Welcome back my friends, to the flamboyance that never ends. This week we shall metaphorically whip out our king size Rizlas, skin up (on a suitable album cover, of course), inhale deeply and take a chilled and leisurely look at the development of a musical genre with a long and lasting influence that continues to echo and reverberate to this very day, day, day, day…
Chastity Bumgardener was recently (and quite rightly) bending my ear about the lack of dub reggae on this site and, to be brutally honest, it does seem like dub reggae is in danger of becoming a somewhat neglected genre. So we decided enough was enough, put our heads together, combined what little remains of our pathetically addled wits and decided to see what we could come up with.
So tonight, dear reader, and without further ado, your not-so-dynamic duo of Chas & Ivory* will attempt to redress at least some small part of this unwanted musical imbalance, with a consideration of the development, heyday and lasting influence of the finest skin-up music** mankind has ever invented: dub reggae.
*we did consider calling our duo Chastity & Ivory, but that sounds like a bloody Paul McCartney song.
**sit down Dave Brock – we’ll get around to your mob on another Friday…
Friday night veterans will no doubt recall (you were taking notes..?) that we have already considered many of the key technological and musical reasons for the development of dance and electronic music (EDM) enjoyed by rug-cutting Puffins everywhere. We won’t re-visit or dwell on those topics here. However, if we are to fully understand the development of a great many EDM genres, dub reggae is another vital ingredient that needs to be added to our already diverse and heady musical brew.
A teeny bit of background on the development of reggae music is perhaps needed here: First, take some mento – the traditional folk music of Jamaica – stir in a hefty dose of black American R&B influence, add a generous helping of Jamaica’s uniquely Caribbean attitude to rhythm (basically, accenting the upbeats – i.e the 2nd and 4th beats in a standard 4-beat bar, rather than the usual downbeats on the 1st and 3rd beats) and you eventually develop ska – the bouncy and quintessentially Caribbean summer sound of the late ’50s and early ’60’s. A perfect mainstream example of this genre is Millie Small’s My Boy Lollipop – which was a top ten hit on both sides of the Atlantic in 1964. Other notable artists who successfully operated in this genre include Prince Buster, The Skatalites, Desmond Dekker and Toots & The Maytals.
By the mid-60s, the bouncy and upbeat tempo of ska had started to slow as it morphed into the more laid-back sub-genre that would eventually become known as rocksteady. Some credit the growing influence of American soul music for this development, others cite the downbeat and somber economic realities facing Jamaica in the period after the island gained independence from the United Kingdom in 1962, and some have wondered if was simply a case of the ganja getting better and the drummers becoming ever more stoned. Whatever the reason, tempos continued to slow, bass lines became heavier and then some percussion genius invented the ‘one-drop rhythm’.
The development of the one-drop rhythm was an absolutely key moment in the development of reggae (with the term ‘reggae’ apparently being first used in a Toots & The Maytals’ song called Do The Reggay). The adoption of a distinctive rhythmic pattern can completely define the feel and grove of a musical genre (think of the typical 1st beat accent in the 3 beat bar of waltz music, the first beat emphasis in a 4 beat bar of funk music, or the standard 1st and 3rd beat emphasis in a bar of 4/4 western rock music) and the one drop rhythm was the standout drum pattern that did exactly that for reggae music. It’s development has been variously credited to Carlton Barrett (Bob Marley’s drummer), his brother Aston and the legendary (Jamaican born) New York session drummer, Winston Grennan.
Whoever first came up with the groove, the unique feel of the one-drop rhythm is generated by letting (for example) the guitar and keyboards continue to accent the upbeats (as in ska, but now at a much lower tempo) and then concentrating the vast majority of percussive focus on a single downbeat on the 3rd beat of a typical 4-beat bar. The normal accent on the 1st beat of the bar (i.e. The One – copyright James Brown) is dropped almost entirely (often by the bass as well as the percussion) to give the uniquely reggae feel that became popular in the late ’60s and early ’70s. Bob Marley’s Exodus, No Woman, No Cry and Stir It Up are all excellent examples of this highly distinctive rhythmic pattern.
So we now have the reggae part of dub reggae firmly in place, but what about the dub part? Well, for that, we need to take a look at the development of Jamaica’s legendary ‘sound system’ culture.
As we’ve discussed in previous Friday night missives, sound systems were basically a party-in-a-van (very often a party-in-a-ruddy-great-truck) and the concept became very popular in Jamaica from the late 1950s. DJs would load up a suitable lorry with generators, amplifiers, lights, turntables, records and – crucially – very large and very powerful speakers. In fact, they would load up everything needed to set up a street party – and the events they set up became very popular indeed.
This booming sound system phenomenon had several considerable and long-lasting impacts that eventually reverberated way beyond the movement’s home island of Jamaica. The UK mobile disco boom of the 1970s was a minor but direct descendant of the Jamaican sound system phenomenon, the rise of the superstar DJ began with the Jamaican sound system scene, the US and European nightclub scenes were transformed by the DJ skills emerging from the Caribbean, the now widespread culture of re-mixing recordings to produce multiple versions of the same track first began in Jamaica, and at the height of their popularity, these sound system events could easily attract much larger crowds than many of the well-established popular musical acts of the day. As a result, their musical choices and their musical activities became hugely influential.
