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Linton Kwesi Johnson
Live in Paris
(Wrasse)
First Appeared in The Music Box, January 2005, Volume 12, #1
Written by Douglas Heselgrave
I must be showing my age. Every decade has its defining music, its songs that
will stand the test of time, but the more that I listen to most of today’s
sounds, the more that I’m convinced that the late 1970s was a far better era,
one that was full of fresh and exciting ideas. Between 1978 and 1980, there was
such an embarrassment of riches that every week seemed to bring forth a new
masterpiece that challenged all that had gone before it. For me, most of the
best music of this time came from England: The Clash, The Jam, The Buzzcocks.
Even the first few albums from the Police and Dire Straits had something magical
and special about them. At the time, I was a teenager, and like many, what was
on my record player defined and articulated all that I was feeling. Music is
powerful, and it has the ability to evoke emotional experiences that otherwise
elude expression. So, in reviewing Linton Kwesi Johnson’s latest endeavor Live in Paris, which is available on both CD and DVD, I can’t even pretend
to be objective. Of all the music of the late ’70s British renaissance, no
performer affected me more than Linton Kwesi Johnson. The first time I heard
him, the manner in which I listened to music was changed forever.
It was 1980, and I was 17 years old, sitting in my friend Ian’s basement, and
listening to the Stranglers. After several repetitions of the same disc, I was
trying, however subtly, to nudge the record off the turntable so I could hear Survival, Bob Marley’s then-current album. Ian and I were at a bit of a
musical impasse when our neighbor, Taylor "the Disgruntled," came into the house
and showed us the slab of vinyl that he had just bought. It was an imported copy
of Forces of Victory, Johnson’s sophomore effort. It was strange,
different, and wholly compelling. The rhythm and cadence of his singing was
every bit as unique as Bob Dylan’s vocal phrasing must have been to his fans in
1966, and the music, with its heavy bass, scattered keyboards, and emphatic
horns, put me in another universe.
I wasn’t unfamiliar with reggae. I loved Bob Marley, Toots and the Maytals,
and Jimmy Cliff, but the tales that they told and the music that delivered them
were mythic and seemed to happen in some kind of removed Biblical plane of
tropical landscapes and saints in the hills. Johnson’s was an urban music, a
dispossessed and radical voice demanding change and justice; it appealed to
human logic and decency rather than a higher power or distant Zion. There was
something about his songs that was more disturbing and radical than anything I’d
ever heard.
Furtively smoking weed in our safe, middle-class neighborhood basements,
songs like Sonny’s Lettah (which recently was quoted by David Bowie as
being one of the best songs of the 20th century) were messages from
another world where everything seemed immediate, real, and dangerous. Before
hip-hop was used to sell everything from cars to Coca Cola, Johnson delivered
un-sponsored truths from a world where life and death decisions were made, from
a place where safety and peace were enjoyed briefly at a blues dance on a
Saturday night only to be snatched away suddenly as the police smashed down the
door.
England in 1978 was bursting at the seams. Punk music articulated the white,
working class disaffection with the Queen and tradition, and Johnson came along
with Dread, Beat, an’ Blood to describe the immigrant experience in
post-colonial London. At the time, his voice and music were a revelation, and
his debut was greeted with almost unanimously positive reviews. Johnson nailed
the black immigrant world view in a way that was brash, uncompromising, and totally unique, and his fusion of dub poetry and reggae
music was a completely new sound. When I spoke to Johnson on the phone last
year, he was reluctant to take any credit for influencing today’s performers,
although he is obviously pleased with the tributes that many artists have paid
to him. "I don’t take any credit at all, but quite a few people have said I’ve
influenced them," he explained. "I’m happy to hear that I’ve had an effect on
other people. There’s a woman in this country called Dido who’s quite big, and
she said she used to listen to me when she was younger. Stuff like that I’m
quite flattered to hear. But, the people who really influenced rap are people
like James Brown and the Last Poets."
If Johnson prefers to be modest about his influence, his slow but steady
string of albums over the past 25 years speak for themselves. Forces of
Victory (1980) and Making History (1984) still rank among the best
political records ever released — you can dance to them, too! — and they manage
to avoid the pitfalls of most topical music by discussing particular issues in a
way that is both universal and timeless. More recent outings, such as 1991’s Tings an’ Times and 1999’s More Time, remain both musically
challenging — when was the last time a violin was used as a lead instrument in
dub music? — and reveal the careful work of an artist who has continued to
develop his craft at a pace that suits him.
For me, listening to the new CD and watching the new DVD, both of which are
titled Live in Paris, is like the best kind of reunion with an old
friend, one where the trepidation and questions about whether your friend will
have changed, mellowed, or sold out are all dispelled within a moment of
meeting. Backed up by his long-time musical director Dennis Bovell, Johnson is
in fine form in this film and recording, which documents his 25th
anniversary concert in Paris in 2003. He treats his older songs with respect and
carefully places each within its cultural and historical context. He needn’t
have done that, though. Chillingly, songs like Di Eagle an’ Di Bear and
Want Fi Goh Rave are every bit as powerful and relevant as they were in
the late ’70s.
There is an unspoken irony in Johnson’s delivery that suggests that history
has taught us nothing, and he counters that with the notion that it is the duty
of the thinking person to "stick to his guns" and rail against the darkening
night. Indeed, he is a veteran artist who has remained dignified and alert in a
world that seems to get dumber every day. If some of the brashness and youthful
anger of his early work has subsided, it has been replaced by a more optimistic,
if no less insistent humanism. The characters in his songs are still politically
engaged, but they are wiser, reflecting the lessons of lives fully lived. When a
character in a song wants more time to enjoy life, he is not driven by hollow
complaints reflecting a lack of experience. Johnson’s perspective takes into
consideration the daily struggle of those who care enough about the world to
make it a better place, and he stands up for those who return time and again to
take a fresh set of blows from the faceless forces of persecution and
dehumanization. Idealism has been tempered by loss, renewal, and faith in the
ability to continue to survive in the face of adversity. There is no concession
to defeat in his material. There are no losers.
In essence, Linton Kwesi Johnson’s songs are gifts to the human race. Along
with artists as diverse as Bob Dylan, Joni Mitchell, and Miles Davis, he shows
us that it is possible to continue to live and perform with dignity in a world
and a music business that often seem to have none. His albums are essential,
regardless of color, creed, or class. Find one of his discs. Listen carefully.
You’ll feel better about your life, your world, and your place within it. 
Douglas Heselgrave is a freelance writer, living in
Vancouver. His previous contributions to The Music Box
include interviews with the Grateful Dead's
Mickey Hart and Po' Girl's Trish Klein.
Live in Paris (CD) is available
from Amazon.com. To order, Click Here!
For Canadian orders, please
Click Here!
For UK orders, please
Click Here!
Live in Paris (DVD) is available
from Amazon.com. To order, Click Here!
For Canadian orders, please
Click Here!
This DVD is not available in the UK.
Ratings
1 Star: Pitiful
2 Stars: Listenable
3 Stars: Respectable
4 Stars: Excellent
5 Stars: Can't Live Without It!!
Copyright © 2005
The Music Box
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