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Moments to treasure at Giants of the '80s
Basil Walters, Observer staff reporter waltersb@jamaicaobserver.com
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
Gibbon... earned no less than three encores (Photos: Karl McLarty)
As was predicted, Saturday's old-school style reunion gig at the Mas Camp which featured the Giants of the '80s, provided some exciting performances that could be packaged as a collector's dream album.
There were moments to treasure as the capacity size crowd couldn't get enough of the architects of dancehall on whose shoulders stand the current exponents of the genre.
Memories were made from the performance of Leroy Gibbon, the lone vocalist who earned no less than three encores, convincing everyone that he has not lost anything in the last 20 years.
Echo Minott stood out as a performer to be reconked with, so too General Trees. In good nick also, were Flourgon, Johnny P, while "the officer corps" comprising Josey Wales (The Colonel), Brigadier Jerry and Charlie Chaplin (The General), delivered an entertaining set, despite some glitches.
Peter Metro... blasted his fellow artistes for their canonisation of gunmmen
King Yellowman was not his usual dynamic self, and perhaps for the first time did not rule the stage with the authority for which he is famous. The Bandelero Pinchers, Little John and Sassafrass really didn't rise to the occasion.
Apart from the highly explosive segment of live music selections between long-time rivals King Jammys and Jack Scorpio during which they unleashed a slew of colourful and keenly competitive 'specials', the pick for the high-powered performance of the night was Peter Metro.
"All a di people dem who waan see all gunman dead outta Jamaica, oonu gimme some signal soh. Watch yah, all who luv sweet Jamaica hol up oonnu hand, yu kno why. Mi sey di crime rate rise again and di people dem a bawl fi Missa Adams and his boys, cause from Adams gone gunman tek Jamaica by storm."
Echo Minott... stood out as a performer to be reckoned with
Using the cultural space from which thugs and gangsterism would often get moral support, the gigantic hardcore lyrics master, albeit from a different era, did not only condemn crime and violence, he also blasted his fellow artistes for their canonisation of gunmen and gunmanship in their recorded music and during stage performances.
Peter Metro, undoubtedly one the giants from the first decade of dancehall music, received rave response from the musically intoxicated crowd for taking the moral high ground in what could be seen as exposing the frequent condescending hypocrisy of some of dancehall's intellectual apologists.
With the crowd solidly behind him, he belted out; "Massive, yu see right now, wi jus come fi bun a fyah... wi haffi talk, seen.... a weh day dem kill me sister down a Clarendon, she and har husband....And mi look pon eeh and mi sey, mi a di only deejay weh a stand up fi black people inna Jamaica, you know why?
"Every stage show weh yu go, yu hear some bwoy a bun out b....man and a bun out sodomites and bun out police and a bun out informer.....but how yu feel when five pickney dead, one house a people dead outta east and dem murdered a little six-month baby, when yu go a Clarendon one yard a people di gunman dem kill off. Wi can't tek dem ting deh inna Jamaica...."
Offering himself as the teacher, Peter Metro with speed rapping gave a lengthy lesson in Jamaica's history which had the crowd in a frenzy, before bellowing, "Oonnu tell Bounty Killa and Beenie Man stop come a dance and come big up gunmanship."
Then it was time for his signature "backway-talk", and the crowd went into an uproar as he continued teasing: "Mi name Peta Metro, bawn February, February bawn Metro Peta name mi, Jubilee Hospital mi madda have me, me have madda, me hospital Jubilee...."
Basil Walters, Observer staff reporter waltersb@jamaicaobserver.com
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
Gibbon... earned no less than three encores (Photos: Karl McLarty)As was predicted, Saturday's old-school style reunion gig at the Mas Camp which featured the Giants of the '80s, provided some exciting performances that could be packaged as a collector's dream album.
There were moments to treasure as the capacity size crowd couldn't get enough of the architects of dancehall on whose shoulders stand the current exponents of the genre.
Memories were made from the performance of Leroy Gibbon, the lone vocalist who earned no less than three encores, convincing everyone that he has not lost anything in the last 20 years.
Echo Minott stood out as a performer to be reconked with, so too General Trees. In good nick also, were Flourgon, Johnny P, while "the officer corps" comprising Josey Wales (The Colonel), Brigadier Jerry and Charlie Chaplin (The General), delivered an entertaining set, despite some glitches.
Peter Metro... blasted his fellow artistes for their canonisation of gunmmenKing Yellowman was not his usual dynamic self, and perhaps for the first time did not rule the stage with the authority for which he is famous. The Bandelero Pinchers, Little John and Sassafrass really didn't rise to the occasion.
Apart from the highly explosive segment of live music selections between long-time rivals King Jammys and Jack Scorpio during which they unleashed a slew of colourful and keenly competitive 'specials', the pick for the high-powered performance of the night was Peter Metro.
"All a di people dem who waan see all gunman dead outta Jamaica, oonu gimme some signal soh. Watch yah, all who luv sweet Jamaica hol up oonnu hand, yu kno why. Mi sey di crime rate rise again and di people dem a bawl fi Missa Adams and his boys, cause from Adams gone gunman tek Jamaica by storm."
Echo Minott... stood out as a performer to be reckoned withUsing the cultural space from which thugs and gangsterism would often get moral support, the gigantic hardcore lyrics master, albeit from a different era, did not only condemn crime and violence, he also blasted his fellow artistes for their canonisation of gunmen and gunmanship in their recorded music and during stage performances.
Peter Metro, undoubtedly one the giants from the first decade of dancehall music, received rave response from the musically intoxicated crowd for taking the moral high ground in what could be seen as exposing the frequent condescending hypocrisy of some of dancehall's intellectual apologists.
With the crowd solidly behind him, he belted out; "Massive, yu see right now, wi jus come fi bun a fyah... wi haffi talk, seen.... a weh day dem kill me sister down a Clarendon, she and har husband....And mi look pon eeh and mi sey, mi a di only deejay weh a stand up fi black people inna Jamaica, you know why?
"Every stage show weh yu go, yu hear some bwoy a bun out b....man and a bun out sodomites and bun out police and a bun out informer.....but how yu feel when five pickney dead, one house a people dead outta east and dem murdered a little six-month baby, when yu go a Clarendon one yard a people di gunman dem kill off. Wi can't tek dem ting deh inna Jamaica...."
Offering himself as the teacher, Peter Metro with speed rapping gave a lengthy lesson in Jamaica's history which had the crowd in a frenzy, before bellowing, "Oonnu tell Bounty Killa and Beenie Man stop come a dance and come big up gunmanship."
Then it was time for his signature "backway-talk", and the crowd went into an uproar as he continued teasing: "Mi name Peta Metro, bawn February, February bawn Metro Peta name mi, Jubilee Hospital mi madda have me, me have madda, me hospital Jubilee...."