Bill Clinton was described as the first "black" President, for the supposed diversity in his appointments. Almost two decades later, the country got a literal "black President" - not just an African-American, but an American-born son of an African man (and white mother).
Barack Obama, who remains in office until January, has made an indelible mark upon the office and the world, largely for his adroit political manoeuvring, his unflappable demeanour in the face of stern test (like the 2008 financial meltdown) and outstanding diplomacy.
Obama leaves, as virtually all Presidents do, with a legacy open to questions - with an agenda not nearly as advanced as he would have hoped, with social progress on several fronts, but with a rising tide of racially-motivated violence against blacks by law enforcement and other quarters.
His "successor" already creates history just by his appearance at the White House. Not merely the oldest person (70) ever elected tot he nation's highest office, Trump is also the first to have been elected President without ever holding a previous political office. Barack Obama campaigned - successfully - against a chorus of "inexperience!"when he became Leader of the Free World in 2008, but even he had previously been a Senator.
But even more than an outsider, Trump is the first "dancehall President". NOT the first hip-hop, but the first "dancehall President". Allow me to justify. Actor- writer-director Warren Beatty (who's probably more dismayed than many at a Trump victory) cast himself as a hip-hop friendly, ultra-liberal candidate in the prescient 1998 comedy Bulworth.
But Trump's ascendancy brings to Presidential politics a previously inconceivable level of boorishness, an obsession with celebrity, of disdain for establishment, of obsession with money and wealth (and without a corresponding track record of supporting development beyond physical infrastructure), and just a level of personal braggadoccio - including the willingness to settle differences with his fists - that can only be linked with the dancehall genre.
The above image shows then media darling Trump with 90s dancehall legends Shabba Ranks (Grammy winner) and Super Cat (feautred on several pop hit collabs). I don't know the exact date or the provenance, but the image has been making the rounds on social media and struck me as very telling. Donald Trump is happiest when he is in the news and the spotlight is on him. He would undoubtedly prefer favourable coverage, but his media game is now so complete that he was able to swing the torrent of unfavourable reactions to the 2005 outtake from "Access Hollywood" in whgich he boasted, inter alia, of being able to grab women by the pussy (vaginal mound) because of his celebrity status.
In a Jamaica where such boasts are commonplace, and ingrained in the dancehall canon, the revelation of the Access Hollywood clip undoubtedly further burnished Trump's cult hero status. While rural and suburban poor (Hillary's unfortunate "basket of deplorables") accounted for Trump's victory at the US polls, His Jamaican "base" is solidly urban, working class, less educated and infinitely more materialistic in outlook. Indeed, Trump's closest reference point form the Jamaican perspective in jailed dancehall kingpin Vybz Kartel, whose murder trial attracted international attention. Were the Jamaican political system to create space for Kartel in a manner similar to what the US has created for Trump, the "World Boss" would almost certainly trounce the leaders of the two major political parties - a daunting prospect indeed.
As the US and the rest of the world prepares for the beginning of this chapter of the Trump Era, it will be interesting to see how much of his tough guy, straight capitalist, "grab 'em by the p---" ethos he retains. Already, in the tense and tumultuous days since his poll victory, Trump has already sounded a more conciliatory tone, one I expect him to keep and refine all the way to the Inauguration.
But once in office, don't be at all surprised to see a return to at least some of the eyebrow-raising words and antics that he used to vanquish some 16 Republican challengers and the entrenched Democratic insider, Hillary Clinton.
If the presidential race can be likened to a DJ (toaster) clash, then Trump, in the words of oyung star Alkaline is the "Champion Boy".
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."
Dancehall "mobsters" WARD 21 return with a new EP, their 1st in several years.
the Waterhouse trio starts their new campaign. First single off the "Power Surge EP" is the BABY G (YARDVYBZ) produced "OG Kush"
which sees MARK WARD delivering a hitbound hook and SUKU WARD with his
signature bass verses.
"OG Kush" has all the qualities to become yet
another WARD 21 anthem for all the Gangstaz, Ghetto Hustlaz and
naturally the girlz.
The official video for "OG Kush" is online now and presented exclusively by Reggaeville:
-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.
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.
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.
- 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.
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.
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.”
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.
“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.
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.
Less than a year after embarking on a seemingly arduous task of rebranding his artiste persona as a solo act; Bay-C, formerly of super group T.O.K, has hit the proverbial jackpot on the International scene. The artiste has seen his collaboration ‘Rude Gyal Swing’ with African Pop artiste Treesha hit number one on the MTV Germany Urban Charts!
The ‘Rude Gyal Swing’ single, recorded earlier this year, has spent a total of 6 weeks on the highly recognized MTV Deutsche Urban Chart since its release earlier this summer. The dance party track, produced by Deebuzz, and Hard2Def out of Germany, is a mix of Electronic Dance Music with a Dancehall flavor.
