And why not? Dancehall and hip-hop are practically brothers - they're
around the same age and they even share Caribbean roots via some of
hip-hop's most ! well-known progenitors, including Kool Herc, a Jamaican who's widely considered to be the father of hip-hop. Having made the rap-to-rude-boy transition, Paul is a direct beneficiary of the
island-meets-borough exposure and thus a perfect candidate for
international ambassadorship.
Paul's "Get Busy," his swelteringly sexy ode to the ladies, is
currently fighting over the top slot on the Billboard Hot 100 with rap megastar 50 Cent's "21 Questions" - a testament to the similarities between the two genres and their appeal.
"It's urban street music - it's the same feel, the same thing [as
hip-hop]," the cornrowed vocalist said proudly of dancehall's most
recent foray into the pop market. "It just feels good that [dancehall]
is finally being recognized."
"Hip-hop started in the Bronx, with Jamaican DJs toasting over records and MCs," explained Def Jam General Manager Randy Acker, who is helping put together the label! 's first compilation of collaborations between well-known ! dancehall and rap acts, Red Star Sounds, Vol. 3: Def Jamaica. "Both music [genres] are driven by emotions based on struggle and living on the street ... but [many] people in the U.S. don't have the same kind of emotional connection to reggae music. There hasn't been a real crossover cycle for a bunch of different reasons, the language barrier being one."
Case in point: In patois, the words, "Beg yuh carry wan aerated wata fi
mi deh" translates to "Get me a soda, please."
Sean Paul knows all too well how speaking patois can limit an artist's ability to attract U.S. audiences.Having tasted widespread success in
1998 with his first international hit, "Deport Them," Paul saw the
warning signs early - either he'd have to bring fans to his music by
speaking in a way they could identify with, or risk losing them.
"I've been conscious of trying to tone down my accent." "I've been
conscious of trying to to! ne down my accent," he admitted recently
during rehearsals for a show in Manhattan. "It's the same language but just a certain street twang, [which reflects] the whole culture of a country. In my songs I'm trying to express myself in a way that people can understand but still be hardcore. 'Get Busy' is a hip-hop term. For me
[to use that term] paid off because [the song reached #1]." If Paul is
taking any aspects of his moment in the sun for granted, he's certainly
not showing it. Though fingering a huge platinum and diamond "SP"
medallion, he appeared humble, readily conceding that there were many dancehall artists before him and Wayne Wonder (with whom he performed recently on "Saturday Night Live") worthy of making it big in the States. He attributes his success to the mastering of a certain musicalformula and by sticking with authentic dancehall producers from
Jamaica.
"In Jamaica they were like, 'What's happeni! ng with those artists?'" "Super Cat, Shabba Ranks, Beenie ! Man, so many artists," he said, referring to the flash-in-the-pan syndrome suffered by most of
his dancehall predecessors. "Basically what happened [to those guys] was a lot of companies put money into dancehall music without knowing how to market [them]. And [they] put them with singles and R&B stuff. They immediately lost the base crowd and - pfft! - in Jamaica they were like, 'What's happening with those artists?' My theory was that if I did [my music] straight from home, supporting my own production, my own people and that kind of thing, by the time it reached [the U.S.] everybody would be on it and would say, 'Yeah, that's ground stuff. That's home.'
Far from being a new phenomenon, dancehall has been bubbling under the surface of the American music mainstream for two decades. It enjoyed bursts of success in the early '90s with artists like the ones Paul listed, and more recently it's been gearing up for a comeback ! on the heels of Shaggy's 2000 album, Hot Shot, which sold 10 million copies in the U.S., the first dancehall record to do so. Now a salacious hybrid of reggae and rap, clearly built for the youth and a far cry from Bob
Marley's '70s roots heyday, is going pop all around the globe. After 20
years, why now? "It was an issue of timing," said Christy Barber,
president of the U.S.-based Tuff Gong/Ghetto Use Records, the label
home of reggae prophet Marley and his son Ziggy. Having worked with a wide range of dancehall artists over the past 11 years - Super Cat, Ini
Kamoze and Mad Cobra among them - she's assisting Def Jam in putting together its groundbreaking Def Jamaica project, which will feature Method Man and Redman on a song with Stephen and Damian Marley, Capone-N-Noreaga on songs with Wayne Wonder and Lexxus, and Cam'ron with Buju Banton, among others.
