The recent reprise of the traditional Jamaican folk classic Hill and Gully Ride by Stephen “Di Genius” McGregor has ignited a firestorm. The rhythm, which has become the latest craze in dancehall circles, is simultaneously being celebrated as evidence of the renewed vitality of the genre and condemned as proof of the decadence which currently informs our cultural production.

There had been growing concerns that dancehall had fallen into a trap (pun intended). Critics lamented that the genre which once produced global icons and hits had gone into a creative funk. Many were resigning themselves to the idea that the offshoots and derivatives of Jamaican music, including reggaeton, Afrobeats, and hip hop, had irreversibly eclipsed the homegrown varieties. Dancehall was history.

Then came the WYFL rhythm from producers DJ Mac and Crash Dummy, followed by the explosive resurgence of Hill and Gully under the direction of Di Genius. Dancehall felt alive again. The streets were buzzing. Social media timelines were flooded with freestyles, and selectors once again felt they had rhythms capable of commanding both the dance floor and the airwaves.

Yet the excitement did not come without controversy.

Many older Jamaicans have reacted with horror on hearing a cherished folk standard being associated with some of the most explicit and “scatological” lyrics imaginable. For them, Hill and Gully Ride is not merely a popular folk song; it is part of the emotional and cultural fabric of Jamaica and critical to their sense of identity.

Hearing a repurposed Hill and Gully Ride being used as the backdrop for “pornographic” lyrical content has forced many of these elders to metaphorically “reach for the antacid”.

Still, the current imbroglio presents an opportunity for us to have an insightful and meaningful trans-generational discussion on the kind of society in which we want to live. The modern reinterpretation of
Hill and Gully could become a catalyst for a meaningful debate about culture, morality, freedom of expression, and parenting in the Digital Age.

Yet there are serious challenges to any effort at promoting a national dialogue on such issues. Self-righteousness has become one of the defining features of modern discourse. We are living in an age when nuance has become endangered and compromise is perceived as a substitute for docility. Extremism is now the default setting. Balance seems reserved only for gymnasts and figure skaters. We are all shouting at each other.

Let us be clear and fair , “slackness” has been with us since the dawn of recorded music. If anyone doubts the accuracy of my observation I would direct you to Lucille Bogan’s Till The Cows Come Home and Shave Em Dry, both of which were released in the 1930s. Bogan’s music would make Spice blush. Yet there is one difference between what prevailed then and what obtains now — access.

It is now very easy for children to find the most obscene content on their electronic devices or from speakers blaring music in their communities. Music is often played in many parts of the island without any regard for the neighbours’ concerns.

Mento could not by any measure be described as sacred. Risqué was the order of the day. However, wit and skill were used to convey sexually and politically sensitive content. Most children and many adults could not easily access lewd material because of the linguistic complexity of the double meanings and metaphors.

The reality is that slackness and sensationalism are now dominating social media, because modern algorithms reward the shocking, the inflammatory, and the grotesque.

However, the question is: How do we meaningfully engage the purveyors of problematic content in a civil debate?

I have long held that framing is an important feature in the art of persuasion. Democracies are primarily predicated on the art of persuasion, not the use of force and intimidation. One widely used approach in behaviour modification is to convince the members of one’s target audience that what they are doing is not only harmful to others but inimical to their own interests.

There is a growing body of evidence suggesting that constant exposure to explicit sexual material may be having a deleterious effect on the sexual performance and psychological well-being of many young men. The phenomenon may be somewhat akin to insulin resistance: Cells exposed to excessive levels of the hormone over prolonged periods gradually stop responding to targeted stimuli.

One wonders whether some analogous psychological processes might not be at play with the hyper-sexualised content we are currently consuming. In an age when explicit imagery and lyrics are consumed continuously, perhaps overstimulation itself is diminishing sensitivity, intimacy, and even drive. Maybe our artistes should pause to determine whether their virality may be negatively affecting their virility.

Addressing the issue of obscenity and vulgarity in our music also includes how we relate to our children. Whenever I suggest to some of my friends that, perhaps, the best antidote to objectionable cultural content is deeper engagement with their children, they often dismiss the idea as an unwillingness on my part to side with them on a controversial issue. Yet the fascinating contradiction of the human condition is that many people are comfortable using force or censorship to bring others in line, while recoiling at the idea of their opponents using a similar tactic against them or their supporters.

We are often eager to change society instead of ourselves. Parents and guardians must help equip their children with the critical thinking skills necessary to navigate an increasingly chaotic cultural landscape. Shielding young people entirely from problematic content is nearly impossible in an era when a smartphone provides unrestricted access to vast archives of explicit and obscene material. What I suspect is needed is inoculation not panic.

I remember my father taking home the Star newspaper every evening except Sundays. Those familiar with the Jamaican Star of the 1970s know that it was considerably more risqué than the current version. The
Star had scantily clad women, sensational divorce proceedings, and stories salacious enough to make even some degenerates blanch. Yet, because I had access to the content openly at home, there was little mystique attached to such publications as Playboy or Hustler. My father was exposing me to problematic content in a controlled environment.

Rather than merely condemn songs containing problematic lyrics, parents might consider listening to them with their children and use them as points of departure for a broader conversation about values, sexuality, respect, art, commerce, and responsibility. Music has always reflected the tensions, contradictions, aspirations, and excesses of society. Let us show our children how to discuss issues in a passionate but civil manner. Children learn what they live.

Clyde McKenzie is a director of Magnificent Ideas and the founding general manager of Reggae Radio, IRIE FM. He is an executive producer of the Grammy-winning album Art and Life (Beenie Man) and a judge for six seasons on Digicel Rising Stars.

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Yet there are serious challenges to any effort at promoting a national dialogue on such issues. Self-righteousness has become one of the defining features of modern discourse. We are living in an age when nuance has become endangered and compromise is perceived as a substitute for docility. Extremism is now the default setting. Balance seems reserved only for gymnasts and figure skaters. We are all shouting at each other

Clyde McKenzie.