Q: Why do you think that sort of consciousness wasn't encouraged, at least not in the same way, back in the sixties?

A: Well, I think Englan' have a lot... Well, England have a lot fe do with it. But yeah, we get independence and the generation that was ruling, and that was the populace of the time, wasn't geared to that. Them grew up in a time when they were just... things were easier, yunno. Things were easier socially and in the market place, work and so on, things were steadier because of the colonial masters' money. It was somewhere, Jamaica was a place to be exploited. So the exploitation was there, but you could get work as well because certain industries were kept going. But after indpendence now them jus' leave, them just pull out them business. When the capitalists pull out their money and the support, then you find after a while it shows up and the poorer people getting poorer and not having anywhere to live. But poverty was always there. Ca' in a the early sixties that's where the ghetto, the slum dem get worse, Back O' Wall an' dem place deh, Trench Town. When I was there, where I was living wasn't so bad. I don't remember it being so bad. It get worse like in the sixties, I think after independence.

Q: There was all reason to sing about it even back then.

A: It start then. How it come about, well, it was mostly rude bwoy. You see, the people who would sing about that kinda message come from the ghetto, West Kingston and East Kingston, right, them come from the slum. But they never really get the chance fe sing about it until, say, them start sing about it in like '65, '66, '67. And even then the first ones like whe Wailers them sing was mostly romantic music based on what was coming from abroad, like the Drifters, the Coasters, Curtis Mayfield's old group, the Impressions. They sing it in that style with a lead singer and two backing vocals. They copy America, right, so they started singin' love songs. And they were teenagers who then after ten years become kinda roots singers, them started singin' love songs. And then after a while now, when people like the Wailers and Ethiopians start singin' about - you know, the Rasta influence again, that is the main thing. The influence of Rasta philosophy, when people findin' out more about Rasta now them start to sing with that consciousness, that's where the consciousness part come in.

Q: Do you think someone special was particularly influential in that, like kick-started it, or it was a series of events?

A: The Ethiopians from the beginning was singin' t'ings like that. And Count Ossie of course. But you see, just being a Rasta group was the influence, the whole society become engrossed with Rastafari, yunno. Beca' especially after the 1962 persecution of Rasta, Corrall Gardens an' t'ing, I think it was '62. And then the police move in down in Trench Town, Back O' Wall, and drive out a lot of the Rasta, and they had to move out. So a lot of t'ings were happenin' at that time, early sixties, and that affect first the Kingstonians downtown. And then out in the rest of the country where it was Rasta was at the forefront of it, beca' Rasta was gettin' the fight from the government. And with that fight then we have something to talk about in the ghetto, because that's where the music coming from now in towns, and also in the country. But in the town you notice where the influence... where the herb smokin' come in through Rasta and the chantin' and the drumming in the evening. Yes. But that was always there. But it come out of the church and come into the yard through the Rasta movement get stronger. The stronger the Rasta movement get the stronger the music get.


Q: What was the reaction and response to Rasta lyrics in England at that time as you can remember it, among the Caribbean population?

A: Well, we always knew what it meant among our groups of people who go to sound and go to house parties. Well, I mean, ca' everybody... Once you reach fifteen, sixteen, you're going out, you get to know what's going on at night. Because your own family might waan keep a dance in your house, if you have a big enough house. But that never really start until the first generation started to have their own house, in order to keep parties. So when they first started comin' here in the very early sixties, they didn't have anywhere to keep it. One or two people did, and so it remain on a small level. Our entertainment scene remained small, wherever, Birmingham, the Midlands, any part of London where you had a cluster of black people. A few people still would throw 'partner', save money an' keep a dance, and you invest in it. And then it become more regular. But the more people come over here to Englan', the more black people come, the more Caribbean people come, the more the entertainment become stronger where people start making money. It was a way of making money, apart from the work, where you're workin' and not making any money and you're gettin' too much tax an' t'ing, you mek money by throwin' a 'partner'. And then also by gettin' together with a lot of people an' mek a dance. So that start happenin' more because the records were comin' over more, and it was worth it. You make money by selling the drinks and food, and more of those t'ings were going on everywhere, every week. So, that's how it creep up. So the clubs wasn't even so popular no more after a while, except once a week. You go to Roaring Twenties, you go to Q Club, or once a week you go to Ram Jam. But eventually the police mash down those clubs because of violence and drugs.

