“To be enamored with that strangeness, that perpetual smoke screen of his, means getting caught in Scratch’s most profound musical trap. His own music could veer towards the nonsensical and ribald, but his greatest productions were also powerful and prophetic, the sound of a real revolutionary embodying the type of Black empowerment and pride.”
As a teenager in South Texas in the early ’90s (ie, before that Grand Royal issue came out and blew everyone’s minds), I came across a copy of Super Ape, having zero knowledge about what reggae was or who this band the Upsetters even were. But it passed the “King Kong with a Tommy Chong spliff” test so I took it home, unprepared for the heavy roots and nyabinghi thunder that awaited me. Decades on, I feel like I’m still learning about Perry’s tireless discography and profound vision. Perhaps the song I’ve returned to most this summer is Junior Byles’ “Curley Locks,” which is mentioned in my Scratch tribute.