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Queens of Riddim
first ladies to step to the mic come correct again
By Rosalind Cummings-Yeates
Women tackling the music industry for power and recognition remains an old story in any country. However, in Jamaica, where the singing, writing and producing of reggae has always been “a man ting,” any woman able to command long-term success is powerful indeed. Female DJs (rappers) and reggae singers win hits about as frequently as hip hop lyrics respect women. Which is to say, occasionally and without any regularity. Hence, the positions of Marcia Griffith as queen of reggae and Lady Saw as queen of dancehall aren’t just marketing terms but indications of indisputable talent and determination. Griffiths earned her title with an astonishing five decades of musical hits that predate the genre’s creation in the early 70s. Lady Saw boasts 15 years in a sub-genre noted for its fickleness and sexually demeaning lyrics. Both women have recently released new albums that reflect the significance and breadth of their groundbreaking careers.
With her two-disc anthology, Melody Life (VP), Marcia Griffiths demonstrates exactly why she’s the queen of reggae. Her smooth vocals master music that veers from early 50s doo-wop, to ska, reggae, pop and R&B. Although many not familiar with reggae history believe she got her start in Bob Marley’s iconic backing group, the I-Threes, Griffiths started her career in 1964 with legendary Studio One producer Coxonne Dodd. Marley was also a part of the studio, writing and singing with Griffith on the CDs opening track, “Oh My Darling.” A rolling doo-wop number that highlights the innocence of Griffith’s teen vocals, it offers a contrast to the maturity of her voice on the next track, “Feel Like Jumping,” a bubbly rock steady tune that was her first hit in 1967. While the title track bears a definite anti-feminist slant: “When you’re in love it’s a lovely life/ when someone asks you to be his wife/it is so good for you to settle down/it doesn’t pay for you to roam the town,” Griffiths co-wrote the breezy ballad and lists it as one of her favorites. The second disc reveals the full power of Griffith’s velvety vocals, with the roots reggae of “Peaceful Woman” and the sass of the 80s funk on “Electric Boogie,” a crossover hit that continues to prompt the electric slide globally. Although she has said “it was a rough, tough job standing up as a woman in this business,” Marcia Griffith’s perseveres as a triumphant reggae exception.
When Lady Saw burst upon the dancehall scene in 1992, few expected her to persevere past the “slack” (obscene) tunes like “Stab Up The Meat” and “Hardcore” that brought her attention. With a charismatic “rude gyal” attitude and an audacious stage show that often features the DJ grabbing her crotch and simulating sex, Saw gained notoriety for challenging the narrow feminine status quo. Her gruff delivery and witty, pro-woman lyrics ensured that she stood out and became a favorite with female dancehall fans. Unlike her U.S. counterparts, Lil Kim and Foxy Brown, Saw, aka Marion Hall, didn’t just talk about sexual empowerment, she grabbed it by writing and producing her own music and standing up to her male detractors. When she was threatened with expulsion from the annual Jamaican reggae Sunfest, in 2001 for sexual antics that male DJs routinely pull off, she promptly boycotted the event, only returning two years later when organizers agreed to increase her fee for the grief she endured.
With seven albums, a global mass of devoted female fans and a Grammy from her 2001 collaboration with No Doubt on “Underneath It All,” Saw remains at the top of her game. Only the second Jamaican woman to attain the coveted Grammy, (Millie Small was with first in 1964 with the ska hit “My Boy Lollipop”), she continues to break down barriers with Walkout (VP). Although the CD brims with Saw’s usual scorching, wicked, dancehall tunes like “Power of The [censored] [censored]” and “Chat To Mi Back,” it also continues down the socio-political road that she started years ago with conscious tunes like “Condom” and “What Is Slackness.”
An accomplished, choir-trained singer as well as a DJ, Saw pours her soul into the punchy reggae melody of “No Less Than a Woman.” In a country where fertility is a badge of honor and women without children are viewed with suspicion, the adopted mother of three airs her struggle with miscarriages and infertility: “Not having a child does not make me no less than a woman/cause I have so much love to give...so much unwanted kids.” Not content with that, Saw also addresses unrelenting beauty standards on “World’s Prettiest.” She croons, “I’m not the world’s most prettiest but I turned out fine/I wasn’t born with a pretty face and I don’t have a super model shape/but I’m beautiful so I walk with grace.”
Dat cris. Check it deep.
