Ranking Slackness

This post is a direct response to Lord a Mercy who commented on a previous post (HERE) by saying the following:

This continual denigration of modern dancehall as being “little more” than homophobia/misogyny is a little tiring. Move beyond the stereotype, stop fetishising (sic) old reggae, and get hip to the new sounds.

Initially, I simply dismissed this seeing as really anything I write here is only an opinion. And those that disagree are more than entitled to believe and express their own thoughts. I do appreciate folks commenting here and I hope that a genuine dialogue results.

That being said, stereotypes come, in part at least, from reality. There, of course, is no way to say that an entire genre does one singular thing. And in my titling that previous piece “Dancehall That Doesn’t Suck,” I intended for it to be taken lightly and on jocular terms. But after I began to rethink all of this, why would a stereo type such as this (dancehall relating a sort of sexual deviance) so persist?

Perhaps one of the most commercially viable dancehall toasters of the recent past was/is Buju Banton. But amidst his ascension, he let fly a bit too much of his thoughts on homosexuals, thusly blunting his success. He did, however, contribute to a 1997 Rancid album to good affect. Again, relegating this performer to the sidelines based upon his personal beliefs is ostensibly an act of the record industry, who quickly saw the problems resultant in pushing his work in the UK and the States.

Banton, though, doesn’t represent all of the genre. But in perusing the internets, a disc from Ranking Slackness (aka General Echo) caught my eye. His 1979 album Slackness, which was released at roughly the same time as the albums I mentioned in that previous dancehall post, sports a title pretty indicative of its contents.

The term slackness refers directly to the debauched views of this toaster – or at least the stories he relates. Of course, if an artist is able to release a work that is relatively disrespectful to woman, sell a few copies and have a decent career, no one should gripe too much. The production on this disc, assisted by Winston Riley, is steeped in classic ‘70s rhythms. And really, much of what I personally have a distaste for in more modern reggae and dancehall is the music. But much in the same way that I find it difficult to listen to rappers speak on topics I can’t relate to, I find very little satisfaction in hearing lines like “Pack up your pussy/Pull your dress aside” – and I apologize if I’ve misrepresented a word, but my interpretations of that patois is a bit weak.

Anyway, it’s easy to pick apart a work and find specific sentiments I can take issue with. But it is just as unfair to figure that lauding classic sounds, in anyway, diminishes new work. This aforementioned comment from Lord a Mercy could work just as well if it were inverted and read something to the affect of “Learn your roots and get hip to the true sound.”