Lee SCRATCH Perry Page at Ras John's Reggae.com

Updated and revised from Reggae Rasta Revolution
(Schirmer Books, 1997)

With a man as legendary, mysterious, and eccentric as Lee Perry, the story of his life is a mix of fact and fiction, newspaper clippings and ghost stories. Much of what we know about Perry is open to conjecture, point of view, bad ganja, and grains of salt the size of golf balls. None of this is made up, but I make no apologies for taking artistic license in telling Scratch's story.

"I came, I saw, and I conquered." Lee Perry's early life mirrors many of Jamaica's musical super stars: he was born poor in a small village, earned an early reputation as a wise guy, came to Kingston in the 1950s, heard the music, learned the moves, got the groove. His first job was with pioneering record producer Clement "Coxsone" Dodd at his soon to be legendary Studio One: errand boy, handy man, bouncer, spy, talent scout, uncredited songwriter, arranger, and - eventually - performer. Perry cut his first record, "Old For New" in 1959; "Chicken Scratch" was his first bonafide hit in 1965, but it was a drop in the Studio One bucket.

In 1966, after almost seven years with Studio One, Perry left in a flash of lightning, pissed off at Coxsone for not giving him enough money or recognition over the years. He crossed the street and joined forces with greenhorn producer Joe Gibbs, cutting his first signature tune, the sinister "I Am The Upsetter", as a warning to Coxsone and anyone else who might try to screw him. Gibbs wasn't really a producer at first, just a hustler with a lot of cash and an ear for music. He quickly realized that Perry had the groove, so in 1967 he hired Perry to run his new Amalgamated label for him. Perry wasted no time, and produced a string of hits for Gibbs, including The Pioneers' "Long Shot", which was the first song to use a new rhythm in Jamaican music - it didn't have a name at the time, but a year later someone christened the beat "reggae". "Long Shot" and other Perry works from this time are therefore evidence for those who claim that he actually invented reggae.

Perry's productions mashed up the place, but since Gibbs wanted a "silent" partner, he was asking for trouble when he decided to put Perry on the elbow list. Furious once again for being slighted, he split from Amalgamated with a mighty roar and retaliated with "People Funny Boy", which was another "screw you" song aimed straight to Gibbs' head. Ironic, since Perry's big hit for Gibbs had been "Upsetter", which was a "screw you" song aimed at Coxsone!

By 1968, Perry decided that since he couldn't work with any of Jamaica's producers without furniture being broken, he would do it himself. His first move was to hire the best guns he could to help him take over the world. Perry named his new band after his current nickname and his new record label: The Upsetters.

The Upsetters used to hang out with Perry all day on the hot streets of Kingston, heading off to the movies in the afternoon to watch as many spaghetti westerns as they could before heading back to the studio for an all night session. Galvanized by the shoot 'em ups, they cut violent, spooky instrumentals like "Kill Them All", "The Vampire", "Dig Your Grave", and what became their signature tune, "Return Of Django". Alongside the funky Upsetter instrumentals, Perry scored hits with soulful numbers from some of Jamaica's top vocalists, such as David Isaacs, The Silvertones, and Slim Smith. When "Django" became a hit in England, Perry and his crew went on a six week tour of Britain - a first for a reggae band.

Riding a wave, the ambitious Perry opened up his own store, the Upsetter Record Shop, located at 36 Charles Street, premises once owned by his buddy Prince Buster. The Shop not only sold the latest and kinkiest Upsetter singles, but cranked out groovy music all day and acted as Perry's base of operations, not to mention rehearsal room, bar, and herb counter. The Upsetter Shop played an important role in waking the town and telling the people about the Upsetter's sound, which was becoming more distinct with each release. The popularity of Perry's productions also enabled him to sponsor a weekly program on the JBC, where the latest Upsetter records were spun by enthusiastic DJ Winston "The Whip" Williams. While most of the early Upsetter singles were straightforward, soul inspired reggae, occasionally Perry would throw people for a loop with a bizarre B-side or strange vocal effects. The Upsetter was beginning to upset.

