chart-topper with one-woman pop hit machine Sia– which not only reacquainted the star with the top of the charts but also landed Sia her first Billboard number one – has spurred him to finish his new material quickly. As the 43-year-old says himself, no one is better placed to “bring back some authentic dancehall”.

He is outspoken about the new generation of artists who’ve appropriated the sound of dancehall without acknowledging its roots. “It is a sore point when people like Drake or Bieber or other artists come and do dancehall-orientated music but don’t credit where dancehall came from and they don’t necessarily understand it,” he says, shaking his head. “A lot of people get upset, they get sour. And I know artists back in Jamaica that don’t like Major Lazer because they think they do the same thing that Drake and Kanye did – they take and take and don’t credit.”

While Paul says he’s a fan of Drake (“I love some of his songs but I don’t think he’s the best rapper”) the bashment hooks and patois phrases used in Views From The Six are seen by Paul as less of a homage to dancehall and more of an exploitation. He’s not alone. In May, respected dancehall figure Mr Vegas openly attacked Drake as a fake for not fully crediting his Jamaican influences.

A major problem, Paul adds, is that many of the authentic dancehall artists in the Caribbean who gain popularity online can’t get visas to travel in the US, both to tour and work with producers, because they have convictions on their records. One crossover artist Popcaan, for example, who appeared on Views From The Six and has also worked with Jamie xx, has, according to Billboard, struggled to work in America because of past marijuana-related offences.

Sean Paul is equally dismissive of “tropical house”, a music genre which began as a way to describe the soft, Balearic-infused synth of DJs like Kygo but has since been attached to tracks which clearly draw from dancehall. Rolling Stone’s review of Rihanna’s Work described it as “a tropical house-flavored track featuring Drake” while a Wall Street Journal article described how Bieber’s What Do You Mean? was pioneering the “Caribbean, beach-party vibe” of tropical house in the mainstream. It’s no surprise that the genre has been accused of whitewashing Jamaican influences out of popular music.

But Paul does acknowledge that major label artists have adapted the dancehall sound for current tastes, and those are styles he has to look to, too, if he wants relevancy again. “Dancehall is back but this time it’s also infused with Afrobeat, with hip-hop, with trap, and that’s fine with me,” he says. “Sure, I would like what we do in Jamaica, that authentic dancehall, to be on top, but it simply isn’t. So I want this album to bridge that gap.”

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Over the past year, he’s penned more than 200 tracks, both on his own and in collaboration with musicians and producers back in Jamaica, and recruited a series of starry producers, such as Blood, who was behind Bieber’s Sorry. There’s a track with Wiz Khalifa as well as another with one of this year’s breakthrough pop stars, yet to be announced. It doesn’t sound too far off familiar Sean Paul territory, only with more EDM drops.

Paul’s attitude is more one of pragmatism than puritanism when it comes to making sure this album repeats his successes of a decade ago. He’ll seemingly work with anyone who is up for it. “I just worked with Clean Bandit, and another English pop group… what are they called?” There is an awkward pause as he tries to remember. “Oh yeah, Little Mix.”

The one constant is Paul’s ole purpose to make people dance: he’s the first to admit he makes party music because it was one of the few levellers he had as a child. Growing up in a middle-class suburb in Kingston, Paul was just 13 when his dad was sentenced to 15 years in jail for drugs offences. As a result, his mum worked two jobs to keep the family afloat.