Digital juice stack traxx 50 cinematic scores stacks They were thick-hipped, luscious Brown, and fiery with an edgy passion and humor. What made this sonic incursion tolerable for me was the welcome presence of Jamaican women. Often it was accompanied by the unintelligible doggerel of U-Roy, I-Roy, and other toasting MCs.
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Using massive bass speakers that rattled the ice in paper cups and the windows of nearby homes, a new, booming, molecule-altering sound filled Brooklyn nights. In the tribal battleground that was 1970s NYC, the Caribbean influx added a new twist to our eternal jockeying for space and respect.įirst, it was calypso, which Id been hearing coming from various house parties since I was small.īut this new wave of immigrants didnt just confine their sound to the intimacy of private parties or clubs. Many of these screwfaced cats hung in front of Tilden High wearing tams, Clark Wallabees, and kicking around a soccer ball, introducing me to a new sport I neither understood nor liked. Next came working-class Caribbean immigrants, folks whose rough-and-ready attitudes were as tough as any public housing young blood. Those first arrivals were upscale folks, often from Trinidad or Barbados. Plus, many of that first wave of kids acted like they were better than us, with haughty attitudes similar to bourgeois African Americans and a pride in coming from an independent Black country and owning property back home that few of us could match. They didnt eat what we ate, didnt move like we moved, didnt always dress like we dressed.
They spoke English with accents that ranged from sing-song charming to incomprehensible. When they started arriving, they met both confusion and hostility from native-born Black students, including yours truly. Seeing the Marley transcript sent me back in time not just to 1980, but to the mid-1970s in Brooklyns East Flatbush neighborhood when the first Caribbean teenagers began attending Brooklyns Samuel J. I hadnt seen it in years the paper Id typed it on had yellowed, corrections had been made with liquid eraser, and the first page had the address of my first post-college apartment in Queens. The name of the headliner, the Commodores, was printed on the ticket, but what made that show extraordinary were the opening acts rapper Kurtis Blow and the reggae superstar Bob Marley, who I had interviewed earlier that same week.īut where was the transcript I started opening other drawers and looking in other corners of that back room, hoping the interview hadnt fallen victim to one of my moves over the years. The ticket price for an orchestra seat was 12.50, but mine had Guest stamped on it since it was complimentary.
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