A top-of-the-range sound system set would often consist of two main performers: a Selector (essentially the traditional DJ) to choose and spin the latest hot platters, and a Master of Ceremonies (MC) to interact with the audience and “toast”. The act of “toasting” (a fairly logical name, as the MC at any given event is usually responsible for organising and conducting the toasts) was the name given to the act of improvised talking/chanting, usually in a staccato, rhythmic, monotone voice, delivered over the top of whatever record the Selector was playing at the time. This became something of popular spectator sport and MCs would often compete against one another in front of a live crowd, with the cheers of the audience deciding the winner. Toasting of course became rapping, and rapping is one of the primary foundations of the globally dominant hip-hop culture we see today.
By the late 1960s, the intense rivalry among sound systems pushed operators to seek exclusive music to attract crowds. This competitive environment led to the deployment of instrumental versions of reggae tracks, often appearing as B-sides on 45 RPM records. These versions often emphasized the rhythm sections and, being instrumental, were absolutely perfect for MCs to toast over. MCs began adding effects such as echo and reverb to their live vocal performances and the foundations of dub reggae began to emerge.
It was a very natural step for these sound system teams to transfer their skills to the recording studio. Originally to create exclusive recordings (usually new versions of pre-existing recordings) for their sound system performances, but before very long they also sought to capture and recreate the rapidly evolving sound of the live sound system experience for commercial release.
Key figures and innovators from this early dub reggae period include King Tubby and Lee “Scratch” Perry, who are often credited as pioneering innovators of dub. King Tubby was a former sound system operator, but also had a great deal of electronic and studio engineering experience under his belt. He is often credited for his pioneering use of the studio mixing desk as an instrument in its own right. He manipulated tracks to create innovative soundscapes, often drenched with effects like echo, reverb, and delay – and it’s no exaggeration to describe the work of Jamaica’s studio boffins from this period as groundbreaking. The musical foundations they laid down and the studio skills they developed transformed the role of the producer, the studio engineer and the landscape of popular western music.
By the early 1970s, dub reggae had moved from a simple support system producing bespoke material for sound system performances and had solidified as a distinct genre that began to issue singles and then albums dedicated to dub. Keith Hudson released Pick a Dub, which is considered by many to be the first thematic dub album, while King Tubby released At The Grass Roots of Dub and Surrounded by the Dreads at the National Arena.
Typically, dub, during this period, was still largely based on instrumental remixes of pre-existing recordings, with the addition of extensive echo, reverb, delay, the dubbing of new vocals, new instrumental content (often using distinctive instruments such as the Melodica) and various electronic sound effects. This was the golden age of Jamaican dub reggae and I’m very pleased to say it was the much loved ’70s soundtrack for very large parts of both Chas and Ivory’s thoroughly misspent youth.
However, by the mid 1970s, dub had successfully spread beyond its home base of Jamaica, with the UK in particular becoming a significant hub for dub production, and was generating substantial amounts of new and original compositions. Producers and composers such as Mad Professor, Jah Shaka, and Adrian Sherwood, and artists such as Tackhead, Dub Syndicate and African Head Charge, all made significant contributions to the development of the genre and helped to establish dub as a distinct and internationally popular musical genre.
This period also saw dub influencing punk rock, with bands like The Clash regularly collaborating with the likes of Lee “Scratch” Perry and Mikey Dread. Eventually, of course, the mainstream record companies began to sit up and pay attention, and, like all successful organic and/or underground musical genres, dub reggae fell into the hands of the record company machine to become sanitised, commodified and safely packaged for a mainstream, middle-of-the-road audience. To support this accusation, m’Lud, the prosecution presents Exhibit A: the UB40 album Present Arms In Dub, which successfully hit the UK top 40 chart in 1981 – with lashings and lashings of extra cheesy cheese. We most certainly ain’t gonna be posting any of that nonsense here.
The 1980s also marked the start of the digital revolution in music and dub was not excluded from the evolutionary wave of change that swept through the tangled-bank environment of music production. The introduction of drum machines, samplers and synthesizers all rapidly transformed the genre, and although some interesting stuff was produced (and indeed is still being produced) for many, by the mid ’80s, the golden age of dub reggae was over.
Nevertheless, the dub reggae scene continues to this day and the influence of dub’s golden age has proved to be extremely enduring, with many musical genres (e.g. ambient, jungle, house, drum & bass, trip-hop, techno, dub techno, dubstep, etc.) clearly demonstrating their dub reggae influences to a greater or lesser degree. It’s glory day may be over, but its echoey reverberations live on, and on, anon, non, non… And long may that continue.
Anyway, I think that’s probably quite enough of our ragged reggae ramblings for one evening. So we shall wrap things up and leave you with a big ol’ slice of classic dub from the golden age of Jamaican dub reggae.
So, for tonight, Chas & Ivory will bid you all a cheery TTFN, Puffins. May all your passages be salubrious, your gardens inclined and your puddles well jumped.
Goodnight, and may your frog, gog, gog, gog, gog… go with you, u, u, u, u… Not ‘arf!
Featured Image: Alecstatic, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons
© Chastity Bumgardener & Ivory Cutlery 2025
