Defining music genres, whether it’s as a part of JA’s music culture or otherwise, presents a spate of problems. Does time play a role? Or the players involved? What if two disparate aspects of a music come together in a single place seemingly creating a new music? What then?

Regardless of the answer to any of those questions, Prince Far I (bka Michael James Williams) didn’t think that he was a deejay or a toaster. Instead, he fancied himself a chanter. That’s actually a pretty adept summation of his style. Prince Far I certainly didn’t sing.

But in his approach on the mic, he was able to presage rap stuffs alongside his brethren in the Last Poets, who were almost treading the same ground in the States, albeit accompanied by more jazz based tracks then what’s found in Prince Far I’s discography.

Even as early career missteps kept the vocalist (?) from wide spread acclaim, Prince Far I’s work as a bouncer and THE muscle across the island got him a foot in the door, as it were. Eventually granted a chance to get in the studio because of another singer’s absence, the Prince Far I’s first efforts apparently fell flat. Luckily, he was persistent. And over the course of his truncated career was a part of well over twenty albums.

The easiest comparison to draw would be to a figure active a bit latter than when Prince Far I began. The political polemics of England’s Linton Kwesi Johnson seem closest. But while that Brit focused on political problems, Prince Far I spoke on topics that included religion as well. Being a Rastafarian, obviously, influences many of JA musics major players and this gentleman was no different.

On his 1981 disc Livity, Prince Far I gets into some biblical territory with “King of King” and “River Jordan.” But he also makes a plea for help on “Marble Stone” where he requests peace for all his dreadlocks cohort. By the early ‘80s, it seems that the promises of freed nation had all but fallen away. There was as much rampant hunger and poverty as there was under British rule. And with rising tides of violence – perhaps perpetuated by some of the music being released at the time – there didn’t seem to be too much else to do other than to ask for help.

And while Livity, for the most part, maintains the musical legacy that Prince Far I set up for himself – his death in 1983 at the hands of a burglar – there are some doubtful moments at the outset. “Reggae Music Moving” makes use of some really questionable guitar sounds even as Prince Far I sounds on top of his game alongside whoever gets on the hook. And while the sentiment being expressed - that reggae makes all involved wanna dance – that backing track just isn’t up to snuff. When it finally gets dubwise, the party’s on.

Livity, though, is certainly not the place to begin, but not a bad place to explore once listeners get their fair share of his other works.