(Writer Rosalind Cummings-Yeates is a Chicago-based freelance writer who specializes in African and Caribbean culture.)
first ladies to step to the mic come correct again
By Rosalind Cummings-Yeates
Women tackling the music industry for power and recognition remains an old story in any country. However, in Jamaica, where the singing, writing and producing of reggae has always been “a man ting,” any woman able to command long-term success is powerful indeed. Female DJs (rappers) and reggae singers win hits about as frequently as hip hop lyrics respect women. Which is to say, occasionally and without any regularity. Hence, the positions of Marcia Griffith as queen of reggae and Lady Saw as queen of dancehall aren’t just marketing terms but indications of indisputable talent and determination. Griffiths earned her title with an astonishing five decades of musical hits that predate the genre’s creation in the early 70s. Lady Saw boasts 15 years in a sub-genre noted for its fickleness and sexually demeaning lyrics. Both women have recently released new albums that reflect the significance and breadth of their groundbreaking careers.
With her two-disc anthology, Melody Life (VP), Marcia Griffiths demonstrates exactly why she’s the queen of reggae. Her smooth vocals master music that veers from early 50s doo-wop, to ska, reggae, pop and R&B. Although many not familiar with reggae history believe she got her start in Bob Marley’s iconic backing group, the I-Threes, Griffiths started her career in 1964 with legendary Studio One producer Coxonne Dodd. Marley was also a part of the studio, writing and singing with Griffith on the CDs opening track, “Oh My Darling.” A rolling doo-wop number that highlights the innocence of Griffith’s teen vocals, it offers a contrast to the maturity of her voice on the next track, “Feel Like Jumping,” a bubbly rock steady tune that was her first hit in 1967. While the title track bears a definite anti-feminist slant: “When you’re in love it’s a lovely life/ when someone asks you to be his wife/it is so good for you to settle down/it doesn’t pay for you to roam the town,” Griffiths co-wrote the breezy ballad and lists it as one of her favorites. The second disc reveals the full power of Griffith’s velvety vocals, with the roots reggae of “Peaceful Woman” and the sass of the 80s funk on “Electric Boogie,” a crossover hit that continues to prompt the electric slide globally. Although she has said “it was a rough, tough job standing up as a woman in this business,” Marcia Griffith’s perseveres as a triumphant reggae exception.
When Lady Saw burst upon the dancehall scene in 1992, few expected her to persevere past the “slack” (obscene) tunes like “Stab Up The Meat” and “Hardcore” that brought her attention. With a charismatic “rude gyal” attitude and an audacious stage show that often features the DJ grabbing her crotch and simulating sex, Saw gained notoriety for challenging the narrow feminine status quo. Her gruff delivery and witty, pro-woman lyrics ensured that she stood out and became a favorite with female dancehall fans. Unlike her U.S. counterparts, Lil Kim and Foxy Brown, Saw, aka Marion Hall, didn’t just talk about sexual empowerment, she grabbed it by writing and producing her own music and standing up to her male detractors. When she was threatened with expulsion from the annual Jamaican reggae Sunfest, in 2001 for sexual antics that male DJs routinely pull off, she promptly boycotted the event, only returning two years later when organizers agreed to increase her fee for the grief she endured.
With seven albums, a global mass of devoted female fans and a Grammy from her 2001 collaboration with No Doubt on “Underneath It All,” Saw remains at the top of her game. Only the second Jamaican woman to attain the coveted Grammy, (Millie Small was with first in 1964 with the ska hit “My Boy Lollipop”), she continues to break down barriers with Walkout (VP). Although the CD brims with Saw’s usual scorching, wicked, dancehall tunes like “Power of The [censored] [censored]” and “Chat To Mi Back,” it also continues down the socio-political road that she started years ago with conscious tunes like “Condom” and “What Is Slackness.”
An accomplished, choir-trained singer as well as a DJ, Saw pours her soul into the punchy reggae melody of “No Less Than a Woman.” In a country where fertility is a badge of honor and women without children are viewed with suspicion, the adopted mother of three airs her struggle with miscarriages and infertility: “Not having a child does not make me no less than a woman/cause I have so much love to give...so much unwanted kids.” Not content with that, Saw also addresses unrelenting beauty standards on “World’s Prettiest.” She croons, “I’m not the world’s most prettiest but I turned out fine/I wasn’t born with a pretty face and I don’t have a super model shape/but I’m beautiful so I walk with grace.”
Dat cris. Check it deep.
(Writer Rosalind Cummings-Yeates is a Chicago-based freelance writer who specializes in African and Caribbean culture.)
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