"In the '90s it was hip-hop's time to cross over into popular ! music
and become mainstream. In order to make dancehal! l popular [at that time], we had to use hip-hop beats. [1992's] 'Dolly My Baby' by Super Cat is a good example. For it to cross over, it became the first track ever that Puffy and Biggie rapped on, and Mary J. Blige sang the hook. Now that
hip-hop has established itself [in the American mainstream], there's a
good chance for dancehall to survive on its own." But while everything's
looking up for Paul in the States, back home a lot of people aren't
showing dancehall's biggest international don the love he's grown
accustomed to overseas. In what has become a classic side effect of any hometown boy done good, Sean Paul's been feeling a backlash - in this case over Jamaica's indigenous music being mass-marketed overseas, with some hurling the term "pop" at him like it's a curse word, making him feel what Puffy meant by "Mo' money, mo' problems."
"No one can tell me that my sound is not the original thing.""It don't r! eally matter to me, you know why? Pop means popular," he said
passionately. "I speak from the heart. I'm still in Jamaica and nobody
can move me from there. No one can tell me that my sound is not the
original thing. I go and seek out the hot riddims that are playing in
the ghetto, in the dance, where people are. Dancehall is pop right now, in terms of me and Wayne Wonder. There's a lot of other stuff out there that we contribute to and that we do hold down, and there's nothing pop about that." Shaggy concurred and said that he, like Sean Paul, has received his fair share of flack from people back home for his
light-skinned, pretty boy looks and his middle- to upper-class roots,
but mostly because he's a Jamaican who was raised in Brooklyn.
"There's a lack of support from labels and [a lack] of professionalism
from artists in Jamaica," Shaggy said, explaining why some people
choose to seek a U.S. label deal versus relying on! Jamaica's limited music industry resources. "Sean is the ! second dancehall artist to ever go #1 with a single. I actually had the first #1 with 'It Wasn't Me.' [We're]
just opening the doors so [other dancehall artists] can make it."
While this might be the true, there is a difference between the brand
of dancehall that is popular in Jamaica now versus what gets the most airplay in the Londons, New Yorks and Tokyos of the world.
Pumping in venues like Kingston's popular Club 39 are artists such as
Sizzla, Buju Banton, Elephant Man, Capleton and Bounty Killer (who made a controversial guest appearance on No Doubt's 2001 Rock Steady hit "Hey
Baby"), who are known for their condemnation of lascivious lifestyles
and adoption of more spiritual and political matters.
"There are many different styles of reggae music, even within thedancehall genre," explained Rob Kenner, Vibe magazine editor at large and author of the monthly reggae column Boomshots. "Wayne Wonder occupie's the position of an Usher or R. Kelly, he's known for love
songs. Bounty Killer is like a Snoop or an Ice Cube, best known for
gunman lyrics and 'reality tunes' that describe life in the ghetto.
Sean Paul and Beenie Man might be compared to a Nelly or Jay-Z, specializing in fun party records, often directed at the ladies in the place. Sizzla and Capleton would be comparable to a Dead Prez or a Tupac. [As far as their popularity goes], dancehall trends move so fast that if you are not in the dances and the studios from week to week, it's easy to lose the pulse of what's going on."
Ziggy Marley, who doesn't like to classify himself within the different
variations of reggae, added, "The trend in radio and the popularity
right now has nothing to do with lyrics of any importance. It's about
... 'Oh, let's party. Let's go to the club. Let's drink, buy a car, buy
the rims.' For some people the music is a business. I see music for theart." While Sean Paul doesn't, by any stretch of th! e imagination, represent the entire future of reggae music in the U.S. - roots reggae groups like Morgan Heritage resonate with college-age pop-punk fans, as evidenced by
their recent Vans Warped Tour collaborations with bands like Good
Charlotte and New Found Glory - he's taking seriously the
responsibility of being dancehall's current go-to guy. "I'm doing my homework," he said. "I'm working with Jamaican producers
like Tony Kelly and Steely & Clevie. The first two albums were all done
in Jamaica, except for [songs] with Tony Touch and Rahzel. Work like
that will be done here, but the groundwork will be done at home, I'm proud to say."
And with new deals in the works for Super Cat (he was recently signed
to the Neptunes' Star Trak label) and negotiations under way for a
possible label deal between hip-hop producer Swizz Beatz and Bounty Killer,Paul's hoping it won't be long until some of his Jamaica! n brethren join him on the charts.
