Voicemail for the music industry

Ian Boyne, Contributor

The tragic shooting of two dancehall artistes last week has jolted the dancehall fraternity and flung them into the arms of "Jeezas" and "Father God", leading at least some of them finally and publicly to acknowledge their colleagues' part in promoting violence and badmanism.

I deeply regret the shooting of O'Neil Edwards, that very likeable member of the popular Voicemail group, and Mad Cobra, who sang one of my all-time favourite dancehall songs, Dun Wife. Out of evil has come forth the good coming together of popular dancehall artistes who have openly decried the dancehall's big-up of gunmen about which I have been at war from 'nineteen o long'.

"The people that some of us big up in the music are responsible for this," the newly 'ordained' bishop, Mr Vegas, is quoted by The Gleaner as saying. In his sermon to the gathered mourners at Half-Way Tree, Vegas went on: "This is an indicator that we need to stop it. Too many people are dying." Finally, when their own are affected, they have come out to say "Enough is enough," as The Gleaner front-page lead said on Tuesday. But it's better late than never, for if this can galvanise the dancehall community to clean up its act, perhaps a few lives can be saved, and even one life saved would be worth it.

The Gleaner reported D'Angel as saying that she would like to see an immediate and sustained ban on violent lyrics. "We need to bring back dancehall to when it was happy," she wished. The next day, even 'Money O' grandma Macka Diamond was seen on television almost "getting in the spirit" with her impassioned, near-tears prayer for O'Neil to rise up from his bed inside the Kingston Public Hospital. 'Bishop' Vegas was back to his sermonising, part of which was carried on television. He was seen leading praise and worship to "Jeezas," not Jah, incidentally, who usually gets the praise in the dancehall.

We now have the attention of the dancehall fraternity. And once we have that - for this brief period - we must use it to press home some points. Dancehall artiste Wickerman has put out a call for evangelists to preach the message of anti-violence.

Said he, as quoted by the STAR on Wednesday: "We have to go now and spread the word that we can't tek the gunshot thing no more." The most famous gunshot, criminality-promoting artistes had enough shame not to be present at any of the vigils, but at least one well-known manager for one of the main culprits was spotted at both the Kingston and Spanish Town hospitals where the wounded artistes were. I wonder whether she went back and spoke to her gun hawk artistes to cool it for at least a little while, and to stop giving forwards to shottas. Perhaps that would be more meaningful that frantic visits to hospitals.

THEY ARE NOt RESPONSIBLE

The dancehall is not responsible for the level of violence in the society. It was not dancehall artistes who created garrisons; who gave guns to poor ghetto youth and who cynically used them to satisfy their power-lust. It was not the dancehall artistes who have mismanaged the nation's resources and who have kept so many of our people in poverty and underdevelopment, providing fertile soil for criminality. It was not dancehall artistes who have over the years protected criminal dons and shottas; paid hefty sums to get them out of jail; transferred policemen who would dare to lock them up and who have even used state resources to support their criminal enterprises.

The political class bears a heavy and unforgivable stain for its succour of criminals and terrorists in this country. The ruling class, by fostering inequality, injustice and oppression, has contributed to out-of-control violence. So we can't lay the blame for our violent society solely at the feet of the Jamaican dancehall. Political corruption and the betrayal of trust by our politicians account heavily for the state of siege which has gripped this entire nation.

But the dancehall has reinforced, buttressed and celebrated the violence which has terrorised this society. Those who have sought to make excuses for the decadence in the dancehall, talking nonsense about these artistes merely reflecting reality and mirroring a decadent society, have been guilty of gross intellectual irresponsibility.

In a fascinating and riveting article in the latest issue of the Jamaica Journal, (Vol 32, No 3) journalist, Dennis Howard, one of the most knowledgeable persons about Jamaica's musical history, explodes the myths which have surrounded the Jamaican dancehall. Nobody who has any interest in Jamaican music can afford not to spend the $900 to get this issue of the Jamaica Journal. In his article titled, 'Political Patronage and Gun Violence in the Dancehall,' Howard, who has worked at various levels in the industry, gives an enthralling historical review of our music industry and the connection between artistes and politics, including garrison politics.

