Post by kaya on Jul 12, 2007 10:18:35 GMT -5
Upgrading Jamaica's Cultural Shareware: Trojan Records at 40
Scott Thill 07.12.07 | 2:00 AM
As the high-tech bastard child of reggae known as hip-hop would argue, respect is due to the old-school crew.
That's the spirit behind a series of compilations celebrating the 40th birthday of Trojan Records, one of the world's top Jamaican reggae imprints. A host of musical all-stars -- from reggae pioneer Lee "Scratch" Perry to Radiohead guitarist Jonny Greenwood and Super Furry Animals bassist Guto Pryce -- have put together collections of classic Trojan tracks showcasing the indelible impact reggae has made on hip-hop, rock and electronic music over the last four decades.
Certainly, the genre's cutting-edge production techniques and intoxicant-friendly island vibe have earned it the highest respect among producers, musicians and DJs. But it is the reggae producers' penchant for turning out remixes and cover versions of popular songs that has left the biggest impression on today's share-alike digital culture.
"Reggae is all about the mashup," says Paul Miller, widely known as DJ Spooky, one of the compilers celebrating Trojan's 40th year. When putting together his own mix, In Fine Style: 50,000 Volts of Trojan Records, Miller discovered the Jamaican knack for recycling the hits.
"One of the funniest things I noticed going through Trojan's archives is how many cover versions of American pop culture were in play," Miller says. (See DJ Spooky: How a Tiny Caribbean Island Birthed the Mashup.)
Because American stations could be picked up by Jamaican radios, citizens of the island nation were exposed to American pop music, R&B and the sounds of the British Invasion. As a result, many of Trojan's most enduring tracks are Western standards or classics fed through the bouncy riddim of Jamaica's cultural filter. From BB Seaton's stunning cover of Gershwin's "Summertime" to The Israelites' upgrade of The Beatles' "Come Together," reggae artists have interpreted mainstream music in fascinating new ways.
"Every possible James Brown song you can imagine has a Jamaican cover version," says Miller. "Same with Curtis Mayfield."
Such rampant borrowing would likely prove unwelcome within today's litigious music industry, but Jamaicans have always held a different attitude.
"There's never really been any stigma associated with sharing or using the works of others," says British musician, journalist and Trojan producer Laurence Cane-Honeysett. "If anything, to most it's regarded as a compliment."
This sharing-friendly approach was carried further by visionary Jamaican producers like King Tubby and Prince Jammy, who, in the early 1970s, started releasing versions of the day's most popular songs with the vocals removed. Using primitive, sometimes handmade equipment, they would drench the instrumental backing track in reverb and echo, then add sound effects to build a throbbing, psychedelic stew.
It was here the remix was born -- the Jamaicans simply call it "dub."
"Dub used tech of the day," says Miller. "Analog tape loops, old-school mixing boards, you name it. It changed the way people listen to music and the way that music was produced, and Trojan was at the heart of all these changes."
The label was originally founded in London in 1967 to showcase the work of Jamaican reggae producer Arthur "Duke" Reid. As it grew, Trojan Records expanded its scope, releasing a near-constant string of hits from top-name artists such as Perry, Bob Marley and the Wailers, Gregory Isaacs and Linval Thompson.
Even after 40 years, the Trojan philosophy of "reuse and remix" remains oddly in sync with today's culture of the copy.
"Everyone borrows from everyone," says Miller. "That's what digital culture is all about. Information, the cliché goes, wants to be free.
"I guess that Jamaican culture got there a little before everyone else."
SOURCE:www.wired.com
Scott Thill 07.12.07 | 2:00 AM
As the high-tech bastard child of reggae known as hip-hop would argue, respect is due to the old-school crew.
That's the spirit behind a series of compilations celebrating the 40th birthday of Trojan Records, one of the world's top Jamaican reggae imprints. A host of musical all-stars -- from reggae pioneer Lee "Scratch" Perry to Radiohead guitarist Jonny Greenwood and Super Furry Animals bassist Guto Pryce -- have put together collections of classic Trojan tracks showcasing the indelible impact reggae has made on hip-hop, rock and electronic music over the last four decades.
Certainly, the genre's cutting-edge production techniques and intoxicant-friendly island vibe have earned it the highest respect among producers, musicians and DJs. But it is the reggae producers' penchant for turning out remixes and cover versions of popular songs that has left the biggest impression on today's share-alike digital culture.
"Reggae is all about the mashup," says Paul Miller, widely known as DJ Spooky, one of the compilers celebrating Trojan's 40th year. When putting together his own mix, In Fine Style: 50,000 Volts of Trojan Records, Miller discovered the Jamaican knack for recycling the hits.
"One of the funniest things I noticed going through Trojan's archives is how many cover versions of American pop culture were in play," Miller says. (See DJ Spooky: How a Tiny Caribbean Island Birthed the Mashup.)
Because American stations could be picked up by Jamaican radios, citizens of the island nation were exposed to American pop music, R&B and the sounds of the British Invasion. As a result, many of Trojan's most enduring tracks are Western standards or classics fed through the bouncy riddim of Jamaica's cultural filter. From BB Seaton's stunning cover of Gershwin's "Summertime" to The Israelites' upgrade of The Beatles' "Come Together," reggae artists have interpreted mainstream music in fascinating new ways.
"Every possible James Brown song you can imagine has a Jamaican cover version," says Miller. "Same with Curtis Mayfield."
Such rampant borrowing would likely prove unwelcome within today's litigious music industry, but Jamaicans have always held a different attitude.
"There's never really been any stigma associated with sharing or using the works of others," says British musician, journalist and Trojan producer Laurence Cane-Honeysett. "If anything, to most it's regarded as a compliment."
This sharing-friendly approach was carried further by visionary Jamaican producers like King Tubby and Prince Jammy, who, in the early 1970s, started releasing versions of the day's most popular songs with the vocals removed. Using primitive, sometimes handmade equipment, they would drench the instrumental backing track in reverb and echo, then add sound effects to build a throbbing, psychedelic stew.
It was here the remix was born -- the Jamaicans simply call it "dub."
"Dub used tech of the day," says Miller. "Analog tape loops, old-school mixing boards, you name it. It changed the way people listen to music and the way that music was produced, and Trojan was at the heart of all these changes."
The label was originally founded in London in 1967 to showcase the work of Jamaican reggae producer Arthur "Duke" Reid. As it grew, Trojan Records expanded its scope, releasing a near-constant string of hits from top-name artists such as Perry, Bob Marley and the Wailers, Gregory Isaacs and Linval Thompson.
Even after 40 years, the Trojan philosophy of "reuse and remix" remains oddly in sync with today's culture of the copy.
"Everyone borrows from everyone," says Miller. "That's what digital culture is all about. Information, the cliché goes, wants to be free.
"I guess that Jamaican culture got there a little before everyone else."
SOURCE:www.wired.com