Q: You mentioned earlier, if we return briefly to it, the white girls being attracted to and turning up at those clubs and soaking up the scene in the sixties. It became 'harder' to be white and entering the black scene in the mid seventies period because of unemployment and riots in Brixton and overall injustice and segregation, didn't it? Sign of the times.

A: Yeah, that's right.

Q: But if we talk the late sixties, again, the skinhead era, the early seventies, was it the same racial vibe there, or the acceptance was bigger to mix it up so to speak? More welcome by the Caribbean community and it wasn't such a big deal if they came and checked it out, or the rivalry and tension between black and white was pretty strong between men even back then?

A: Yeah, I think... You didn't see many whites, you never did see many white English man.

Q: Scared or 'suspicious' about the whole thing? The male rivalry, either to 'protect' or to keep competitors away, 'Hands off! She's mine!' type of thing.

A: I think maybe they were, some. Beca' the culture, you see, the message was against them. And the more the message get strong is, I think, the less you see of them. You used to have some who was... You see, it start from school, and the black girls who have white girlfriends from school, the girlfriends go along with them to where they go. And sometimes the white guys who go with black guys go to the place where they go. And they either go or they don't. So it's an individual thing, an individual personal decision, according to how you are welcome or unwelcome or made to feel to the whole vibes, then you keep going. Or how close you are to your friend, and so on. But then there was a time maybe from the mid seventies now where I don't see much more white, either black or white. No, either man or woman. So, I think the message have a lot to do with that. And the feeling of 'them against us' from the black community as well. So I think that was the point at which the white people who liked reggae started to do their own t'ing, beginning to do their own thing in terms of collecting the records more and trying to get a scene together then in London. But I didn't notice, I didn't know of it, I would only speculate that is those people who were interested started to do their thing. But you know what? What made it easier for them also was when Island start pushing Bob Marley. But people like Desmond Dekker, and even Jimmy Cliff to some extent, Desmond Dekker was a type of artis' where white people would go and look at and listen because of the unthreatening nature of his music, right. I would say that. They could not so much identify with it, but entertained by it. They was encouraged by certain artists. And even Bob Marley was encouraged by the white audience because of his own being, y'know, because him being mixed race, and because of the message. A kinda 'one love' message after a while. But that wasn't so at first. But I think the white audience get interested through the Island movement, Island know how to sell them to the rock audience.


Q: It's kind of funny to listen to a tune like 'Israelites' and its real content or message now, a social comment, repatriation, black pride and reality, Rasta, and still it became a big hit internationally. But it was before its 'time', no way near the knowledge people would have in general about that several years later, its content, among several different reasons why it could 'hit' like that.

A: Yeah, that's right. Well, it wasn't 'strange' because most people never know what him was saying, what he was saying there. It was a lovely tune to dance to for them. And even nuff people in the black community don't know the words, they never really know the Rasta part. Because 'wake up in the morning looking for bread sah, so that every mouth can be fed' - everyone can identify with that. So that is what they identify with. But not really with 'Israelites' in the sense of repatriation. Israelites to them jus' mean 'we are the people who's suffering', poor people, you understan', to even the Jamaican people.

Q: Plus the rhythm and arrangement was of a more 'sweeter' kind of nature too.

A: Yeah, and everybody can identify with that. So, we celebrate Desmond Dekker for being like the firs' big hit, y'know. And yes, at that time when he first get those two big hits, 'It Mek' too, the black audience did need some hero. So, Desmond Dekker was very popular then. But in a lot of part now, beca' him never really identify with the Jamaican sound in what he was doing. But he was really living off his show, showmanship, and the shows whe him used to get from those records. '007' was a great tune. I mean, that now, everybody identify with that, black and white. But jus' because, again, it was a great record in itself, and the theme was James Bond. (Chuckles) So it was a really international music.

