Friday, June 30, 2006
Trojan Records BBC Radio documentaryPosted by CP | Link |
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Click here for my eMusic.com Dozen on free/avant jazz. Posted by CP | Link |
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Freddie McGregor
"Bobby Bobylon" [mp3]
Bobby Bobylon (buy)
(Studio One, 1980; Heartbeat reissue, 2006)
"Big Ship" [mp3]
Big Ship (buy)
(Greensleeves, 1982)
Ready for Freddie
Jamaican legend Freddie McGregor gives voice to reggae
Washington Post Express, Friday, June 9, 2006; Page 24
Freddie McGregor has one of the sweetest voices in reggae—a cool, clear tenor that could have come straight out of Motown rather than the Jamaican countryside. McGregor turns 50 this month and he still sounds like the lost protege of Barry Gordy. Actually, McGregor did have a Gordy-like mentor in Coxsone Dodd, whose Studio One label is often referred to as the Motown of Jamaica.
Little Freddie moved to Kingston as an adolescent, and by the time he turned 10 McGregor had released several singles on Studio One. He also sang harmony on numerous hits and played drums and other instruments, becoming one of the most valuable members of Dodd's amazing stable of talent. For some reason Studio One didn't release an LP by McGregor until 1980 when "Bobby Bobylon" came out, comprised of reworked classic riddims and previously released singles, but it was worth the wait: "The Rough Guide" named it one of the 100 essential reggae albums. The recording was recently reissued in deluxe CD form by Heartbeat/Studio One, featuring eight extra tracks and remastered sound, further cementing its crucial status.
McGregor has since released numerous albums and singles for various labels, including his own Big Ship, named after one of his most famous tunes. While he's best known for his lover's rock and Rastafarian anthems, McGregor has tackled disco, dancehall, R&B, oldies and more, but one thing has remained constant: his glorious voice. CHRISTOPHER PORTER
Crossroads, 4103 Baltimore Ave., Bladensburg, Md.; Sun., $25; 301-927-1056.
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Freddie McGregor Celebrates Reggae for the Ages at Crossroads
Washington Post, Tuesday, June 13, 2006; Page C08
"I feel more 28-ish," said a nearly 50-year-old Freddie McGregor on Sunday. The veteran Jamaican singer's birthday isn't until June 27, but Crossroads threw him an early party and McGregor responded with a 100-minute celebration masquerading as a concert.
Adding icing to McGregor's cake was fellow reggae-soul singer Richie Stephens, who mixed a rangy Luther Vandross-like voice with the skills of a Vegas showman -- a compliment. The way Stephens and the way-tight Millennium Band vibed during their 30-minute opening set was a joy, with the singer frequently directing the musicians to "wheel" and start the song over to tease the crowd or directing the audience to croon along.
Stephens was the perfect opener, but it was McGregor's night. He has sung professionally since he was 7, standing on an orange crate to reach the microphone while cutting singles at Studio One, but McGregor isn't content to rest on his laurels. Accompanied by the Millennium Band and three backup singers, a spirited McGregor sang 29 harmony-filled songs, mixing his own classics ("Bobby Bobylon," "Big Ship") with a virtual Jamaican jukebox of "big chunes" by Justin Hinds ("Carry Go Bring Come"), Stranger Cole and Lester Sterling ("Bangarang"), Derrick Harriott ("The Loser," redone as "I Was Born a Winner"), Bob Marley ("Redemption Song," "One Love") and Dennis Brown ("Revolution," "Love Has Found Its Way," "Here I Come").
After Marley, the late Brown is possibly the most beloved singer in Jamaica, and what McGregor shares with him -- besides a strong, soulful voice -- is the ability to shift smoothly between serious-themed roots reggae and more commercial lover's rock without losing his Rasta credibility or melodic appeal. But unlike Brown, who died at 42 due to drug-related problems, McGregor is healthy and singing as well as ever. Then again, he's only 28-ish. --Christopher PorterPosted by CP | Link |
Saturday, June 10, 2006
Jeff Chang points out a great piece by Peter S. Scholtes on the late Jamaican singer Desmond Dekker in this City Pages blog. (And the story is hyperlinked to the hilt, which I love.)
