Reggae's influence can be heard in the popular music of nations in a variety of continents. In Dubwise, Klive Walker takes a fresh look at Bob Marley's global impact, specifically his legacy in the Caribbean diaspora. While considering Marley's status as an international reggae icon, Walker also discusses the vital contributions to reggae culture authored by other important Jamaican innovators such as poet Louise Bennett, hand drummer Oswald "Count Ossie" Williams, jazz saxophonist Joe Harriott, ska trombonist Don Drummond and singer Dennis Brown. The history of women in reggae, ignored for far too long, is addressed in a groundbreaking essay. Walker describes how the work of artists such as producer Sonia Pottinger and singer-songwriters Marcia Griffiths and Judy Mowatt is crucial to reggae culture. Walker treats the reggae crafted by American, British and Canadian artists of Caribbean heritage with the importance it deserves. One Dubwise essay considers the innovative reggae of U.K. roots bands such as Aswad and Steel Pulse and Jamaican-American deejay / rappers Shinehead and Sister Carol. Another discusses, for the first time, the history of reggae in Canada, featuring the work of dub poet Lillian Allen and the band Truths and Rights. An essay addressing reggae's relationship to hip-hop weaves together histories of dancehall deejays and hip-hop MCs as it features the rise of raggamuffin rap, a Caribbean diasporic phenomenon.
The book is a good accompaniment to the wealth of other texts on reggae in Jamaica in that it sheds light on some topics not often covered in depth in other texts, such as: Jazz/Ska intersections, contributions of women, more insight into the life and accomplishment of Don Drummond, diasporic influences of reggae in Canada and the UK, and the fluidity between dancehall/reggae and hiphop in the 80's/90's. In fact, the chapter on the dancehall and hip-hop was for me the highlight of the text, running down many of the players and their connections from local sound systems to collaborations across genres.
The BAD:
The title is a total misnomer, there is little to no discussion of dub in the "version" music sense, there is some focus on a dub "mentality" regarding dub poetry, but even that is cursory in many ways. All the chapters are all over the place, some of the chapters are more signifying players and their tracks more than putting them in any novel or meaningful context. Lastly, the well-meaning inclusion of Don Drummond's history is beat to death in constant repetition and insistence that he is the single most overlooked artist of Jamaican music, makes the reader feel like there are surely other stories just as compelling and Don D's is only focused on because that's Walker's inside track. Which would be entirely legitimate, if Walker kicked the superlatives and just owned his agenda.
The UGLY:
Walker's whole thesis revolves around his insider perspective, which although seemingly legitimate, occludes so much of the text proving how much more authentic his viewpoint is that he misses the actual passion that would make the material approachable. His whole last chapter, which had the promise of being an opportunity to review other writer's approach to similar topics and expand the dialogue on diasporic reggae he begins earlier in the text, just ends up being a chopping contest where he attacks the "outsider" status of others who have written on the other various aspects of reggae history. It leaves a bitter taste at the end of the book, and stinks a bit of the older b-boy who just spits vitriol to the up and comers learning the craft, instead of encouraging more creation in the craft.
The author is quick to put down other writers as outsiders, frequently writes about reggae as if its history revolved around him, and repeatedly assigns diasporic status and value in utterly arbitrary fashion. He contends that he's the first writer to "treat reggae and ska of the diaspora with the respect they deserve," the first to "seriously consider women's contribution [sic] to roots reggae," and actually asserts that he's breaking new ground by "discussing the influence of roots reggae singer Dennis Brown." He's constantly flashing his Jamdown cred with cringe-inducing, italicized repetition of "bwoy," "bredren," blah, blah, blah.
The book is polluted with factual errors (repeatedly referring to African as a language), appalling grammar, embarrassing purple prose (e.g., on Bob Marley playing soccer: "As gravity pulls the ball downward, his ripe-plantain-coloured forehead meets the ball." It gets worse.), ghastly mixed metaphors (Walker calls Trench Town "the urban bowel that nurtured Marley"), outrageous misspellings, and paragraphs upon paragraphs of sub-trivial nonsense, as if trying to fill up an undergrad blue book without having paid much attention in class.
In case the author or publisher is reading this, I'll gladly send you my copy, with edits. You might have the skeleton to a rudimentary introduction to Jamaican music and its African, American, British and Canadian cultural tributaries.
(As at least one other reader has noted, there's no new or particularly informative material here about dub.)
I really disliked this book. I couldn't finish it; the writing was too poor. Which makes me sad, because I'm very interested in the topic and there's not nearly enough written about the amazing & heroic world of Jamaican pop music. I kept feeling like I was reading an essay someone wrote for an undergraduate class. Disorganized, repetitive, and suffering from an attempt to sound academic without the actual depth of ideas, this could have been a trim and informative history-- instead it devolves too often into soggy attempts to describe the sounds of the author's favorite songs. Which, as everyone knows, is like dancing about architecture.