It's not every day you get the chance to talk to a genuine living legend -- someone who was at ground zero of an authentic cultural explosion or someone who's actually given a name to an entire musical genre. But that's just what happened when CDNOW caught up with Jamaica's Frederick "Toots" Hibbert last week at his home in Kingston.

Hibbert -- along with Nathaniel "Jerry" Mathias and Henry "Raleigh" Gordon -- was a founding member of seminal early reggae vocal trio Toots and the Maytals, and it was the group's gritty, 1968 single, "Do the Reggay," that gave reggae music its name. But the Maytals got their start earlier, during the early-1960s ska era, when the trio recorded infectious, gospel-inflected tracks for such legendary producers as Coxsone Dodd, Prince Buster, and Byron Lee. By 1966 -- when Hibbert was arrested and imprisoned for18 months on a marijuana possession charge -- the Maytals were already stars and veterans of the Jamaican music scene.

While this might have spelled the end of a lot of rude boys' musical aspirations, the Maytals picked up right where they left off and, with new producer Leslie Kong at the controls, began the most productive phase of their career upon Hibbert's release. It was on Kong's watch, from 1968 until his death in 1971, that the trio recorded the material that made them legends. Hits such as "54-46 Was My Number," "Monkey Man," and "Pressure Drop" are all considered classics -- and "Pressure Drop," along with the exuberant "Sweet and Dandy" made it onto the soundtrack of Perry Henzel's hugely influential 1971 film, The Harder They Come. The group also signed with Chris Blackwell's Island Records -- a move that would put their international profile on par with labelmate Bob Marley.

Though the Maytals' tenure with Island was rocky -- there's still bad blood over royalties and other issues -- the union did produce their best full-length LP, Funky Kingston. After leaving Island in the mid-'70s, the group had a successful and productive run for the remainder of the decade, before finally disbanding in 1981. Since then, Hibbert has kept busy, enjoying his status as an elder statesman of reggae. He continues to record, tour, and collaborate with other artists and producers. Most recently he appeared on the Tom Tom Club's The Good, the Bad and the Funky and brought some old-school authenticity to this summer's massive Reggaeblitz tour.

We caught up with Hibbert just a week after he concluded this tour and found the spry 54-year-old already in the studio, where he was working hard on his first solo album in years. He talked long and candidly about his music, his faith, and what it's like to be a living legend.

CDNOW: So how was the Reggaeblitz tour?

Toots Hibbert: It was good. Everybody says it was good. All the people at all the venues, they told me. I didn't ask them [laughs].

You seem to do a lot more touring than recording these days, why is that?

Well, since I broke [off] my relationship with Chris Blackwell, and I didn't have anything to do with them [Island Records] … because they didn't give me the right promotion, like what they gave to Bob [Marley], you know? They didn't give me no promotion at all.

So I said, let me give a rest to all the big companies. But right now I'm looking for a really big company again … that's willing to publish my songs properly and to spend money to put it through, you know?

 

"Real reggae music can't be computerized. It can't be done on a drum machine. Real reggae needs real people to play real instruments."

To promote it properly?

Yeah, definitely. I'm looking forward to seeing a real company that's interested in good music and the artist.

Have you been in the studio lately?

Yeah. I'm trying to put songs together for an album. I have a lot of songs, but I'm trying to pick out the right ones, too … to put on my new CD. I don't know when it's coming out … maybe January.

I'm preparing the first fully, straight-up reggae album that can go down in the book of Guinness World's records [laughs]. After that, I'd like to release a reggae/R&B album … or even a straight R&B album … I don't know yet; I'm just talking about it now.

Are you collaborating with anyone on this?

Well, I work mostly by myself and with my own musicians.

You worked with Tina [Weymouth] and Chris [Frantz] on the latest Tom Tom Club album. How did that come about?

After I leave Jamaica, I don't know what happens [laughs] … I hooked up with Tina and Chris, and when they got to meet me, they heard a track and said: "Hey, can I do this?" So I said, "OK", and we went up to the studio together. It was good, and I like the song, you know?

As someone who's been there from the beginning, how do you feel about the state of reggae music these days?

Real reggae music can't be computerized. It can't be done on a drum machine. Real reggae needs real people to play real instruments -- live. To make sure that reggae has some culture and some words … words of consolation, words of dignity, words of suffering … Good stories flowing through the air.

If the reggae music doesn't have this kind of feeling, it can't be called real reggae music, you know?

So you don't care for dancehall reggae or ragga?

[Laughs] Well, my music is dancehall music. Reggae music is the original dancehall music. Ska is original dancehall music. Dancehall is reggae also -- it's always been a part of reggae -- but roots is roots [laughs].

Some people talk about hip-hop reggae, but hip-hop is hip-hop, and reggae is reggae.

Do you think reggae suffers when it crosses over?

Reggae is suffering from overproduction … people need to approach production properly.

Also, the words, it needs good words -- not lovin', not kissin' in the bed. Reggae is cultural and needs cultural words.

So do you favor the younger roots men, like Luciano or Capelton, or Buju?

All of these guys are great, you know?

But with upcoming artists, it's like … singers can always sing and deejays can always deejay, but they all have to sing with good words, for the kids coming up and with the blessing of Jah.

To get a blessing from Jah … you have to have respect for the people listening to [your music] … you have to have these things in your heart when you make a song … That's what you need to create the right vibes.

I try to give my audiences real everything: real reggae, real music, real words, real love. If people who appreciate good music hear this, the authenticity, then they make a connection, and it sustains them. They won't forget the experience, you know?

It's like when you listen to R&B, you feel the impact of the music -- it's the same with good reggae.

 

"I try to give my audiences real everything: real reggae, real music, real words, real love."

There's always been a real strong R&B flavor in your music. Who influenced you when you were coming up?

Everybody [laughs]. Anyone that sings really … I started listening to Ray Charles … then Mahalia Jackson, Sam Cook, Otis Redding, James Brown … I listened to everyone … there was so much talent in the U.S. then.

It was coming from the Gospel, coming from the church. It carried me. It was such good music … and whenever I hear music like that I just listen. I love that.

You have a strong church background, too, but a lot of new reggae artists coming up today lack that church background. Do you see a difference in the music?

Yeah. When you don't do this, it's hard to come the right way. We grew up with this [church music] the right way -- go to school, learn about God, go to church, learn about God, so that when you look around you in the world, you can see what God does.

You learn to do the right thing and to sing about the right things. I always think about God when I'm writing a song. I pray all the time, and I know about God.

If you know who created you, you have to think about that when you're writing songs. He's the one who gives you the talent and the morals … to put the right message in your songs … to accomplish good things and move people. It's a blessing, you know?

When you were younger, did you ever think that reggae music would take you so far?

Well … no, I never thought of that. I just thought that one day I'd like to live like other people and know people all over the world … people in North America, people in Africa, allover. That's what I dreamed about, and that's the way it turned out.

I'm not rich, but I think it's good.

Are you happy?

Very happy … and strong. That's more important.