Anybody who has tried to trace the routes of Jamaican music history will appreciate the work Scholtes did; it's so hard to unpack all the different stories and get a "definitive" tale (as if anything can be definitive) of somebody's life. "Versioning" isn't just a staple of the Jamaican recording industry; it's a part of the musicians' memories as well.
But versioning isn't just a problem when trying to write about Jamaican music history; it's something that historians covering any topic must contend with. Oral history is only as reliable as a person's memory.
One thing that sets apart the telling of Jamaican music from so many others is that so little was written down during the intitial studio ventures in the 1950s and the recording rush of the 1960s, where music was churned out at a dizzying pace. Unlike jazz sessions from this era, where you have studio photos and recording logs and personnelle listings, recording dates for mento, ska, and rock steady records were much more casual affairs. Plus, newspapers like the Gleaner generally treated ska and such as a "downtown" phenomenen, not worthy of coverage in an "uptown" paper. So there's not a lot of written data that can be used to cross-reference the oral histories.
Also, nobody really knew the music would grow beyond the island, so why bother to keep track? It was about creating local hits for radio and dancehalls, not about nabbing the No. 1 slot in Britain, Cologne, Tokyo, and wherever else Jamaican music is now revered.
In 2004 I got a first-hand education on the trickiness of memory while writing a feature about the influence of jazz on ska. Right click & save as to download a PDF of the article.
Just recently I had to contend with conflicting histories when writing my concert review of Lee "Scratch" Perry. The Gleaner reported that it had been 44 years since Scratch performed in Jamaica; the Observer said it was 30-something years. I didn't know who to believe, and I didn't have time to scan David Katz's People Funny Boy to try and figure it out (if it's even mentioned in there). In retrospect, the Gleaner's number seems unreasonable; it means that Scratch hadn't performed in Jamaica since 1962. He didn't move away from the island until 1984 (or so), and while I know he's mostly a studio guy, 22 years seems like a long time for him to be off stage in Ja even though he lived there. But who knows? I'm sure Scratch doesn't.
Another PDF to DL: The first English-language issue of Germany's Riddim magazine can be nabbed for free. (Right click, save as.) They are up to issue No. 4 now, but the first issue has been sold out for a minute.
Wow, all that writing up there looks like an original blog entry. I thought I forgot how to write without the lure of ducats. (Hey, even 25 bones is better than nothing.)Posted by CP | Link |
Sunday, June 04, 2006
At the 9:30 Club, No Complaints About Edan Portnoy
Washington Post, Saturday, June 3, 2006; C04
Who knew that one of the best examples of cutting-edge hip-hop would come in the form of a white kid dressed in a middle manager's thrift-store suit, sporting a hairdo that looks like a squirrel's nest? But after witnessing Edan Portnoy's 9:30 club performance Thursday, it's easy to believe that this Rockville native and Berklee College of Music dropout is bound for greatness: He can spit a rhyme, scratch a disc and build a beat -- often at the same time -- as well as pick a guitar and honk on the kazoo like a fly Renaissance guy.
Edan, who goes by his first name, was the opening act for the electronica/hip-hop act Prefuse 73, so he played for just 45 minutes, but he was the obvious star. Many friends and family members were in the audience -- "Welcome to Walter Johnson High School, circa 1997," he said -- and Edan even gave a shout-out to the "middle-aged ladies" in attendance.
The bulk of Edan's set came from his 2005 CD, "Beauty and the Beat," an artsy hip-hop album steeped in psychedelic rock. Edan's connection to mind-melting sounds and boom-bap beats was made most explicit on the heavy-stomping "Rock and Roll." The song featured fellow rapper Dagha filing through a stack of vintage LP covers -- a la Bob Dylan in the "Subterranean Homesick Blues" video -- by the likes of King Crimson, Pearls Before Swine, Led Zeppelin and more as Edan blurted lines that referenced the bands and record names.
Edan usually held a guitar delay pedal as he rapped, clicking it on to punctuate his wordplay with King Tubby-like explosions. He and Dagha gleefully abused the pedal throughout the set, and the duo ripped apart the English language on "The Science of the Two," an old-school-type battle blast that showcased their lyrical dexterity.
Maybe Edan's music is too far out for mainstream success, but he's a prodigy whose skills will always pay the bills. --Christopher PorterPosted by CP | Link |
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Who cork the dance?
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