"In the early days of dancehall music, circa, 1979-84, the dons were part of the driving force in the promotion of the music," says Howard in this must-read piece. He demolishes Professor Carolyn Cooper's gun-talk-lyrics-as-metaphor thesis, dismissing it as "showing an incomplete understanding of the nexus between the artiste and the political/gangster underworld". Says Howard : "The relationship between artiste and don is a symbiotic one which by its nature supports and promotes the criminal acts that are sometimes performed by these badmen/rude boys."

Howard says, "The ubiquitous big-up of the area leader is very important and is viewed by the area don as an important endorsement - an effective public relations tool that establishes the don's prestige, power and visibility."

Howard goes on to make this important observation: "I suggest that there are those in the criminal underworld who use the glorification of violence in dancehall lyrics as inspiration and justification for their criminal behaviour. These songs also influence youngsters to enter the underworld due to its endorsement by their musical 'heroes'; such youngsters, in their search for identity, see the example of the rude boy as the only way to gain recognition."

EXCELLENT WORK

Professor Obika Gray has done some excellent work on the use of 'badness-honour' in the Jamaican under classes and has shown how the political class has cynically exploited this.

Howard does not leave any scope for Cooper, Donna Hope and Ragashanti to obfuscate the issue with canards about metaphorical violence, dancehall as a mirror, and dancehall as a space seeking to shock the society to its senses. He adduces the lyrics of some well-known artistes whose words are impatient of multiple meanings.

Elephant Man sings in Ova di Wall: "Ova di wall, ova di wall put you AK ova di wall. Blood a go run like Dunn's River Fall. If dem mek we pop out we gun pon dem, all five magazine we would a dun pon dem ... If a me we would a drop a bomb pon dem, kidnap dem daughter or son from dem ... Give dem K bullet if magnum want dem."

And Elephant Man concludes: "To all bad man dis a the gun anthem ... So we big up all de shottas and we gunman friend." Now Ele and others have been reminded that the guns can be turned on them, too. No amount of prayer and prayer vigils will turn them back, unless we collectively decide to stand against all the forces contributing to our violence-obsessed culture. We must zero in on the politicians, other downpressors, etc, but we must not exempt the dancehall.

Vybz Kartel celebrates: "Dem nuh got no guns like mine, no KG 9. A coppershot a buss dem big head and bruck spine. Me sey one at a time bad bwoy form line. Den beat carbine, who nuh dead blind. Me have dem life pon line like clothes pon line. Kartel buss one inn b ... bwoy spine."

And D'Angel's husband, Beenie Man, sang in Any Mr Man: "Dis bad man like yuh tek man fi claffy. Copper shot a pick yuh like crook pick ackee. Shouldn't dis di man from Brook Valley."

EXCUSE AFTER EXCUSE

Surgically excising one excuse after another, Dennis Howard, after his potent lyrical examples, slams the point home: "The deejays' motive in these examples is clear: It is the blatant glorification of badmanism and the gun culture." It is not just a matter of reflecting the harsh realities of the ghetto created by the politicians. The dancehall artistes, having inherited the mess created by the politicians, then wallow in it, glorify it and spew it on the masses while deploring 'politricks'. Academics must courageously blow the whistle on this dangerous game.

A dancehall industry which has terrified people with their 'informer fi dead' anthem, and which has contributed to keeping bloodthirsty and vicious criminals on the street to kill our five-year-olds and our mothers and sisters, now desperately wants informers to say who shot Oneil Edwards and the Mad Cobra. Mark you, they don't need the police. One of the suspects has already turned up dead. A so the thing set.

Can the saddened friends of O'Neil and Cobra plead with the gun-hawk deejays to stop bigging up shottas and thugs for at least six months? Send a message to those who are shooting your colleague artistes. Protest by not bigging them up for even six months. Teach them a lesson. Make some songs attacking violence and calling for peace. Make songs attacking those who shoot innocent people (or unnu fraid?) Record no shotta song for six months as a protest, so the gunmen lay off the artistes.

And you, media colleagues, stop bigging up gun-hawk lyricists for six months. Don't feature them in your afternoon papers and on Entertainment Report and On Stage, popular spots for the promotion of these people. Let us in media join with our grieving friends in the dancehall fraternity in leaving this voice mail for the music industry: Cut the crap!

Ian Boyne is a veteran journalist who may be reached at ianboyne1@yahoo.com or columns@gleanerjm.com