Un-credited on a number of Studio One recordings, Ras Michael influenced the culture as well as the music of JA. Reggae was and always will be a music tied to some beautifully bucolic hinterland of that island nation. The drumming associated with it – and some of the genre’s principal percussionists – seems to only be able to stem from the surrounding hills and streams that eventually role out into the Carribean. Of course an overt religious bent to reggae music is omnipresent, but in that, the unification of the spirit and the resultant music are achieved.

Remaining an ardent follower of this music and his religion, today Ras Michael finds himself a California resident even as he continually travels to perform and lend a hand when at all possible. His charitable habits are well documented, having performed at a number of international benefits including Reggae 4 Africa. But as devout a proponent of Rastafari as Ras Michael is, he has seen fit to dispense not just a spiritual consciousness, but one that’s tied to his music. The approach might not gain new religious adherents, but it’s a two for one deal – and there aren’t too many things better than that.

Over his career, Ras Micheal has led as many dates with his Sons of Negus ensemble as he’s worked as a session player. And while the most integral releases of his career are behind him, each continues to carry a hefty weight around with it. An early offering from the ‘70s, Peace & Love, which the percussionist recorded under his pseudonym Dadawah, is considered by some to have announced the development of roots as a caveat in the reggae genre. But regardless of that claim’s credence, Ras Michael’s following Rastafari ratcheted up the religiosity. It’s the gospel of a relatively new religion, but set down fervently and convincingly. And because of the time in which it was recorded – the early ‘70s – the resultant versions of the disc weren’t too far behind.

Initially released in the States on ROIR, the tape only recording disappeared from shelves for a pretty long time, only recently becoming digital in ’99 - although subsequent issues of the album have kept reggae fans satisfied. The eight tracks that comprise Rastafari Dub aren’t necessarily expansive, nothing really gets too far past the five minute mark. But every instrumental possesses so much open space that at times each song can seem immense.

Even in these reductive cuts, each song retains its sense of urgent politicization. In the song’s titles listeners find a mystic revelation awaiting them. From “Truth and Right” with its hollow guitar chords and chunky clavinet to “Birds in the Tree Top,” anyone privileged enough to get a listen is going to be able to appreciate the investment – not just musically – that went into recording these songs.

Ras Michael rubbed shoulders with world renowned musicians as well as some hefty political figures of his time. And it seems that, somehow, he was able to translate all of it into sound.