Call us miserable but some things really need to be said about the music, it’s been bad for a while and it’s getting worse. In fact, have we already reached the point where all new artists are either generic ex-dancers or ‘i-insert-authentic-Rasta-name’?
It wouldn’t be so bad except for the fact that our music is what makes us known around the world: good or increasingly bad. The retarded spectacle of a deejay in tight pants preening onstage with his mantourage burning out gays. It won’t sell and it will get you banned…
We’re embarrassed and so should everybody. And yet the few with talent and originality that manage to breakthrough despite the backward local industry, often end up throwing it all away, like Sizzla after his classic Real Thing album.
Three questions tweeted from our equally curmudgeonly friend @bigblackbarry to be asked of all deejays, producers, journalists and whomever else we should hold responsible for 99.9 per cent of the sickness that passes for music locally:
1. When dem a do di battyman tune dem an pose up wid gunman, it neva occur to dem seh visa can tek whey?
2. When dem a stick up promoters an doan show up fi dem dates it neva occur to dem seh it ago dun?
3. Wen dem a do a riddim album a month an saturate the market till di music jus a last fi 2 weeks, it neva occur to dem seh it woulda dun?
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