One day a young roughneck named Bob Marley came to visit the Upsetter Record Shop. His band The Wailers had been very successful a few years earlier with Coxsone, but at the moment they were struggling. The Wailers needed to jump start their sound or die trying. Young producers like Perry were creating new and exciting sounds that would pull the rug out from under the feet of the "old men" of the Jamaican music scene. Bob Marley and his friends Peter Tosh and Bunny Wailer were amazed that The Upsetters had been so popular overseas. Once The Upsetters returned from Britain, they were rather vex with Perry, who - ironically, given his past dealings with Coxsone and Gibbs - apparently had taken the lion's share of the cash from the tour. Before long, Bob Marley realized that a collaboration between them and The Wailers could be an unstoppable combo. After a few rehearsals and jam sessions together, Marley talked The Upsetters into abandoning Perry's ship and joining The Wailers.

When Perry found out that Marley had stolen his crack musicians from him, he was understandably furious. He actually threatened to kill Bob. The two of them met one day to have it out, and judging from the volume of their voices, everyone around thought that it would end up with someone's head being broken. Instead, they emerged from behind closed doors hours later, all smiles and slapping each other on the back. The Upsetters were still joining The Wailers, but their exclusive producer was to be - of course - Lee Perry.

The way that Lee Perry describes his decision to work with Marley is unexpectedly charming. When Marley came to Perry and told him that Scratch had the sound that he wanted for the Wailers, Perry wasn't swayed. He didn't want to work with singers, he was concentrating on the deadly instrumentals that the Upsetters had become famous for. When Bob Marley sang the words to "My Cup" to Perry, it touched a nerve. "My cup is running over and I don't know what to do..." The Upsetter knew that he was hearing an artist's confession, that Marley's artistic cup was running over and he didn't know where to turn. Perry decided that a duppy (an evil spirit) was responsible for Marley's troubles, and wrote "Duppy Conqueror" for him. With the duppies conquered and the cups under control, The Wailers, The Upsetters, and Lee Perry headed for the studio.

Perry pounded his fist at the mixing desk and turned the two bands into killers. The Upsetters laid down rhythms that flowed like blue and orange water at high tide, and The Wailers sang like never before. The mix of Bob Marley's streetwise sensibilities, combined with Perry's sense of adventure and mysticism, proved to be a turning point not only in their careers but in the history of reggae. The chemistry between Perry, Marley, The Wailers, and The Upsetters proved to be phenomenal. Together, they produced classic songs like "Small Axe", "Duppy Conqueror", "Fussing And Fighting", and many others that changed the course of reggae and laid the foundation for Bob Marley's subsequent success. Many of the songs were re-recorded later on in Marley's career, but the magic of the Perry sessions has never been surpassed.

Success - and a lot of fantastic music - continued through 1969 and 1970. By 1971, however, The Wailers / Upsetters' honeymoon was over. Dynamic as their personalities were, it was only natural that Perry and Marley would share a love / hate relationship. Tosh and Wailer, on the other hand, resented Perry's aggressive approach to producing their music. Upsetting, and not in the good way. Arguments over chart success and credit where credit was due led to a final bust-up. With the Upsetters' rhythm section in tow, The Wailers formed a new band, and, after signing to Island Records in 1973, became reggae superstars. The Upsetters went their separate ways, but Perry kept the name to refer to the floating band of killer musicians that played for him over the years. (See the Upsetters biography for more details).

Since it was recorded, the Perry-produced Wailers material has become the most heavily bootlegged music in the band's career. When they entered their collaboration, Perry and Marley had a handshake agreement that all the swag would be equally shared; once the music was delivered to Trojan Records in London, Perry took all of the money and told The Wailers they would only get royalties, a greedy and highly hypocritical move considering the alleged robbery that other producers had subjected him to. At a time when The Wailers were looking to advance their career after years of struggling, to be stabbed in the back by an apparent ally like Perry was too much for them to take. To this day, the copyrights to this incredible music have remained up in the air, resulting in dozens of crummy compilations that neither Marley's family nor Perry receive any money for. The words to "People Funny Boy" seem to boomerang in Perry's direction over this one...

Perry began to expand on many of the musical experiments that he had introduced to Jamaican music while still working with other producers. Twenty years before anyone had ever used the term "alternative" music, Perry shot pistols, broke glass, ran tapes backwards, and used samples of crying babies, falling rain, and animal sounds in his unique productions. With wild songs such as "Cane River Rock" (featuring traffic and motorcycle noise throughout), and "Headquarters" (featuring a phone call from a child as an introduction), the Upsetter was certainly living up to his nickname.

