Beenie
Man, Tonto Metro, Davanta, Hungry Mob, DJ Uni-T, DJ Soul
Paradigm
215 SE
9th Ave.,
232-7861
9 pm Saturday,
April 15
$14
advance, $16 door
Exodus
1201
1201 SW
12th Ave.,
225-1201
Fridays
Cover
Red Sea often
features reggae music.
3218 SW
3rd Ave.,
241-5450
Song of the
week:
"Triple Threat," by Nas, with Nature and Noreaga. This
track shows why Nas has been one of hip-hop's supreme lyricists
since '91.
Too bad more Jamaicans don't live in Portland. The City
of Roses could use some Caribbean spice. Jerk chicken shacks,
serving up plantain, curry goat and sweet rolls, would line
the streets; the air would be thick with the wonderful Jamaican
patois, a dialect that demands a very attentive ear. Natty
dreads would share knowledge on street corners, and the
rude bwoys would stir up a little excitement with
rambunctious behavior.
Best of all, maybe, people would become familiar with dancehall.
Dancehall reggae and hip-hop are close kin, both tracing
their roots to early days when Jamaican DJs would set up
their systems and battle for supremacy. And as with its
American cousin, critics claim that dancehall's lyrics glorify
the drug trade, incite riots and encourage homophobia. Although
these points will always be up for debate, you can't deny
that both art forms feature MCs ripping up bass-heavy beats
with ghetto tales, rousing crowds into a frenzy.
Dancehall, however, does strike the lusty chord
in the body just a lil' more than hip-hop. Back East, especially
in New York, the music receives just as much rotation as
hip-hop in the clubs, and pushes dancing to another sexual
level entirely. Girls do more than just back that ass up.
Booties jiggle and wiggle in unimaginable ways, bringing
fellas' natures to a boiling point. The real get-down occurs
at house parties, where DJs spin under red lights in back
yards, food and drink never end and folks heat up the air
with the friction of grinding hips.
But, as we all know, Portland's quite a bit different from
the streets of Brooklyn, where a dancehall mix tape is easily
copped. Anyone interested in the Jamaican flavor is in for
a search. Fortunately, some stores--primarily 2nd Avenue
Records--have a nice collection of reggae material to sort
through. And luckily, some cats behind the turntables put
it down for the people's pleasure. Kool DJ Mello Cee incorporates
Jamaican music into his sets; DJ Uni-T spins nothing but
dancehall when he's on the one and two.
The biggest push to bring dancehall to Portland has come
courtesy of Direct Productions. It's not unusual to walk
into the crew's Friday night engagements at the 1201 and
hear reggae thumping through the speakers, causing the tightly
packed floor to go into a carnal sway.
More importantly, DP books dancehall artists to rock Portland
clubs. While you don't hear the music on commercial radio,
Jamaican MCs often have mad underground fame in the States
and can draw surprising crowds. Like his predecessors Shabba
Ranks, Cutty Ranks and Buju Banton, Beenie Man--reputedly
the world's most popular reggae artist right now--has planted
himself firmly beneath the surface.
This week, Direct Productions brings the dancehall general
for a second visit to Portland. If he sticks to his steelo,
it's guaranteed to be a wild night at the Paradigm this
Saturday. The air will no doubt be filled with smoke, and
those who know will be lickin' shots--"buck, buck, buck!"--into
it.
In other words, you might not want to miss this rowdy night,
bwoy
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Willamette Week | originally
published April 12,
2000
|
