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CD Review |
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"Israelites" and BeyondDesmond DekkerReview
by Ted Boothroyd
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What counted were the catchy tune, the striking vocal harmonies – deep bass behind elastic tenor lead – and above all, the body-boppingly best beat I had ever heard, stirring and comfortable at the same time. The radio deejay identified the group as Desmond Dekker and the Aces. Who? Didn’t matter. The song went to Number One in my country. It was 1969. For many North American listeners “Israelites” remained only a novelty tune – one of those lighthearted, off-the-wall items that in those days could still get past the programmers onto the airwaves. Even I, who loved the sound, didn’t expect to come across the likes of it again. I hoped, but didn’t expect. But two years later as I pawed through a remaindered bin in a record store, I happened upon an LP with the electrifying word “Israelites” on the top left corner, and in smaller type, “desmond dekker & the aces.” The enchanting, bubbling sound started playing in my brain, a latent joy suddenly yanked into the foreground. I would never have considered buying the single, but I quickly laid down cash for the album.
I started taking note of any reference I saw to Jamaican music, and soon discovered that this music was reggae. I read about Toots Hibbert in Stereo Review and about Bob Marley and Jimmy Cliff in Rolling Stone. Then came 1976, a great year. First I was blown away by a brief and unexpected instrumental interlude on Incredible String Band’s No Ruinous Feud album – its key element being a reggae rhythm track by the Great Britain-based Greyhound. Next, Paul Simon’s “Mother and Child Reunion” became a deserving hit (finally, reggae on the radio again!) But the clincher in ’76 was coming upon Burning Spear’s Marcus Garvey for sale cheap, so I purchased my second reggae album and played it continuously for weeks. Very different from Israelites, it was dread and potent, and even more compelling. Five years between my first two reggae albums. Obviously far too long, so I reformed. Although my initial difficulty in locating the stuff continued for well over a decade, my collection compounded anyway. It’s now well into four figures, which is a beginning. (Spousal grumblings notwithstanding, you can never have too much reggae.) And so I recently welcomed into my home three new reggae albums, the initial offerings in a series of “DualDisc” (CD on side, DVD other side) re-releases on the Silverline label:
(A note of explanation. Each title came out on CD from Trojan/Sanctuary several years ago. The advantage here is that the DVD side includes “5.1 Surround Sound,” photos you can stare at while you listen, links to downloads from the Web and so on.) First up on my system, naturally, were the 19 tracks worth of Dekker. As you might guess, many of the tracks replicate what is on other collections (an unnecessary shame, given Dekker’s prolific career). Anyway, there’s some great ska, including “007 (Shanty Town)” and the gospel-influenced “Mount Zion.” Lots of tuneful post-rocksteady stuff too, and some relatively recent tracks that naturally have better sound than the early ones. The lyrics cover more diverse topics than most contemporary reggae. There’s a live cut. There’s good rhythmic variety. So even though this may not always be Dekker at his very best, it’s always Dekker, and that means pleasure for the eardrums. The Marley/Wailers disc delivers mostly the usual early Lee Perry productions. They are too familiar by far, but that’s because they are absolutely wonderful: “Duppy Conqueror,” ”Small Axe,” “African Herbsman,” “Trenchtown Rock,” “Kaya,” “Mr. Brown” – true reggae fans can probably guess the other dozen tracks. All are essential. As with the early Dekker tracks, all sound as clean and vivid as can be expected given their origins.
Sure, I adore the classic one-drop reggae. But I’ve come to realize that some of today’s reggae artists are just as talented, and their music can thrill me just as much. That’s another story, however, for another time. Although
the closest Ted Boothroyd has come to a personal association with the
Caribbean was to have a Trinidadian grandfather, which Ted didn't really
have a lot to do with, he happily took in Harry Belafonte's calypso
hits in the '50s and became a huge reggae fan in 1969 when Desmond Dekker's
"Israelites" hit big in Canada. Ted has reviewed books on
Caribbean music for The Beat, writes album reviews for other periodicals,
and co-hosts a reggae and world music radio show in Fredericton, New
Brunswick, on Canada's east coast. |
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Who
cared what the words meant. Something about getting up in the morning
and doing something so that “every mouth can beee fed.” Something about
not wanting to end up like Bonnie and Clyde – having seen the movie,
I could readily agree with that. The refrain (“…a poor me Israelite”)
seemed mysteriously Biblical. But fact was, Bob Dylan’s “Like a Rolling
Stone” had proven several years earlier that songs don’t have to make
sense, so incomprehensible lyrics were no big deal. 
I
floated home and listened again and again to both sides with equal excitement.
I discovered that “It Mek”, “Intensified”, “It Is Not Easy” and “Rude
Boy Train” were almost as magical as the title track. I gladly endured
the two straight covers of maudlin old pop standards: I’d tolerate anything
to get closer to those Dekker originals. The liner notes were curiously
oblique about the musical genre I was grooving to (“the majority of
his recordings have been in the ‘SKA’ or ‘Rock Steady’ bag”), optimistically
referring to “a new and different approach to Soul.” The words “Produced
by Leslie Kong” were meaningless to me then. I learned that Dekker had
had “forty number one hits in his homeland, Jamaica.” Lucky Jamaicans,
I thought. 
Reggae
Pulse: The Heartbeat of Jamaica is an almost faultless collection.
Three tunes each from Marley and Jimmy Cliff; two each from Toots and
the Maytals, The Pioneers and Dekker; and a generous smattering of other
talents such as Susan Cadogan, Tony Tribe, Ken Boothe and Greyhound
(yep, the group mentioned above). The Melodian’s beautiful anthem “Rivers
of Babylon” is here, as is Althea & Donna’s big hit, “Uptown Top
Ranking.” The DVD side of the disk has Dennis Brown’s “Wolf and Leopards”
instead of his “Money In My Pocket” as listed, but hey, that’s just
another addition to the DVD’s three bonus tracks. As with the other
two discs, much of this one reiterates bona fide reggae classics that
many fans don’t need yet again. But it would make a great gift for the
uninitiated, and in any case, the soulfulness of Toots' vocalizing on
“Pressure Drop” is always worth another listen. 
