Even as Jamaica celebrates February as Reggae Month, one is curious as to why there is not a Dancehall Month. After all, both musical genres can be regarded as fraternal twins, having emerged from the bowels of the Jamaican people.

But, even as Jamaican music aficionados lament the decline in the quality of songs being produced on the reggae front line, there is even greater concern that dancehall has lost its way and may well be a major contributor to the high levels of crime and violence in the Jamaican society, whether wittingly or unwittingly.

In Jamaican parlance, the expression ‘sell off’ refers to any event, idea, or programme that is a resounding success. On the other hand, sell-out describes the heinous act of betrayal to a noble cause in order to gain quick money or fame. Against this background, it is fair to ask: Whither dancehall? Does it still sell off or did most of its current practitioners sell out the popular musical form that has taken the world by storm?

According to one music expert, “Dancehall music, also called ragga or dub, is a style of Jamaican popular music that had its genesis in the political turbulence of the late 1970s and became Jamaica’s dominant music in the 1980s and ’90s. Central to dancehall is the deejay, who raps or toasts over a pre-recorded rhythm track (bass guitar and drums) or dub.”

Early dancehall compositions had impressive lyrical mastery, which covered a wide range of social, cultural, and political issues, influenced by reggae that focused on love, as well as rebellion and revolution against the forces which helped to generate poverty, racism, injustice, and government oppression. It is in this context that reggae icons, such as Bob Marley and Jimmy Cliff, rose to international claim. Of course, the Rastafarian influence played a pivotal role in spreading the universal concept of peace and love.

But, alas, Jamaican dancehall, which initially influenced American hip hop, has made an about-face, moving from wholesome lyrics, for the most part, to gun lyrics and songs laced with expletives, as well as sexually explicit material as Jamaican artistes crossed over to the black American subculture, exemplified by skimpily dressed women with bouncing breasts and men with their underpants on full display while showing their six-packs.

From Boom Bye Bye to Romping Shop, not to mention Lick, dancehall artistes have sold their souls to slackness when not revelling in virulent lyrics that are steeped in the gun culture that is to be found in the ghettos. Indeed, that video being widely circulated of two very young girls singing and acting out the Lick instructions is a not-so-gentle reminder of the increasing decadence now plaguing dancehall.

Yes, it may well be argued that many of these songs simply reflect the reality of their lives, but so does No Woman No Cry and Strength of a Woman.

While it is not prudent for any Government to ban lyrics that promote sexual promiscuity or gun violence as this may well turn out to be a constitutional matter based on the principle of freedom of expression, it behoves the ministry responsible for entertainment, led by the indefatigable Babsy Grange, to come up with programmes and projects that promote good, clean music, which can inspire the youth and help make Jamaica a better place for us all. Frankly, much of what passes as Jamaica’s popular music should be dubbed underground music and treated as such.

Needless to say, one of the main co-conspirators in this degrading descent in dancehall music, apart from the producers who are just looking at their bottom line, is the media, both print and electronic, which have been appealing to the lowest common multiple in order to get high ratings and readership.

Since the legendary Barbara Gloudon allegedly had to part company with a certain afternoon tabloid that had insisted on publishing half-naked women in its centrefold, we are yet to see entertainment writers and purveyors of our popular music taking a stand against music that should not be allowed to see the light of day.

It is also well-known that payola has played a pivotal role in promoting what can truly be described by any self-respecting musician as rubbish. In this vein, the Broadcasting Commission has many times fallen short in carrying out its mandate, in terms of being a watchdog, because what now passes as wholesome content is offensive and undermines the values and attitudes we seek to engender in our society.

Ironically, the National Festival Song Competition has become somewhat of a parody, in that it has so far failed to be a game-changer in the musical industry. Surely the time has come to evaluate its usefulness and relevance to nation-building, especially in this year when we are celebrating Jamaica’s 60th anniversary.

It is no secret that just about every ‘youtman’ and, increasingly, ghetto girl these days are seeking a ‘buss’. In their minds, based on what the market now portends, it is slackness and gun lyrics emboldened by ‘badmanism’ that rule the roost and make them drive a Benz and ‘frass’ (whatever that means).

If this scenario continues unabated, then this country will continue to go down a slippery slope and gradually a descent into the abyss.

In recent times, politicians, the business community, and academia have been pleading with the purveyors of dancehall music to “change di riddim” not just “catch it”.

Influential artistes such as Bounty Killer, Beenie Man, Agent Sasco (formerly Assassin), among others of similar ilk have been fast becoming Saul on the road to Damascus.

In the meantime, once known as the Queen of Slackness, Lady Saw, now Sister Marion, has been seeking to become the conscience of the dancehall cult, especially when it comes to her womenfolk.

Hope springs eternal! The island’s frightening murder rate has been a wake-up call that is beginning to seep into the dancehall culture, so hopefully there will be meaningful and lasting change, but don’t hold your breath because in the minds of so many performers and dancehall hopefuls, it is expedient and more profitable to sell out than to take the high road and sell off. 

Lloyd B Smith has been involved full-time in Jamaican media for the past 45 years. He has also served as a Member of Parliament and Deputy Speaker of the House of Representatives. He hails from western Jamaica where he is popularly known as the Governor. Send comments to the Jamaica Observer or lbsmith4@gmail.com.