By 1973, Perry began to feel the squeeze of having to rely on commercial studios for his unique work. Most of his work had been recorded at Randy's Studio 17 or Dynamic Sound, and having to keep an eye on the clock while working his musical voodoo was a definite distraction. He and his family had moved into Washington Gardens, a posh Kingston suburb, a few years earlier, and while napping under a tree in his backyard, Perry had a dream where he heard music. When he awoke, he took the dream as a sign and began building his own studio on the exact spot. When it was completed in 1974, he painted the words BLACK ARK above the door, for it was here that Perry reckoned that he would lay down the Ten Commandments of reggae. For any other producer this would be an eccentric boast; in retrospective, Perry was being modest. The music that was recorded at the Black Ark over the next five years was absolute magic from one of reggae's most radical sorcerers.

For more, visit: http://www.upsetter.net/scratch/

INTERVIEW: Lee “Scratch” Perry: Forever the Upsetter (from RELIX - click here to go to original posting page)

When one speaks of reggae music’s progenitors, there are usually three names that come before any others: Bob Marley, Coxsone Dodd and Lee “Scratch” Perry. And now, only the Upsetter remains—Perry, the mad, mystical and wildly talented musician and producer who burned down his legendary Blark Ark studio, which produced many of the genre’s landmark albums, including much of Marley’s seminal early work with The Wailers. Despite turning 70 earlier this year, Scratch is still disarming—one moment speaking of various divinities that flit around his own esoteric spirituality while the next explicating the various methodologies used in creating dub music, all the while striking the figure of a rapscallion monarch with a throaty, mischievous laugh. Speaking from his home in Switzerland—he still ventures to Jamaica at least once a year—Perry gives answers that wind around each other, occasionally rhyme, and teeter on the edge of the absurd only to occasionally reveal themselves as quite grounded.

Back when you were at the Black Ark, I read that you loved balls. What was it about those pieces of rubber with air captured inside that you loved so much?

Yeah, it’s true. That’s because most of them was written with a different country on it: America, Africa, Ethiopia, Addis Abba, London, England, Great Britain, everything was written on it like places that were America would want to sell. So I had at that like a souvenir.

Did you ever use them in songs?

No, I never used them in songs. Just have them like a picture in the mantle where I like to have my fans, where I like to sell records. Something like that. When I punch it, maybe I throw it up and I kick the ball. I like making contact with those countries like that.

You’ve said that, “the reggae kings are dying and the reggae princes are dying. I don’t want to die in it.” Are there are who will survive? Are there any new kings or princes of reggae in your opinion?

Some will survive. It was that thing… Seeing repentance, who survive. And I used to be a number one ganja smoker and I was even getting addicted to ganja and then this priest said to me, what about your health? As much you love the ganja, your health is more important. Why don’t you love your health? I still love the ganja but because the ganja can be many use, it can even be a medicine, you don’t have to smoke it. So why don’t you choose your health and use the ganja for making tea? (laughter)

So now it’s drinking and eating the ganja.

Definitely. And I repent. I was obedient to the spirits and I repent and say, “Ok, I love the ganja and I am addicted to the ganja but for the sake of my health I will have to stop smoke the ganja. And I will have to stop eating meat because the God said “thou shall not kill” and “thou shall kill the animals and eat the animals.” So I respect what the spirit said and I will be the spirit and if any other people who respect the spirit and let the spirit speak, they will survive.

I know you’re not fond of present day Jamaica. For you, when was the last time Jamaica was really great or when was it good for you?

I have to in Jamaica maybe once or twice a year. And the reason I have to be in Jamaica once or twice a year is because the studio I build, it wasn’t really a studio. It’s a temple away from my temple. I make it an example that I need a temple to worship my god. I build my own temple which is a temple of material—stones, sea stones and sea shells and I build called The Black Ark. So that is my holy temple. When I’m away from my holy temple, there will be something going on. Is a flood or a storm or something like that, so I have to go back. The temple call me to come home. I don’t stay away from Jamaica because Jamaica is a blessed country. To prove that Jamaica is a blessed country, Jamaica give us reggae music. So I see that Jamaica is very blessed. So whenever Jamaica, my temple, they call it The Black Ark, call me, I go to Jamaica to see what the Black Ark need and to arrange things. If there is too much sin, we try and get rid of the sin. If there is too much police killin’ innocent people—it’s not that they are innocent but sometimes their sins are too much and it takes an evil man to get evil with an evil man. Jamaica needs some evil police to get rid of the evil rebels in Jamaica as well. Every country needs an evil set of police to get rid of evil rebels in the country.