Q: Regarding Desmond, what became of him and his career later on, do you think he made the wrong move to migrate to the UK and establish his career on English soil instead of maintaining his artistry from Jamaica?

A: I don't think so. Because people go to where they see opportunity for themselves, don't they, and him do a lot here. I think if him remain in Jamaica trying to do it there, him wouldn't do so well. It's only a pity that him couldn't continue with the same producers and go back on a more regular basis and stay, and still have a base here to keep that music strength going. But when you start living in Englan' you have to find a different path in music. And also, when you're with a big company, them put in ideas in your head how you fe do your music. And you don't pay attention to how you actually mek your record and who you are making it for so much anymore, as long as you can get your gigs, get some pay and keep making music. The gigs is the t'ing wha' keep Desmond Dekker going with those first three hits.

Q: No one who had the good fortune to experience the vinyl-only era, apart from tapes and cartridge and all that stuff, they can never forget the excitement of going into a record shop and soak up the vibes, it was pretty special in London back in those times, wasn't it?

A: Yeah, yeah, that was a great feel. Because I first remember going into Brixton market, Joe's Record Shop, and listening to music. Just to listen, beca' I never really want to buy any record. But that's where I first hear record being played in a shop. You probably know about that, Joe's Record Shop in Brixton Market?


Joe Mansano

Outside Joe's Record Shack

Q: Joe's Record Shop? He was from Trinidad originally wasn't he?

A: Yeah, he was from Trinidad, and he used to play at Ram Jam as well. He used to play there, and then after a while somebody else take it over, (Lloyd) Coxsone and other people. And, yeah, so that's where everybody used to go, and come from other places too. Beca' that was one of the first record shops.

Q: They used pretty much the same 'technique' as Jamaican record shops by putting on a 45 and playing like thirty seconds of it and then you had to decide quickly if you wanted it, that was the scene?

A: Yeah man, even less than that. Because when you put on a tune and it start nice and the first fifteen seconds, everybody know. You see, the DJ, Joe, him selling records ca' him want to make money. So he knows that if people hear a bit more of this one, they would like it. But the ones he know people want, is the ones that they play in the dance, in the parties and so on, and the ones they react to. So when you have a sound, you know what sell. And him did have a sound playing out. So him know what sell already and just play ten seconds, fifteen seconds of a certain tune, and he might play twenty seconds of another tune which is not so well known. As soon as you play that tune and tek it off, everyone want a disc. So him just - people stand around and you jus' wait and somebody else just throw them one, throw them one, throw him one. And then they play the next tune, and it goes on like that for hours, yunno (chuckles).

Q: What was the most important London shop in those days?

A: To me it was Joe's Record Shop, because I never know about the other shops. I was living in Peckham at the time, Dulwich really, but I used to come to Brixton to buy record and to listen to record. Yeah, but there was other record shops in West London I know about.

Q: Rita & Benny King, R&B Records.

A: R&B Records, yeah. I don't know them as a shop, personally, but I know they were involved with the Blue Beat label, nuh?

Q: Possibly. And Trojan Records had a series of shops, Muzik City, etc.

A: Yeah, well, Trojan have the influence... Webster Shrowder, who was at Trojan, managing director, him still have a shop in Shepherds Bush Market. So, Shepherds Bush Market was always one of the strong places, strong record selling places. And I know about Dalston as well, Ridley Road Market, they used to have shops there. But the one I know about is Joe's Record Shop. And you know, everyone go to the market in Brixton, beca' they want the Jamaican food, the Caribbean food, and that's where you get it. So if you're passing through you get used to the record shop scene, everybody crowd round. Not a big crowd, but the record shop itself pack, and people outside as well listening.



King Tubby

Q: It was a social thing as well, not just to go in there and buy what you want and go out, it was to hang out and meet other like-minded people and socialize and have a good time, just like going to clubs.

