sometimes when no one’s around and i’m feeling optimistic i whisper, “you can get an original you can get it if you really want trojan pressing if you really want” over and over.


sometimes when no one’s around and i’m feeling optimistic i whisper, “you can get an original you can get it if you really want trojan pressing if you really want” over and over.
this week i spent $4 on desmond dekker’s very aptly named trojan records two-lp double dekker. not only is the first track 007 shanty town, which is incredibly not about james bond, but the second is israelites, history’s best song about israel—except for that “light one candle for the maccabee children” hanukkah song, which is the greatest! i got double dekker at my favorite store in new york city, good records. i almost hesitate to mention that name because it’s so nice and quiet, and the owner johnny is such a sweet guy, with $1 rolling stones albums and $80 west african ’60s albums that i like to ogle with my mouth open. bless desmond dekker and bless good records.
#894: u-roy - natty rebel (1978)
when u-roy does that walk at 2:45, halfway between a glide and a wiggle and a wade, wearing his spotless orange suit, what he’s doing is apologizing for the relatively light posting recently on this blog. it’s a magical walk, readers, and it can mean whatever you need it to mean.
but i can change. and you can change, too, if you in your arrogant blindness have somehow conducted your lifelong affairs without at least once enjoying u-roy’s perfect orange-suited shuffle. enjoy it, friends.
i would never under any circumstances get a tattoo, but if i did it’d be this. or “mom!”. thank you, u-roy.
even though these are partisan times filled with divisions and prejudices, i think we can all maturely agree that the best use of melodica was not actually on an augustus pablo album, despite his ferocious playing, but at the end of u-roy’s dread in a babylon. another inarguable thing is that those pictures of u-roy on the back cover are reggae’s only use of drug photographs that’s both glamorizing and also a caricature of an ad council warning not to get lost in a metaphoric (or literal!) cloud of smoke.
#861: bob marley & the wailers - african herbsman (criteria studio rehearsal, miami fl, 1980)
i just wrote a novella-length dissertation on the wailers’ african herbsman as seen through the lens of randy newman’s sail away in mid-70s america. feeling pretty good about it.
#829: the clash - this is radio clash (the tomorrow show, 1981)
who would win if mick jones’ drum synthesizer solo had a fight to the death with joe strummer’s bicepts, paul simonon’s royal crown pomade, and topper headon’s beret? topper headon’s beret.
#775: byron lee & the dragonaires - jamaican ska (and more from this is ska!) (1964)
if you need me i’ll just be thinking quietly about feverishly celebrating this avalanche of new york springtime by sprinting shirtlessly down park avenue waving my arms to and fro in what this very early reggae documentary describes as “a regular ska session.” you know the one—it’s a throbbing, pulsating dance craze! you keep the beat with the upper half of the body, bowing forward with a straight back and slight bend in both knees, the arms extending at the first bow to the sides, then crossing in front at the second bow, with the body straightening up in between the change of arms from one position to the other. and don’t forget the added side step! first to the right by moving the right leg on the extension of the arms, then bringing up the left leg on the arms’ closing—right, then left, swinging up and down in front of the body, finishing with a body beat when the right arm is in the air. that’s exactly what i’ll be doing out in the sun, in my mind, as i sit here.
#704: robyn (ft. diplo) - dancehall queen (2010)
dancehall queen’s chorus is the world’s greatest miley cyrus cover. robyn and diplo must have been listening to a lot of the young lady’s party in the u.s.a. chorus (“so i put my hands up!”), or maybe they just happened to hear a lot of it on their respective radio stations in stockholm and philadelphia, because they’ve inadvertently recreated its pulpy melody (“now what! your jaw has dropped!”) awfully well. still, to robyn and diplo’s credit, their song is richer and prettier and weirder than the late-2009 hit it briefly rips off, and plus their video has lots of nylon and cosmetics and also a helpful karaoke crawl. maybe miley will sing along.
gregory isaacs is in person in heaven, if it exists. you know what i mean? he really is—the cool ruler, the smooth shooter, the lonely lover, the sweet singer—in the clouds.
listen to mr. isaacs’ extra classic tonight in your red car in his honor.
#631: neg ki pa ka fè la fèt - kimmannye (1990)
i definitely think that the next big thing is an obscure creole hybrid of dancehall reggae and hiphop made on the island of martinique, where the basslines are from the apocalypse and the lyrics sound like the barren and violent hours directly afterwards. frankly though i am not sure about this band’s name: it seems to also be spelled as negkipakafelafet, and i believe they’re a trio that includes a rapper named neg lyrical. i also had to make educated guesses about song title and year—the little information i found is written in french? if you know more, please let me know. either way, enjoy the sultry, cryptic, cataclysmic dancehall sound.
#630: the clash - bankrobber (1980)
great moments in unexpected expressions of joy from members of the clash:
0:37 - mikey dread, producer and reggae legend, smiling with his tambourine
1:20 - joe strummer, frontman, twirls his bandana around
2:03 - mick jones, guitarist, grins punk rock’s rarest and most likeable grins
2:26 - mikey dread, at the controls, stands up and wobbles his knees to the beat
2:32 - baker and johnny green, clash roadies who co-star in the video as bank robbers, and who during filming were stopped and questioned by south london police officers, celebrate their new bags of money.
#611: the specials - gangsters (1980, saturday night live)
i just underwent a very expensive and top-secret surgery that doubles suaveness, triples style, and quadruples intelligence, likability, composure and verve, and i’m still a tenth as cool as the specials were on a bad day. i’m thinking of taking up the trombone, though.