It's nice to see that a lot of people still have respect for the classics, especially in reggae music.
Since the '80s, reggae artists have increasingly embraced dancehall rhythms (or riddims) - highly synthesized dance sounds interspersed with fast-paced, sing-speak vocals that are nearly rapped. And while some are delighting in the innovations Yellowman, U-Roy and Shinehead are making in the new musical genre, some of us prefer the classics - the crooned melodic reggae path that Bob Marley blazed and others have followed.Friday night's Worldbeat '92 stop allowed Salt Lake crowds to get their best shot this year to see some of the classics live, especially performances by true Jamaicans Jimmy Cliff and Burning Spear (Winston Rodney), two of reggae's longest survivors in the classic style.
Cliff, in particular, has been around since reggae's initial worldwide explosion (having been brought to fame as a "rudeboy" in the film "The Harder They Fall"). But for a 20-year-plus musical veteran, Cliff sure has a lot of energy left.
In fact, during most of his headlining set, Cliff shook and shimmied harder than most of the large (and surprisingly youngish) crowd. And he simply delighted the many packing the Triad Center Amphitheater's dance space, on the strength of the rootsy "Father Africa, Mother Africa," the smoothly harmonic "Treat You Like" and the soulful show-stopper "Many Rivers to Cross" (easily erasing UB40's stultifyingly dull cover that many are familiar with).
Even if Cliff did have a misstep or two (in particular, the nightmarish "Take On"), he still proved that the old still can teach the young.
Burning Spear also packed the amphitheater's dance space, with his surprisingly horn-heavy numbers that recall the best material from the Skatalites (pioneers in the early ska scene - a forbearer of reggae).
Spear's (or Rodney's, who can blame him for changing that name?) throaty vocals were in good form, serving as a dark and flavorful molasses to Cliff's sweet-as-honey tenor. Among the delights in Spear's set were "I Will Call," "Let's Recall," "Mek We Dweet" and "Say What We Want to Say."
But perhaps Spear's best was "Slavery Day," a searing reminder of one of the country's most ignominious indignities, which further proved that of all musical genres, reggae is perhaps best equipped to address political injustices.
Speaking of those injustices, Nigeria's Majek Fashek perhaps had the worst time of it. The promising opener (who sings in a charmingly Marley-esque fashion) was unable to bring some of his support band, "The Prisoners of Conscience," with him on tour because of the U.S. Labor Department's ridiculous new and restrictive foreign-labor laws, passed by legislators because they fear that foreign competition might outshine U.S. musical artists. And with the stagnancy and lack of originality in most U.S. music (especially the pop genre), who can blame them?
Fashek was also largely (and unfairly) ignored by a good portion of the full house, despite rousing versions of "Majek Fashek in New York," "So Long" and an all-to-brief rendition of his wonderful "Send Down the Rain."
However, I'll give the crowd credit for proving two points - that multiethnic and multiracial crowds can still get along (despite the recent L.A. riots) and that recent Salt Lake restrictions on general admission concerts are fool-ish, at least for crowds sized under 2,000.