I am old enough to remember dancehall when she was only a gurgling baby called dub. The younger sister of rhythmic Reggae, she was bold, confident and brash even though she was just finding her voice. She crawled from the streets of Kingston to the boomboxes of DJs and the sound systems of the entire Caribbean, and was then carried on the backs of Queen Patra and King Shabba much to the opprobrium of the reggae purists who preferred the conscious movement with its veterans- Bob Marley, Beres Hammond and Lucky Dube.
Her rhythms were new and fresh. Chaka Demus & Pliers told us the sad tale of a girl named Maxie in “Murder She Wrote”. The crossover appeal of “Pull up to My Bumper” was heralded on BET and there was no song sweeter in 1993 than Barrington Levy’s “Living Dangerously” a cautionary tale of unfaithfulness. Bounty Killer in “Sufferer” was able, over a popular rhythm, to send a message to world leaders about poverty and inequity. The Joyride caused us to bob our heads in unison on skittle coloured minibuses as we screamed in delight, reeling off by rote “Me want ah jook off a Jacklyn but me affe draw for my rubbers, for my rubbers”. We loved Lady Saw’s “Under the sycamore tree, ah boy want me bow and me tell him fe flee”. Dancehall was not afraid to address the taboo uncomfortable topics (unprotected sex, oral sex) but she did so humorously and with some measure of sound advice.
Dancehall grew to become a moody intelligent teenager, but her overt sexualisation began slowly. “Draw for me finger” outlined in detail what a woman should do were she not satisfied by her lover. Tanya Stephens- powerful and intelligent in reggae- was sexually explicit in dancehall, telling her lover that it wasn’t the way he walked and talked she loved- it was all about the sex. Although popular, this lean towards the sexual attracted the censure of many, and dancehall momentarily withdrew from this image. Trying to access the international market, she experienced a phase of generic accessible dress-up: it began with Shaggy’s “It wasn’t me” and “Mr Boombastic” and culminated in Sean Paul’s “Gimme the Light”. She became fun to be around, dancehall was “nice” again and Elephant Man’s “Pon de River” was the precursor to the dance movement that was embarked upon- this reached its pinnacle in the dances of all dances- Tony Matterhorn’s Dutty Wine.
Dancehall has always been our cheeky little sister but it has been a shock to see her now, legs spread wide open, akimbo, prideful in her outrageous insouciance:
The lyrics to Romping Shop, probably the biggest hit of the decade, say it all:
V: “Me cocky longer than me knife, tell me whey you like
Yuh want me try or yuh want fe ride it like ah bike
S: Well you haffe ram it hard, De cocky nah fe lie
Damage it for spite, Not because me pussy tight
V: Can I put it on the left, Can you take it on de right
S: Me nipple them ah ripe, Send it up inna me tripe....
Cause me affe wine pon de cocky like dis
Cartel spin me like ah satellite dish
V: Spice I never love ah pussy like this....
S: Kill me with the cocky
V: Kill me with the tightness...
V: And when yuh ah come, whisper something like this
V& S: Ah can’t stop fucking you.
V: Cocky no play
Me will bruk yuh back
S: Me will quint it up two times
An pop u cock
When you come inna me Romping Shop
The song of the moment, Gyptian’s Hold Yuh, begins sweetly with “Girl me just want fe hold yuh put me arms right around you” but then ends in the double entendre “Girl you give me the tightest hold/hole me ah ever get in my life”. Mavado’s “Neva Believe” is also an ode to a women with tight nether regions and begins “you breast dem stiff, make me pants front lift....she get dart, in the bath, something reach up inna she heart”, presumably alluding to the length of his own nether regions, being able to figuratively and exaggeratedly touch her heart. I admit that the shock value of the lyrics are arresting and they immediately attract one’s attention but there is something uncomfortable about knowing that the versions of these songs are the equivalent of what Red Rat’s “Dwayne” were to us in the 1990s, sung in bedrooms to walkmans/ipods by teenagers and on maxibuses and the lyrics probably written on exercise books, by teenagers who wish for some measure of rebellion and who will instinctively test the inappropriate. Four year olds have been heard singing the lyrics to Romping Shop. Pardon me if I seem prudish but these songs have definitely tilted over the edge.