A: Well, you know that when you go there you would see other people who you know, and more and more people coming over from Jamaica, and you meet people. People just go to Brixton to meet people, ca' they heard that they might live in Brixton. They might not even know where to find them, but they go to the record shops, go in the market, and you might see someone who you know. So, that's where it is. But is the whole shopping scene round the market, and especially the number one shop is the record shop, and the food shop (chuckles). I mean the bread shop.

Q: A big question, perhaps, but it is often something that stands out in your mind long after it happened. What is the most lasting or special experience from those days when you wrote for Black Music, what is the most memorable and that you can return to with special pleasure in your mind, whatever it may be?

A: Well, I would say the scene round about Portobello Road where we used to hang out with musicians and meet up with people from Jamaica. Yeah, in those times a gradual scene was developing, people like musicians, people like Delroy Washington, Trevor Bow (from the Sons of Jah), Mikey Campbell (manager of Aswad and, along with King Sounds, director of the Grove Music label), Aswad them was comin' up. That was part. But yeah, that was one t'ing where... After a while, when I started writing, I never was going out so much. But then when I started writing now and going back out and meeting up with people who used to go out and go to the same places that I used to go to, but I never know them then. Like I see them now and we recall the type of places where we used to go, we siddung an' talk an' talk 'bout Rastafari, and the Rastafari scene comin' up. And then the music was reflecting that. That's one thing. But also I think the booming reggae music was great for me through the Wailers especially, Bob Marley, and other people like Burning Spear, meeting them. The whole a the Wailers, Peter 'Touch' (Jamaican pron.), Bunny Wailers, people like Fred Locks, and find humble people as Rasta, y'know, going to the Jamaica, the whole scene. It's no one special... I mean, the first big show at the... where was that now...? I think it was... uptown in London... one a dem big theaters...? Bob Marley & The Wailers used to...

Q: Lyceum Theatre?

A: Yeah, I think is the Lyceum, yunno, but it might've been somewhere else. That was a great show. That was in an issue where the second, or the first time I did it, an interview... No, there was an article in Black Music called 'The Reggae Underground'.

Q: No, that's in '74 on the London scene, but 'Dread In A Babylon' was the Lyceum feature, or from their tour that year... if I'm not mistaken.

A: Yah! Da one deh, 'Dread In A Babylon'. I think that was the Lyceum, yeah. That was a special night. I remember I feel like everything change now, like we take over the world (chuckles). Is a great feeling. Yeh, reggae music tek over the world. Plenty people was feeling that. Because the place was full, and people on the whole don't know what's behind the whole promotion t'ing, but the place was full. People was coming from all over, a whole heap a Rasta, whole heap a Red, Gold & Green, whole heap a herb smokin'. The first time that happened in a big theatre with all kinds of people, black and white, Chinese, all the people in London come. And all the record companies and radio stations and press were interested, I could see everything happen like that. As a long time follower, as a fan of Bob Marley, as a reporter, and I could get in anywhere I go. I could talk to anybody I want, I could go to show, I could go backstage. So it was nice for the firs' time experiencing that, and that was through what Bob Marley was doing and the promotion him was gettin', through Island.

Q: What was your link or relationship to people like Chris Blackwell and Lee Gophtal, Island and Trojan respectively?

A: I never know him well, I only saw him a few times. I know the other guys. You see, him never really do the work, yunno, Lee Gophtal. I mean, him do the work, but I only go there and see certain people like Webster Shrowder and Joe Sinclair. And through them, and Junior Lincoln (Vulcan/Ashanti/Viking indies and imprints) and other people like that.



Q: And Blackwell's 'role' and work at the time?

A: Oh yeah, well, Chris Blackwell, I thought him was a shrewd guy.

Q: His so called intentions?

A: Yeah, I jus' thought it's good. Beca' you see, nobody else was doing anything better, or as good. I don't know what the artists was really being treated like, until afterwards. But him was doing a lot for Bob Marley and that was great, beca' that was the type of music I like in reggae music. And Toots as well, because before Bob Marley, as I say, them was tryin' hard with Toots, and them was doing quite well. It was just that - I think them did have a solid foundation there, but Toots' music never appeal to certain people anymore. Toots' music was kinda dyin' out by the time Bob Marley come along . You know, Toots & The Maytals, their music was the most popular and they was the most popular group for a long time in Jamaica, for years. They was really the most popular group, and in Englan' as well (Carl did a great feature on the Maytals' career up till then that was eventually published in, probably, the world's first serious reggae fanzine Pressure Drop, 1975). They mek a lotta record from '54-46 (That's My Number)'.