‘Rude Gyal Swing’ has edged out other international singles, including DJ Khaled ‘I Got My Keys’, Usher ‘No Limit’and Fergie with ‘M.i.l.f Money,’ to make it to the number one spot. Bay-C shared how he got involved with the project and how he feels to be on top of such a highly recognized chart.
“One of the producers, Deebuzz reached out to me. They had the song already and wanted a bad dancehall artiste on it so they linked Bay-C! It's an amazing feeling. It is my first chart topper as a solo act so I'm super excited now.”
Bay-C already saw a huge fan base develop for T.O.K over the last two decades in Germany and Europe in general; however his Solo artiste popularity grew in Germany after his six week solo European tour promoting his ‘Better Must Come’ EP, in May of this year.
“My solo music was very well received throughout the “Better Must Come” European tour and I’m sure that with a number one single on the charts it will only grow the Bay-C fan base and brand there.” Bay-C added
Plans are already being finalized to shoot a music video for the ‘Rude Gyal Swing’ single as well as executing a combined tour featuring Treesha and Bay-C to amp the single’s worldwide promotion.
The success has definitely not slowed Bay-C’s pace however, he will be releasing additional new singles through to the Christmas season and he will also release the visuals for his ‘Bunx And Galang’ single featuring dancers Shady Squad in a matter of weeks.
For all updates on upcoming and current Bay-C projects, follow the artiste on social media @baycmusic.
Recording artiste BayC recently returned from his first successful European tour since departing from the legendary group, TOK. Embarking on his journey to greatness in his solo career, BayC has released his “Eye for an Eye” video filmed on Germany’s historic Berlin Wall. In “Eye for an Eye,” BayC reintroduces himself to his fans as a multifaceted talent embracing the skills he learned as a dancehall artiste while showcasing his first reggae recording.
The ‘Eye for an Eye’ video fresh off the highly anticipated ‘Better Must Come’ EP, is a lyrical and visual tour through world history as BayC traverses Germany filming on the historic Berlin Wall and the Holocaust Memorial.
“I had one foot in a piece of history, and my next foot standing in the future. ‘Eye for an Eye’ is a reminder not to allow history to repeat itself and to create a space where love dominates hate.”BayC detailed
The artiste also described working with Israeli director Benjamin Lidsky on the ‘Eye For An Eye,’ video project in Germany as “A nice vibe. I respect his work. He flew in from Israel to shoot it. His ancestors experienced a part of the history upon which we stood. The lens is built to tell the truth, I couldn’t have told the story with anyone but him. Much respect.”
Dancehall star Mr Lexx - who has been somewhat quiet on the local circuit is getting an international boost, courtesy of carmaker Fiat.
Lexx, along with Colombian El Freaky, provide the soundtrack for a typically tongue-in-cheek new ad campaign (see link below)for the bestselling Fiat 500, through their single "Bad Boys", which was actually released last year.
The Mountain view native, known for hits "Cook" and "Damn Right I Did It" says he is busy in the studio working on new material
Bay-C, Part of the 4 member Dancehall /Reggae group T.O.K, has always recorded quality solo singles since he released hisproject called ‘The Bombrush Hour’ in 2009. With his venture now though as a bonafide solo artiste, he has prepared a quality EP project entitled “Better Must Come” that he is sure fans will thoroughly enjoy.
Bay-C’s solo artiste push has so far been extremely successful; a dance music single called ‘Flow’ he recorded withBritish producer Lokate and British artiste Doctor, was recently selected for the latest version of popular video game - Need for Speed. Bay-C is very excited about this achievement and sees it as a sign his solo career decision was an excellent one.
“This is definite major exposure. Plus it is a sign that the Bay-C brand as a solo act is a successful one.Truth is I hardly play video games. It was only after the song was selected that I asked around and heard had that it was a hugely popular game. Needless to say I was even more excited then!” Bay-C shared
The ‘Better Must Come’ EP shows Bay-C’s versatility with a blend of Reggae and Dancehall and a little acoustic sound in the mix. Bay-C is also singing as much as he deejays on the project.
“The EP is a mixture of sounds and themes. My lifestyle is that of a conscious individual with deep thoughts but also a very fun and jovial side. I see myself as that kind of artiste, a conscious lover of life and people.” Bay-C added
The project is executive produced by Bay-C’s Bombrush Records with individual record labels producing each single on the EP; Europe- based Damalistik and his Roots Survival label, Fatta 5 and his Category 5 label, Genius Sound and Bassline Records.
The Eye for an Eye single was released for Reggae month and has garnered exceptional feedback thus far. Other singles on the ‘Better Must Come’ EP include; ‘Straight Outta Portmore’, ‘Hold it out’, ‘Star’ and the title track ‘Better Must Come’.The full EP will be released digitally on Good Friday, March 25, and is distributed by Bombrush Records.
Visuals for Straight Outta Portmore can be viewed onBayCVevo page or on the Bombrush RecordsYouTube Page, and a music video for the "Eye For An Eye" single will be released shortly. Bay-C will perform next on the RJR Cross Country Invasion Road Show on April 2inside Clarendon, St Elizabeth and Manchester.
