Errol Dunkley: Moving...
The best music has the ability to remind listeners of a time, place or situation.
I began writing about music almost seven years ago. And at the dawning of all of this I was able to obtain a buncha stuff from the Moll Selekta imprint. The label, which deals (or dealt seeing as their website doesn’t seem to be updated all too frequently) mostly with vintage rock steady, dance hall and dub, was in the throws of quickly releasing a number of works.
In just about a single year, I received Lee Perry’s Panic in Babylon, Mike Brooks’ The Earth is the Fullness and a compilation entitled The Bunny Lee Rocksteady Years. That last disc was made up of singles from folks that weren’t readily familiar to myself – or anyone I knew. A few different cuts warranted repeated listens. Most notable, though, was a track by Errol Dunkley called “King and Queen.”
The track was a mid tempo love song that owed its success as much to the singer as the production. But the chorus, regarding how that King needs his Queen, for whatever reason, soon became a personal favorite. And because of the affection that I held for it, the song sound tracked a good number of events in my life – most memorable being a trip back from some local public park.
Personal reminiscing aside, Errol Dunkley means more to the world than just a trip to the park. Beginning his career during the early ‘60s found a young Dunkley singing alongside some of JA’s most famous crooners – Roy Shirley for one.
A few years on, after the fortuitous recording with Bunny Lee, Dunkley wound up working out a number of full lengths before the end of the ‘70s. Along the way, the singer formed a partnership with Gregory Isaacs and founded the African Museum imprint.
With his alto vocals floating just above the click clack of the rhythm track, Dunkley carved out a small niche in the JA music scene, apart from heading up that label, before high tailing it to the UK in 1973. After arriving on that other island, Dunkley set about putting together some singles, including a cover of “OK Fred,” originally recorded by John Holt. The track just missed the top ten, but served to embolden the singer who included the hit on his 1980 album released as either Profile Of Errol Dunkley or OK Fred to take advantage of Dunkley’s recent hit.
For an album propped up by a cover, the disc is actually a surprising career highlight for the singer. “Rush Me No Badness” makes use of a sparse backing track and some hand drumming to good affect. The song, obviously focused upon living well, comes off as something of a spate of recommendations from the singer. He just doesn’t want to deal with nonsense. It sounds about right. And while Profile Of Errol Dunkley wouldn’t end up being the final entry into Dunkely’s discography, the singer wouldn’t again find the same sort of acclaim he did with this recording.

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