You’ve often said, “I never try. I never plan.” My sense is that you feel that art must come naturally, that inspiration is divine in some way. Have you ever written out your lyrics or musical charts?

Because I have contact with the earth, I have contact with water, I have contact with the rain and I have contact with fire, and I have my most head contact with fire, I believe in the lord. And I believe in our father art in heaven. Art is art. And god father walking in heaven in an art. And I believe in art. And I believe in the invisible breath of life. I believe in the invisible ear and I believe in the words that I speak and I believe in the things that I do. So, things come easy for me, I don’t even have to think. I just pick up a pen and hear all the words coming from the clear blue sky. And what not coming from the North Pole, coming from the Earth, coming from the South Pole.

I read that you recorded in mono because, for you, it represented “one heart, one thought, one love, one destiny, one aim, one alternative.” Is this still true?

I record in compatible stereo. Before use to do mono, but then lately I start to do compatible stereo that you can have one riddim on the track and you can add device on another track. Because if you want to do dub, you could make dub from my music because the vibes could be separated. It used to be mono first but I think it be more fun if you have a compatible stereo that you can put a vice sometime on the DJ who do the turntable can do something on the riddim.

Do you feel like today’s technology has made artists lazy in anyway? People are still so impressed by what you did in mono with four-track to the degree that they don’t know you achieved it.

All those forty-eight tracks not necessary. I do whatever the truth tell me to do. The earth tell me we don’t need 44 track; we don’t 24 track. All we need is to know we have a very clean drum and bass. The most important is the bass, the bass must be very clean because it’s your brain cell and the drum must be very clean because it’s your heartbeat. Make sure your brain cell don’t distracted and make sure your heartbeat don’t get distracted; make you have a clean heart and a pure heart and a clean brain and pure brain and everything will be ok. And then when you play those tracks you’ll hear exactly what is needed and what is missing.

How does one today make dub sound new or fresh? What is the secret?

The secret is that if you want to make a dub a policy of music. You know you’re making a baby. You are an artist or a scientist. Depend on what ever babies you want to make—a righteous baby. Are you following me? I talk in parable but if you don’t understand I can explain it. You understand what I’m saying?

You say that one shouldn’t drink alcohol or smoke the ganja yet during the making of some of your greatest music in the ‘70s, you were under those influences.

Definitely. But the music that I was making, it was good but it was not righteous. I was responsible for making some good monsters as well. Half-monster, half-god. Half-god, half-man monster. I am responsible, I am guilty of that. (laughter)

You’ve used thousands of samples in your music—chainsaws, babies, rain, breaking glass—is there any one that you’re particularly proud of or is your favorite?

I am proud of the babies crying, the water and the cow mooing and the cock. I was thinking of something like the cock crowing (makes rooster sound) and then he says, “Rastafari.” The mistake that I make is the broken bottle. When I discover why there is a riddim of the broken bottle—the broken bottle was war. Fight. And I think I should not do that but if I did not repent I would not discover that I should not do the broken bottle and the music. Because it will lead to war or something like that.

Rumor has it you turned down a chance to work with the Talking Heads. Did you in fact talk to David Byrne for a while about it?

Yes, it would be true. Everything that you could hear first who want me to work with, I didn’t want to work with them because I was seeing things at a different level. It would be easier working with the punk. The punk wasn’t exactly knowing where to go; they were looking where to go. They need like a guide, a teacher to show them. So it was it was easier for me to work with the punk because don’t know they want and the punk need a teacher. But those guys were thinking they were great musicians that knows everything. And the people who thinks they knows everything have it wrong if they want to join my team. My team, we are always open to learn. Not to brag or not to boast. And we don’t music like it is on the scale; we make different scales of music, the way we feel it.

So you felt like the Talking Heads weren’t ready or really willing to work with you as far as learning and being open?

