Young Gifted & Black: The Story of Trojan Records
Michael De Koningh and Laurence Cane Honeysett.(Sanctuary publishing, April 2003)
Over the last few years there have been a number of excellent books on the progression of roots music and the powerful bond (culturally, historically and musically) between UK and Jamaica. Lloyd Bradley’s book “Bass Culture” was evocative and powerful, capturing the mood and enthusiasm of roots and culture as it found its way and developed its own identity on English soil. Later, the renowned Penny Reel published “Deep Down With Dennis Brown”, proving that he is surely the most dedicated and accurate reggae historian in Europe, with an enviable and encloypaedic knowledge.
Now Trojan have offered up “Young Gifted and Black”, which is primarily a history of Trojan record company. However, this volume offers far more than that: it is a testament to a label that has been important in spreading a cultural consciousness in England from the 1960’s onwards, as the Jamaican communities slowly made their presence felt. From the earthquake sounds of the old blue beat 45’s, to the soul funk snare cracking tunes by the likes of Bob Andy and on to the radical revolution of roots and culture, Trojan have always been conscious of, and sensitive to the changes in sound, and they have an undeniably rich catalogue to draw from as we enter the 21st century.
The historical narrative and dialogue are recorded in an eccentric and lively style, with many interesting insights and memories from a number of colourful and maverick figures in the reggae world. The following excerpt recalls the reflections of Graeme Goodall (a sound engineer and contemporary of Duke Reid and Coxsonne) concerning the building of his studio which was, so the reader is candidly informed, partially constructed out of somewhat unconventional building materials: “We filled up the wall with anything else we could find; carpets, dead dogs, you know. Papa Kool and I built an echo chamber, a physical echo chamber out of cement blocks, and then I tried to get some Jamaican masons to build a room without any parallel surfaces. They couldn’t understand this crazy white guy who spoke funny telling them to build a room where nothing was parallel, everything was angled. Anyway, it worked good. But there was one occasion when I heard a noise in the mixer and I couldn’t figure out what it was. This was night time and I was recording Byron Lee. There was this terrible chirping noise. It took me about one hour to track it down, and eventually I found that a cricket had got up inside the speaker and he was singing along with the music.”
Dread science and weird nature at the heart of the studio indeed!
There has always been much debate as to whether it is actually possible to record deep roots and culture music in English recording studios: Adrian Sherwood met with snobbery and elitism in his early days, and Dennis Bovell notoriously released many of his hardest UK tunes on white labels, claiming they were “mystery dub plates” imported from Jamaica because he knew that reggae audiences found it hard to accept non JA roots music. The fact that they were euphorically applauded at London blues dances went some way to undermine such prejudice against UK roots. “Young Gifted and Black” adds another tale to this ongoing debate, recounting how The Cimarons dismissed the possibility of ever being able to get an authentic reggae sound, even if using Jamaican musicians, if the tune was cut in a UK studio. Chalk Farm studio owner Vic Keary remembers the dialogue and disagreement this way: “The Cimarons said to me, “You’ll never get a Jamaican sound here (in a UK studio). You have to be in Jamaica to get the right sound.” They used to get annoyed, as they felt it was my fault they couldn’t get the right sound at Chalk Farm. Then Sly and Robbie came over (to the UK studio) and they used the Cimarons drum kit, but Robbie had his own bass and he said, “Just plug the bass in man. Don’t do anything to it. It’ll sound perfect” So I did that, and it did. And Sly just sort of retuned the drums, and it was the way he played them, and it sounded just like it came out of Kingston. Exactly the Jamaican sound.”
Regarding the point of Europe’s deep love of spiritual bass roots music, the final word must go to the soulful Bob Andy: “It was overwhelming. We couldn’t have anticipated the avalanche of interest from the white fans. It was a head spinner. It was a perfect example of how music can transcend all barriers and cultural differences. Jamaican music is crying out for social and economic freedom and for justice and it all involves politics. That’s not because music is involved with politics but because politics is involved with everything.”
As a companion to this book, Trojan have added a twelve track selection of beautifully remastered roots tracks, the best of which is Bob Andy’s moving “You Don’t Know”. The remastering of this track alone has to be heard for the floor shaking bass line with its immaculate sound dynamics.
Reviewed by Greg Whitfield
