Ernest Always Gets an Upvote

Last night was a rough night- the nor'easter which hit the area (the wind is still gusting fiercely) took down a bunch of tree branches on the property at work, and at home the barbecue grill was knocked over, so I will have to right it when things get calm. Locally, an eleven year-old boy was killed by a falling tree limb. Driving to work had a surreal edge, truck traffic was halted on certain roadways, and passing a quarter-mile line of eighteen-wheelers isn't something that I'm used to.

It's still windy and cold, maybe it's time for a tropical breeze. At Roy's place, billcinsd and I were waxing lyrical about legendary Jamaican guitarist, composer, and arranger Ernest Ranglin. As far as I know, his greatest chart success as a session musician was playing behind Millie Smalls' worldwide hit My Boy Lollipop, and he was instrumental (heh) in defining the sound of Jamaican popular music forms ska, rocksteady, and reggae. He was also a titan of jazz, and collaborated on many recordings with countryman and piano legend Monty Alexander. The two have a great way of revealing the jazz roots of Jamaican popular music, with this Ranglin, Alexander, Sly & Robbie take on Surfin' being a standout (with Robbie Shakespeare's vocal performance channeling an old bluesman):





Mr Ranglin also does a great version of Augustus Pablo's seminal dub track King Tubby Meets Rockers Uptown. Dub, with its recursive loops punctuated by snatches of melody, marries well with jazz:





There's a great live video of Ernest playing NPR's 'Tiny Desk' music series, and generally being awesome:





One of the jewels in my record collection is a promotional disc of Ernest Ranglin and Monty Alexander, purchased from a music archive housecleaning sale. I'm not a huge jazz fan, but Ernest always gets an upvote from me.

Millie Small, Big Loss

This week has had nothing but terrible news about titans of popular music. I will definitely post about Little Richard's death, but that post is going to involve hunting down a bunch of links. Tonight, I am going to commemorate a singer who could be seen as a 'one hit wonder', but her one hit was a titanic smash worldwide. Jamaican-born singer Millie Small died of a stroke at the age of 72. She is primarily known for her 1964 bluebeat/ska rendition of doo-wop song My Boy Lollipop, with arrangement and rhythm guitar work by Bastard fave Ernest Ranglin. The teenaged Ms Small's cheery warble and wholesome charisma catapulted her to the top ten throughout the anglophone world. The song's appeal is immediately apparent on one listen:





With this one song, the first song by a Jamaican artist to become an international hit, Millie Small opened the door for other artists, such as Desmond Dekker, Phyllis Dillon, and Bob Marley, Prince Buster, Toots Hibbert, and John Holt. The next big boost for a second wave of Jamaican music worldwide was the 1972 release of The Harder they Come.

Millie Small was also instrumental in the rise of Island Records, which grew to become a music juggernaut.

Ms Small didn't shy away from political content, releasing a musical rebuttal to racist politician Enoch Powell's 'Rivers of Blood', countering it with the observation about Jamaicans living in England: They work all week to keep the British country running. The song begins with a brilliant musical accusation that Powell is a fascist:





Millie Small's discography might not be very extensive, but her affect on popular music was enormous. Her international ska ambassadorship ultimately paved the way for artists playing a succession of musical styles, such as rocksteady and reggae, and hip-hop.

Show's Over, Shakespeare!

Last week was a bad week for entertainment renaissance men, and the latest blow to the music world is the death of Robbie Shakespeare, bassist, producer, and musical innovator. With drummer Sly Dunbar, Shakespeare formed the famous Jamaican rhythm section and production team Sly and Robbie. 

Sly and Robbie ushered in a whole variety of reggae substyles, particularly the harder rockers style, and were sought-after session musicians and producers from the 1970s onward. Sly and Robbie also formed the Taxi record label, a subsidiary of Island Records. One of Robbie Shakespeare's early musical roles was as bassist for session/backup band the Aggrovators, who were pioneers in dub music, which is characterized by its use of tape loops, volume fades, and other sonic trickery:

  

A breakthrough hit for Sly and Robbie was The Mighty Diamonds' Right Time, released in 1976. Here is the outstanding title track, featuring Sly and Robbie as the rhythm section: 

  

Sly and Robbie also backed reggae great Peter Tosh:

  

They performed with Black Uhuru, and received a special shoutout in this concert clip:

  

The pair also saw the utility of electronic drums in the studio, reviving a practice started by mad dub genius Lee 'Scratch' Perry (how did I miss his death, what was I doing in August?). They played on Grace Jones' hilariously suggestive 1981 club hit Pull Up to the Bumper: 

 

In 1987, Sly and Robbie released the nonesuch hit Boops (Here to Go):

   

In the 1990s, Sly and Robbie were involved in the upcoming dancehall genre, producing such standout hits as Ini Kamoze's Here Comes the Hotstepper: 

 

In 1999, they had an international hit with Superthruster, which was promoted with a cyberpunk-inspired animated video:

  

Perhaps my favorite material with Robbie Shakespeare and Sly Dunbar is the live stuff they played with legendary session man and music pioneer Ernest Ranglin and jazz titan Monty Alexander. If any combo had claim to being a Jamaican 'supergroup', it was these gentlemen. Here is Robbie singing vocal on the track Surfin':

  

 It's just a pleasure to see these genii in action: 

 

Robbie Shakespeare also collaborated with such artists as Bob Dylan, Joe Cocker, Joan Armatrading, No Doubt, Paul McCartney, and Britney Speares. He was a towering figure in modern music, though a largely behind-the-scenes one. I only scratched the surface with this profile, which involved a deep dive into the labyrinthine pathways of late 20th-21st century Jamaican popular music. Robbie was there for most of the journey, from the sixties to the present day. It was a pleasure, albeit a melancholy one, to make that journey with him. 

Post title stolen from a classic 'Simpsons' line.

No Time for that Jazz

Oscar Wilde is credited with coining the quote: "Work is the curse of the drinking classes." More broadly, work gets in the way of all sorts of endeavors. Last weekend, I was saddled with work (we're understaffed), so I missed out on an appearance of perhaps my favorite jazz musician in a club mere miles from my workplace. I've never been much of a jazz fan, though Secret Science Club goddess Dorian Devins and her awesome husband have done their best to educate me in the genre.

At any rate, I do have some favorite jazz musicians, and at the top of the list is Jamaican pianist Monty Alexander, who I mentioned in a previous post about Jamaican guitar maestro Ernest Ranglin. Monty Alexander has played with the jazz greats of the latter half of the 20th Century and the early decades of the 21st. He has interpreted reggae standards in a jazz idiom, and generally comes across as a great guy. Here's Monty playing a rendition of Bob Marley's Running Away:





I was unable to catch Mr Alexander playing in an intimate local setting, but there are a good number of videos of him playing live in concert, so I listened to some while sitting in my office. Here's a video of a live 2016 performance:





At approximately the eleventh minute, Monty busts out a melodica and performs a nice rendition of dub classic King Tubby Meets the Rockers Uptown. I can think of no other musician who could pull off a feat like that.