Q: But Toots stuck to, if that's the correct word, or even 'politically correct', a 'negro-spiritual' style in the music, more like an uptempo gospel kind of reggae and not as hard hitting.

A: Yes! Gospel reggae, so that's the flavour that them never really hold after a while. Beca', you see, that gospel reggae never come from the roots, from the ghetto side of town. It's comin' from his gospel style, it's just coming from his gospel type of singin'. Beca' it's an Otis Redding kinda soul singer, yunno. See, Toots is a kinda soul singer as well, but him bring it out as a type of negro spiritual reggae. But after a while it shift, the flavour become the rude bwoy... You see, that's where it's always strong, the rude bwoy element of reggae music, supported by the ghetto. And with that, Toots go out of flavour. Andf so the appeal with Toots after a while become more a European, white reggae lover appeal. And without that foundation it never really hold, beca' him never know which way to turn. Him sing country music kinda reggae, country reggae, 'Country Road' (chuckles). And then him sing gospel kind of reggae. But by that time, as I say, really the music did slow down from Toots, Toots was too 'bubbly'. And the music now was more 'one drop', and Toots never sing like that. And by that time, that was what was expected of reggae music, even in the white world. So they get used to that 'one drop' style and never really hold on to Toots. He would have to have a big hit, and I think he wasn't such a good songwriter in the sense of what them want. I think he is a great songwriter, because it come more naturally what him sing. But with the changing times, the philosophy, the Rasta - you see, once Bob Marley come, Toots would have to come again. And him never. Yeah, ca' him never really shoutin' about Rasta.

Q: Any kind of business, whatever it is, it's a harsh, self-centered and superficial thing, and I guess it have to be to survive, to keep it going. But how did you like the record business in itself, being involved in that at the time?

A: Well, I never really involve' in it. And them try to get me involved in it, but I refused point blank. Because before I come to Jamaica, first Virgin Records and then Island - or both at the same time, roughly, wanted me to work for them. Island and Virgin, A&R (Artist & Repertoire, artist development), y'know. They wanted me to work for them, beca' they say I know all the artis'. And I know how fe deal with them, them see me work with them, them see programs that I produce for radio and TV, or help produce at least, narrate and so on. So they knew I could do the job, and they was very disappointed. Both a dem wanted me, but I said no, I don't want to be on the record company side. Beca' that was different, it would have a different relationship with the artis'.

Q: But you did write some liner notes and stuff.

A: Yeah, I did that. But, you see, all I wanted to do was promote reggae music and the bes' of reggae music. So, anyt'ing to do with that, yes, I could've done that in A&R. But I don't want to be under the authority of a record company, so I have to be doing this or doing that. And actually treating artists like a king, instead of like an equal. No, so it never appealed to me.


Q: You did some narration for a documentary on British reggae in about '76 ('Aquarius', featuring the likes of the late and great Roy Shirley, Delroy Washington, etc, and still not reissued).

A: Yeh, they approached me an' asked me if I would help them to do it, Jeremy Marre (director of things like 'Roots Rock Reggae' in 1977, and a documentary on the political side of Bob Marley's career) was one, and there was another one, for radio. A couple that I was involved with, radio and TV. But yeah, because they approached me, Time Out also wanted to do something on reggae, an' they just got my number through Black Music. You know, when people wanna do... when you're well known for doing this and that, you know how it is, people just get in touch with you. They ask everybody in the business who they can get to do certain things, they tell them 'Carl Gayle'. Maybe because I was the only one who was doing it at the time, and it was a different scene. I had the most exposure as a journalist, just an opportunity I get an' I tek it, and I give thanks fe that. Because I was actually the right one for the job, beca' I know I was the right one for the way I did it an', perhaps, no one else at the time could've done it any better.



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