Redemption song
Booda Bless gives crunk a conscience with ‘durty reggae’
Usually when reggae hits American shores, it’s wearing hot pants. Or it’s hawking the latest fads in commercials that feed our island dreams. All of that is just another sign of how most contemporary reggae is emotionally detached from the kind of self-determination and spiritual renewal that was so important to the music’s forefathers. But “durty reggae,” an edifying crunk-influenced byproduct helmed by Booda Bless, seems poised to empower listeners in a way that’s comparable to Bob Marley’s One Love Peace Concert circa ‘78.
“This planet is bigger than the United States, and my music reflects the pain and suffering of a world community,” Bless says. “If we gonna get crunk, let’s get serious and create a movement letting freedom ring from the east side to west side. Music is a force that people live by, and I hope to lay down the foundation for people to still get crunk, but also be righteous and upstanding.”
Durty reggae is not just something the ATL-based Bless does; it’s his life’s guiding principle. Just as Ice Cube’s tome Amerikkka’s Most Wanted embodied the frustration of marginalized youth in L.A., Bless speaks to the internal longings of a Southern region slowly turning back the clock to the days of the Confederacy. He does that by taking the sound that Lil Jon made famous and giving it a socially conscious remix, dropping old-school reggae over high-energy beats.
“We decided to flip the crunk sound popular in the South to deliver a message,” says Bless’ producer James Bond, aka Freddie B. “Our goal is to create a musical movement of unification.”
Bless’ dedication to classic reggae, and all the power-to-the-people commitment that comes with it, began during his formative years growing up with a reggae-singing mother who was once signed to Bob Marley’s historic Tuff Gong label. His mom would introduce him to the reigning reggae stars of the day and serve him a steady musical diet of classics like Peter Tosh’s “Rasta Shook Them Up” and Capleton’s “Alms House.” This early training ensured Bless’ rude boy style and his passion for social change.
He’s now become a lifelong activist who’s worked on grassroots projects alongside New Alliance Party founder Fred Newman, his partner Dr. Lenora Fulani, and Al Sharpton. Bless brings the same fighting spirit to his music, even though it puts some listeners off. “America and the South doesn’t always accept roots reggae because of its revolutionary historical background,” Bless says. “A true reggae artist might say anything from ‘screw the police, burn the government, and stand up for your rights.’”
Bless’ political commitment hasn’t won him many favors with the mainstream music industry. A distribution deal with Universal Records, which he describes as “a learning experience,” expired in 2002. But Bless isn’t waiting around. He’s enlisted the support of the reggae label Kings of Kings, home of blazing phenom Genie Slick, to ensure international distribution of his productions, and his reggae remix of 50 Cent’s “In Tha Club” gets play on V-103. All in all, Bless is doing fine on his own, true to reggae’s original do-it-yourself attitude. But still Bless has a message for the labels Disturbing the Peace, J Records, and Interscope: He wouldn’t mind signing a deal.