Linton Kwesi Johnson Overview

Stokley Carmichael once said, "Everything is political." Apparently, poet Linton Kwesi Johnson agrees. The sound of his voice stays low and docile, as the humming of dub beats in the background lends a trance-like mood. But his are not calm words.... [more]

Stokley Carmichael once said, "Everything is political." Apparently, poet Linton Kwesi Johnson agrees. The sound of his voice stays low and docile, as the humming of dub beats in the background lends a trance-like mood. But his are not calm words. The wrath of a gentle tiger broils in his laments against racist oppression and demands for justice. This is the voice of an angry man, a political animal who extends a strong message over the supple tones of reggae. Johnson, who was born in Jamaica and bred in Britain, began his vocal revolution in the early 1970s when he discovered the writings of W.E.B. Du Bois and got involved with the Black Panthers. He was upset by the treatment of black citizens in England and began writing poetry to express his outrage. But he soon embarked on a more exciting creative odyssey when he set his poems to music and originated what is now coined the "dub poetry" movement. Over the sounds of intoxicating reggae drumbeats and jazzy melodic guitar solos, Kwesi recites poetic chants for liberation, organization, and power. Johnson's verses, so musical in nature and raw in content, mix well with the subdued but defined sound of dub. He insists that the collaboration happened by chance: "People kept telling me my poems were rhythmic and musical. They always suggested I should put it to music and I was inspired by the idea of using words and percussion." Bob Marley had already popularized political Jamaican music in the public's consciousness, but Johnson gave it a new tone. Here, the languid vibe of spoken words takes precedence over catchy hooks. Linton Kwesi Johnson is not a musician in the usual sense of the word -- he is a poet who infuses his words with Jamaica's musical heritage. Culture winds its way through his work in a multitude of ways. Even his use of Jamaican vernacular becomes a kind of razor-sharp cultural sing-along. His song "Mi Revalueshanary Fren" (from the 1991 album "Tings An' Times") depicts this play of phonetics, poetry, and sound: "fram di masses shata silence- staat fi grumble-fram pawty paramoncy tek a tumble." Johnson is a "revolutionary friend" indeed. [show less]