Walking around Notting Hill carnival can lead to some fascinating discoveries.  Over the

years thousands of people have been intrigued by the atmosphere created at the

heavyweight roots reggae sound systems like Channel One and Aba Shanti I.  Huge

earth-shaking basslines and a serious, intense mood can at first seem at odds with the

general frivolity of carnival. Added to this is the shock, experienced by a generation raised

on dance DJs, of seeing a rastaman with a single turntable rocking the crowd for a whole

day.


Channel One's legendary selector Mikey Dread settles himself on a speaker box in the

front of his record shop in Stratford and tries to explain.

"A good sound system man can carry the dance alone for five, six or seven hours

with the music that you play and the continuous vibe that you're giving."

He usually leaves the talking to MCs Ras Kayleb and Afrikan Simba but occasionally takes

the mike and you'll recognise the calm, bass boom of a voice with an accent that's a lot more

London than Jamaica.

"There are only three people that do it on that scale, Channel One, Jah Shaka and

Aba Shanti. We're the three who do it continuous on that level. You go into your own little

world."

It's interesting to hear him say this. Shaka and Aba Shanti do have a mysterious, other

worldly appearance and seem to disappear into a spiritual trance amongst the clouds of herb,

whereas the Channel One crew, often described as 'the friendliest sound at carnival', always

seem more approachable; conversing and acknowledging the crowd whilst the music plays. In

fact when asked about the best time for roots reggae in London Mikey, who's been in the  

business since 1973, enthuses about the early eighties and how the sound was able to reach new audiences.

"Apart from Bob Marley, the only time some people got to hear reggae music was

in universities, so we started to get ourselves in with student unions. You could be in one

room and they'd have something completely different, like rock or Two-Tone bands, in another

room. When they see you loading in giant speaker boxes they used to say "what's going on?"

You turn on and ..."

He bangs a huge fist on the shop wall in a skilful impression of a thumping bass.

"...that's the way you get them. At that time it was a whole heap a steppers and

once you touch the steppers, the whole place go mad!"


Roots sound systems are such a mystery to many people today because of the lean times that

they faced from the mid eighties to the mid nineties. These were times of tribulation for roots

men like Mikey Dread.

"Dancehall came in and things started changing. You had to search for roots music.

There were still certain things that came along and there were singers that stood out. You'd

hear about a tune coming around and knew you'd better get it because you might not see it

again. For example there was a youth called White Mice who had some dangerous tunes,

but he just came on the scene and went again."

Sound men also faced another problem, one that threatened to make them into an endangered

species. Pirate radio stations started advertising and promoting their own club nights often using

an in-house PA system.

"From around '85 radio really started coming into play. When a pirate station did a

dance, instead of bringing one sound system, they would bring ten DJs and everybody

just walks with a bag a tunes. Radio and the DJ thing is basically what killed the sound

systems. Some of them club DJs came from sound system and they said "we don't want

to lift up boxes anymore". They'd rather walk with a bag and pick up £200 on a session."


The mood and spirit of roots reggae is interwoven with Rastafarian belief, giving people like

Mikey Dread values that transcend changing fashions and economic difficulty.

"Despite the problems and the tribulations that we had everyone could identify that

there were certain things we stood for. It is something in your heart, we never take it for

granted. We''re giving you music through Rastafari which is very important. People come to

a session to have inspiration, to have a certain vibe and to get a spiritual feeling. Whatever

problem you've had during the day, you can face them at a different level. That''s what

roots music through Rastafari does."


The last five years has seen a resurgence in roots reggae and another boom time for the

sound systems.

"Carnival is the most I enjoy playing because we've built it up. We started carnival

in '83 and we were playing to ten or fifteen people. You get guys sleeping in vans

overnight to look after their equipment. We would like to sleep in a bed, but you do it

because you love carnival and you love to get the music over. We're changing a lot of

people¹s minds in two days at Notting Hill. You get loads of people coming from the

continent which is something that's developed over the years. It only takes one person in

the audience to say "yeah I'd like to book them." As a result we've played from northern

Germany to the south of France. It's been very interesting playing in Europe. Young

people know a lot more than you'd expect and sound systems are springing up all over.

After carnival last year I had people phone me from Germany and Holland saying they

want to start sound systems because they've been in Channel One's corner and heard the

vibes."

He is not at all bitter about the tough times they¹ve been through to get to this point, his one

regret seems to be that we live in a society where parents, teachers and employers told

the youth to reject Rastafari and conform, in order to secure a good job and status. Only for

them to realise nearly twenty years later that they've done what they were told and still find

themselves at the back of the queue.

"They came out of Rastafari. Society tells you to come out of it, you're told it won't

carry, you'll have to cut your hair for an interview and things like that. Some people did it,

but if you¹re gonna get a job you should be able to get it as yourself."


2003 sees Mikey Dread celebrating a twentieth anniversary at carnival, playing to huge crowds

all over Europe and selling the music he loves from his Roots And Culture record store in East

London. This has been achieved by refusing to give in or back down. Finally I had to put the

question that so many of the uninitiated who come across his sound at carnival must ask. Why

only one turntable?

"When turntables were made, you were intended to play with one. It's from creation."

You'd have to be very determined to argue with this man.

 

(August 2003) 

 

 

 Roots& Culture Records website: www.rootsandculture.co.uk