Blogarhythms

It shouldn’t have gone unnoticed that over time I’ve profiled a few records produced by legendary Dub producer Lee “Scratch” Perry in this space. I’ve also invoked his name on numerous occasions even when he wasn’t directly involved with creating the music under discussion. The frequency of his appearances in my writing is a product of the esteem I hold him in as an artist, songwriter, producer, trailblazing pioneer, trendsetter, maverick and rule-breaker.

His presence looms large over my appreciation of music as one of the originators of the warm, dusty, bass-heavy, lo-fidelity sound I find so appealing and which presaged the sonic signature of a whole school of classic Hip-Hop LPs. Whether they were influenced by him or merely working in the same spirit of low-income innovation by exceeding their own technological limitations with raw ingenuity, the grittty hollowed-out sound of ’90s Hip-Hop producers like The RZA and Da Beatminerz was a sampler and DAT machine powered revision of Lee Perry’s 4-track overdubbing wizardry and explosive effects experiments. For this reason his name remains near the top of any list I might compile of the musical genii I find most influential.

Whenever I dig through Reggae vinyl I keep an eye out for his records and the various sides he had a hand in writing or producing. A cover feature on Perry in the second issue of the Beastie Boys‘ short-lived Grand Royal magazine during the mid-’90s was (in addition to being a font of information on the man and his work in the pre-internet days) infinitely helpful on this front as it featured a relatively comprehensive discography as well as color photos of many of his album covers. The visual aid made spotting his records all the easier and was a handy guide to avoiding his less-than-essential late career releases. And that’s just what I’ve done during my decades of digging, avoided pretty much all of his output released after the destruction of his Black Ark studio. Well, that’s what I’ve done until now!

This week Lee “Scratch” Perry releases his fifty-fourth album, a 12-track album titled Repentance which finds The Upsetter spewing his trademark stream of consciousness spoken word toasting, replete with sleazy non-sequiturs, apocalyptic proclamations, spiritual revelations, political abstractions and self-righteous braggadocio, atop techno-industrial “riddims.” Produced by eccentric renaissance man and multi-instrumentalist Andrew W.K. (yes, the guy with the greasy hair and skintight acid washed jeans), Repentance was recorded in Brooklyn, New York and Anaheim, California with the assistance of Moby, David Tibet of “Apocalyptic-Folk” outfit Current 93, Aimee Allen, Lightning Bolt drummer, Fort Thunder collective member and Björk collaborator Brian Chippendale, porn star Sasha Grey and others.

If that sounds bizarre keep in mind it’s an album by a dude who was dressing like André 3000 when André 3000 was dressing in the short pants his mother picked out for him. In other words, Perry’s always been bizarre. But if you’re expecting vintage collie-scented Black Ark dub you’ll surely be disappointed. I was a little apprehensive going into it myself, but knowing what not to expect helped a lot. Even so, I was surprised by how much I liked the opening track “$hine,” a slow bubbling groove with a fierce bassline, drum machine claps and Disney’s Electric Light Parade synth twinkles that’s unexpectedly tuff and aggressive despite its snails pace. “$hine” is punky and modernist in all its electro-dub trappings, which can also be said about its follow-up “Fire,” where Perry calls down celestial flames over crunchy programmed snares, sampled horns, squishy synths and orgasmic female moaning.

Lee “Scratch” Perry “$hine”

After being eased into Repentance by those two cuts I thought “oh shit, Lee Perry’s getting his M.I.A. on!” And while there are moodier moments, like the bewilderingly creepy David Tibet featuring “Baby Sucker,” which could be a Tricky record, and more traditional, almost middle of the road, computer-riddim Reggae tunes like “God Save His King,” “Heart Doctor,” “Crazy Pimp” and “War Dance,” much of the album is compatible with the globe-embracing beats of Ms. Arulpragasam and her homegirl Santogold’s “Electro-Punk in Dub” stylee. Want proof? Peep the slinky downtempo skank “Reggae Man,” with its toy keyboard plinks, righteous “I Chase the Devil”-esque lyrics and female backup vocals. The most shocking examples of this new style might be “Santa Claus,” a Rave-ready Diwali rhythm-like track with an “untz, untz, untz” thump, gurgling synthesizers, handclaps and lyrics about an end of the world party where Santa Claus, Mickey Mouse and Jesus will be in attendance, and closer “Party Time” where a Kraftwerk-inspired “motorik” beat and lazer-like synth bursts are married to a jumpy Dancehall rhythm.

Yeah, it’s weird. Even coming from a certified weirdo like Scratch. But it’s not that it’s weird because of how unlike his seminal recordings it is. No, it’s weird because of how trend-consciously contemporary and relevant it is while still holding fast to so many of the things that make Lee Perry who he is. In someone else’s hands these tracks would be getting licensed out for movie soundtracks, beer ads and every other form of commercial fuckery imaginable. And who knows, with the way the commercial game has been going they still might. And yet, there Lee Perry is, like some Rastafarian Rasputin for the information age; a mad mystic calling down judgment on the wicked and pleading for repentance even as he lecherously proclaims his love of ass and calls the righteous to hedonistic celebration.

Even stripped of his “sound” and wrapped in the slick raiments of modern recording techniques he’s still an original and as unpredictable as a force of nature like him can be.