These songs are now referred to as containing “daggering” lyrics because when played they are now accompanied by daggering –basically a man and a woman in a party whose “dancing” consists of lewd rapid sexual movements also known as cabin stabbing. Dozens of women, colourfully and scantily dressed (or in some instances not dressed at all), are now bending over or lying on the floors of the dancehalls of Kingston, New York and Toronto, daggering. Daggering is different to traditional Caribbean “wining” (which is sensual in its own right) in that the primary aim is not to dance, but to simulate sex. Daggering is part of the natural extension of “passa passa”- the cultural wave that swept the Caribbean that consisted of a televised outdoor party, the highlight of which were women who were literally willing to do anything, be it gyrate upside down with no underwear in a club, climb atop a tractor or a telephone pole sandwiched between two men, engaged in a primordial battle to see who could best who with the most outrageous behaviour. Passa Passa is a subversive culture, and regrettably, dancehall has seemed to have become its soundtrack.
This is particularly concerning because as L'Antoinette Stines, founder of Jamaican L'Acadco Dance Company, related, whilst choreographing a dance with children during a rehearsal, the deejay put on a 'daggering' song briefly. "Right away the girls were on the floor and the men were on top of them," she said. This, from small school age children. Is this what we wish to teach them?
The Jamaican Digital Broadcasting Commission has responded by banning songs with daggering lyrics from national radio and television airplay and it is probably fair to say that the rest of the Caribbean will soon follow suit. The Ministers of Culture in various islands have already banned some of the artists; in some instances refusing work permits to artists whose songs containing daggering lyrics (Barbados, Grenada). Usual for the Caribbean, this is locking the room door when the teenager has already learnt she can climb out of the window: technology like YouTube ensures that there is immediate access in any event to these songs and lyrics over the internet and it is likely that a ban will merely increase the sense of subversion and so boost popularity.
For the record, every consenting adult has a right to make a choice to listen to what he or she wants in the comfort of his own home. I am sure many of us quite enjoy the raunchy dancehall within the confines of our cars and within the walls of our bedrooms. I am sure Romping Shop has been the catalyst to quite a few babymaking trysts. However, we must pause and ask ourselves- is this where we wish to relegate dancehall music? To be listened to as a mere guilty pleasure at home or as the soundtrack to a lascivious way of life? To continue along the wave of lazy song making, to see what we can get away with (as Ce’cile, one of the top dancehall artists recounts?) Or do we wish for this, one of our better exports to take its rightful place on the international airwaves, played in the best clubs and featured in international awards ceremonies and recognised at the Grammys? Producers, deejays and dancehall artistes need to realise that as long as the over explicit xrated lyrics detailing the choice features of a woman’s anatomy continue to feature in dancehall music, it will not catapult into any other charts other than the Caribbean’s rudest and slackest. Dancehall will become the equivalent of musical porn, successful in its own right but without any credibility as a legitimate genre. The onus is therefore on producers to direct dancehall and to chart its aspiration.
As consumers we also need to be more discerning as to what we allow into our homes. We require a centralised musical and video rating organisation that will regulate the age appropriateness of music and accompanying music videos and organise a programming code that will regulate material that is fit for public airplay. Songs and videos which contain x rated lyrics should only be played at certain times after a stipulated watershed. In this way, producers will be forced into making cleaner versions of songs on popular rhythms in much the same way as they do for rnb and hiphop soundtracks. We may not be able to have control over the versions that our teenagers listen to, but at least, we will have some measure of choice and some control over what is popularised over our airwaves and what is disseminated as representative of Jamaican, and Caribbean culture as a whole.
Vybz Kartel was quite adamant in his letter of protest over the ban of his music to the Jamaican Digital Broadcasting Commission. He argued that dancehall music was not responsible for the HIV/AIDS pandemic , unemployment, endemic poverty, violence, and disenfranchisement- problems that confront the region. However, I am not sure that this is an argument for allowing dancehall to become the prepubescent stripper of the music industry- always cheap, tawdry and base. It is perhaps even more telling that the women and men who engage in daggering, or who are featured in the music videos to these songs, already belong to the socioeconomic grouping where the above mentioned symptoms are prominent.
(Photo from Vybz Kartel promotional material for Romping Shop. All rights reserved).