They think they are complete professional.

But when you were talking about punk, I know you did some work with Joe Strummer and The Clash. What were they like?

That’s what I’m saying. They were fresh and they want to know the road, what to do, what to go, where to go, whatever music hold. How long to play the drums; how loud to turn up the guitar; how low to use the bass. They were playing the drums too loud and they were turning up the bass too high and they were turning up the guitar too high, so I have to take them down to normal and show them that they’re not to play the drums so loud because you cannot be balanced. The needle will be hitting red and the bass not so high because the needle will be hitting red. Bring them down to a normal standard. Play it in the studio. They didn’t sound like Jamaican records. They obeyed the teaching and then they start to know how to make records. I would love to work with those people.

There were so many artists that passed through your studio back in the day.

I did have to feed them all as well. Pay their bills. And they used to tell me how much their mother is sick, their father is sick. And I have to give them money to take them to the hospital or they just lie. Supporting them, working around the clock. Wake five o’clock in the morning, never rest. They think I was taking coke but I was not taking coke. I was just taking the spirit.

So, if you could do it all over, would you do things differently?

I would do it specially, I would do it differently and I would only do it with chosen people. Because most of the people did not know that I was helping them, they think I was ripping them off. Even a Bob Marley record I give to company in America called San Juan for publishing otherwise you couldn’t get it published properly. We sell them in the record shop and it was with people that have international contact and when they start to sell the Bob Marley, I was accused of giving the record to a pirate and ripping off the artist. If I hadn’t given the music to the pirates, there wouldn’t be no Bob Marley and the Wailers. They come in Jamaica and wouldn’t go any further. You have to take chance if you want to reach anywhere. So I do it and I don’t regret even though they accuse me of ripping off Bob Marley. But if I didn’t do that, they wouldn’t have reached anywhere. I didn’t rip them off. I was also losing. But you have to do something for the music to reach somewhere.

Your early work with Marley is continuing to be released on these box sets by JAD. When you hear your early work now, what does it sound like? Does time make a difference in how you hear things?

The most important part of everything is the vibe. And if the vibe is unlimited you can dub the vibe to any form of music. If you do a very good vibe, you can do the vibe in another track tomorrow, 20 years after, you do the same vibe on another track and that vibe can fit into any track. You can take the vibe to any dimension in music and it work, yeah? Because you feel good any time the way it was done five year, ten year, 20 years ago, and then it kick into any music and sound still good.

If you were stranded in space and could only bring five records, what would they be?

I would bring “Jah Live” and I would bring another one called “I’m a Duppy Conquer,” and I bring another named “Small Axe” and I would borrow “Exodus” from Bob Marley. And then sell Roast Fish, Kali Weed and Cornbread but this time I wouldn’t be smoking any kaliweed.

Lee “Scratch” Perry was interviewed by Josh Baron
(from RELIX - click here to go to original posting page)

It was a balmy, tropical night in Minneapolis, MN at the famous First Avenue Club. So, what's Ras John doing in MN? I mon here for a BIG event! The stage here has hosted just about every major name in Rock music and it was the launch pad for Prince (there was an artist named that wasn't there?) Anyway, it wasn't Rock or Funk Sunday, August 22, 1998...It was driving, pushing the frontiers REGGAE.

There's a quote on the show poster saying "Lee Perry is Jamaica's most eccentric and innovative producer." That's a reasonable statement and he and a spectacular three man Robotiks Band with (you want to hear a KILLER Mix??) none other than The Mad Professor at the controls of the mixing board, proved Lee lives up to the quote just as well LIVE as in the studio. Including Roots classics like "Roast Fish and Cornbread" everything in the set was fresh and new with Lee's croaking and occasionally melodic voice backed up sizzling, pounding, pulsing dub packed Reggae. With Mad Professor twirling and sliding the mixing board controls Lee and The Robotics created a set that would awe anyone from Miles Davis to your most hard core punk rocker. I met a great guy by the name of Brad and the two of us traded looks of amazement song after song. Throughout, Lee pranced around the stage show with trays and bowls of fresh fruit that he periodically tossed out to the crowd or balanced on top of the aluminum foil helmet he had on his head. This was not a night of classics...this was a night of cutting edge, new music...if you get a chance to see Lee, don't miss it!