THE RISE OF GYPTIAN….Recently there has been a lot of discussion among lovers of Jamaican music about the state of Jamaican music. The consensus is that Jamaica’s musical culture is in decline, if not crisis. One point that must be made is that Jamaican music is not synonymous with “reggae.” Reggae is only one style of Jamaican music. There have been such styles as ska, rocksteady, mento, traditional musics such as pocomania, kumina and the burru styles at the root of Rastafarian music. There are also Jamaican variants of jazz, gospel, R & B and rock. And there is “dancehall”, a permutation of reggae which some people feel has evolved into a separate style altogether (even though at one time “dancehall” referred simply to music played in the open sound system dances on the island. But the classic reggae style has become venerated world-wide as a music of special power that carries spiritual and political weight.
Although hugely influential on musicians and popular music around the world, in the States at least, there have been only occasional breakthroughs of authentic Jamaican recordings into the mainstream, starting with Millie Small’s quasi-ska “My Boy Lollipop” in 1964 and Desmond Dekker’s proto reggae “Israelites” in 1967. Nevertheless these breakthroughs, though not numerous, have happened fairly regularly, and indeed happened more frequently beginning in the late Eighties through the early 2000’s with crossover hits such as J.C. Lodge’s “Telephone Love”, Cobra’s “Flex”, Ini Kamoze’s “Here Comes The Hotstepper” , Dawn Penn’s “No No No”, Mega Banton’s “Sound Boy Killing”, Shabba Ranks’ “Trailer Load Of Girls”, Beenie Man’s “Who Am I” and “Slam” on up through Sean Paul’s massive hits such as Gimme De Light”. From the early Nineties on, cross-over success was facilitated by the intense interaction and exchange between American hip-hop and Jamaican dancehall styles. But for the past few years this cross-over pattern has diminished, even dried up.
Murray Elias, who has been involved with identifying, facilitating and promoting reggae crossover recordings for over two decades theorizes that this recent trend is a result in changes in Jamaican music. The scene seems dominated by new hyped-up variations of dance hall that draws heavily on hip-hop and soca, with lyrics that are very gangster-oriented or are “I’m harder-than-the-rest” boasts.” Then there are releases that draw on classic “one-drop” reggae but without its power, using pre-fab beats and lyrics dominated by “Bobo dread” fire and brimstone Biblical ranting, which is very narrow in its appeal, more often than not. Murray notes that the current dancehall de-emphasizes singers in favor of rappers, and violent braggadocio and raw sex rather than love songs, thus diminishing its appeal to women and generally taking away any sense of fun or the vibes that appealed to non-Jamaican fans of the music.
Into this situation comes Gyptian, an artist who first emerged in 2005, and now has a crossover hit in the States with “Hold You” (“Hold Yuh”), the first Jamaican crossover hit in a while. “Hold You” is a unique recording but it is certainly not reggae. Anchored by an insidious repeated piano riff against a growling bass-line and a sort of “broken beat” drum pattern, it is in essence a ballad. Strings give it texture and the overall effect is unique though musically barely coherent, though undeniably catchy. Gyptian sings a double-entendre love/ sex song where many of the lyrics could refer both to emotional embrace and sexual grappling. He is singing directly to a woman. And it is a hit that sounds nothing like any other hit on the U.S. charts right now.
Gyptian, an attractive man in his late Twenties with modest dreadlocks, is filling a void. His breakthrough song, “Serious Times”, stood out just as “Hold You” does. Over a measured “funde” drum pattern, the anchor of Rastafarian spiritual hymns, Gyptian sang in his wispy, nasal voice a heartfelt chronicle of poor people’s suffering. The track, which was fleshed out with a noticeably out-of-tune acoustic guitar and saxophone, stood as a completely unpolished, uncalculated, sincere expression and was a significant hit in Jamaica. It was not obviously reggae and certainly was not representative of current dancehall styles. Other hits followed, some, like his hit “Mama Don’t Cry” were fairly straightforward updates of classic one-drop reggae. Others were ballads that sonically resembled “Serious Times” but were often love songs. It will be interesting to see whether Gyptian can sustain his success, either artistically or commercially. But right now he is certainly the most interesting artist out of Jamaica who is achieving some success in America.
Although hugely influential on musicians and popular music around the world, in the States at least, there have been only occasional breakthroughs of authentic Jamaican recordings into the mainstream, starting with Millie Small’s quasi-ska “My Boy Lollipop” in 1964 and Desmond Dekker’s proto reggae “Israelites” in 1967. Nevertheless these breakthroughs, though not numerous, have happened fairly regularly, and indeed happened more frequently beginning in the late Eighties through the early 2000’s with crossover hits such as J.C. Lodge’s “Telephone Love”, Cobra’s “Flex”, Ini Kamoze’s “Here Comes The Hotstepper” , Dawn Penn’s “No No No”, Mega Banton’s “Sound Boy Killing”, Shabba Ranks’ “Trailer Load Of Girls”, Beenie Man’s “Who Am I” and “Slam” on up through Sean Paul’s massive hits such as Gimme De Light”. From the early Nineties on, cross-over success was facilitated by the intense interaction and exchange between American hip-hop and Jamaican dancehall styles. But for the past few years this cross-over pattern has diminished, even dried up.
Murray Elias, who has been involved with identifying, facilitating and promoting reggae crossover recordings for over two decades theorizes that this recent trend is a result in changes in Jamaican music. The scene seems dominated by new hyped-up variations of dance hall that draws heavily on hip-hop and soca, with lyrics that are very gangster-oriented or are “I’m harder-than-the-rest” boasts.” Then there are releases that draw on classic “one-drop” reggae but without its power, using pre-fab beats and lyrics dominated by “Bobo dread” fire and brimstone Biblical ranting, which is very narrow in its appeal, more often than not. Murray notes that the current dancehall de-emphasizes singers in favor of rappers, and violent braggadocio and raw sex rather than love songs, thus diminishing its appeal to women and generally taking away any sense of fun or the vibes that appealed to non-Jamaican fans of the music.
Into this situation comes Gyptian, an artist who first emerged in 2005, and now has a crossover hit in the States with “Hold You” (“Hold Yuh”), the first Jamaican crossover hit in a while. “Hold You” is a unique recording but it is certainly not reggae. Anchored by an insidious repeated piano riff against a growling bass-line and a sort of “broken beat” drum pattern, it is in essence a ballad. Strings give it texture and the overall effect is unique though musically barely coherent, though undeniably catchy. Gyptian sings a double-entendre love/ sex song where many of the lyrics could refer both to emotional embrace and sexual grappling. He is singing directly to a woman. And it is a hit that sounds nothing like any other hit on the U.S. charts right now.
Gyptian, an attractive man in his late Twenties with modest dreadlocks, is filling a void. His breakthrough song, “Serious Times”, stood out just as “Hold You” does. Over a measured “funde” drum pattern, the anchor of Rastafarian spiritual hymns, Gyptian sang in his wispy, nasal voice a heartfelt chronicle of poor people’s suffering. The track, which was fleshed out with a noticeably out-of-tune acoustic guitar and saxophone, stood as a completely unpolished, uncalculated, sincere expression and was a significant hit in Jamaica. It was not obviously reggae and certainly was not representative of current dancehall styles. Other hits followed, some, like his hit “Mama Don’t Cry” were fairly straightforward updates of classic one-drop reggae. Others were ballads that sonically resembled “Serious Times” but were often love songs. It will be interesting to see whether Gyptian can sustain his success, either artistically or commercially. But right now he is certainly the most interesting artist out of Jamaica who is achieving some success in America.
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