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Lee “Scratch” Perry

Some call him a genius, others claim he’s certifiably insane, a madman. Truth is,
he’s both, but more importantly, Lee Perry is a towering figure in reggae — a producer,
mixologist, and songwriter who, along with King Tubby, helped shape the sound of dub
and made reggae music such a powerful part of the pop music world. Along with producing
some of the most influential acts (Bob Marley & the Wailers and the Congos to
name but two) in reggae history, Perry’s approach to production and dub mixing was
breathtakingly innovative and audacious — no one else sounds like him — and while
many claim that King Tubby invented dub, there are just as many who would argue that
no one experimented with it or took it further than did Lee Perry.

Born in the rural Jamaican village of St. Mary’s in 1936, Perry began his surrealistic
musical odyssey in the late ’50s, working with ska man Prince Buster selling records
for Clement “Coxsone” Dodd’s Downbeat Sound System. Called “Little” Perry because
of his diminutive stature (Perry stands 4’11”), he was soon producing and recording
for Dodd at the center of the Jamaican music industry, Studio One. After a falling
out with Dodd (throughout his career, Perry has a tendency to burn his bridges after
he stopped working with someone), Perry went to work at Wirl Records with Joe Gibbs.
Perry and Gibbs never really saw eye to eye on anything, and in 1968, Perry left to
form his own label, called Upsetter. Not surprisingly, Perry’s first release on Upsetter
was a single entitled “People Funny Boy,” which was a direct attack upon Gibbs. What
is important about the record is that, along with selling extremely well in Jamaica,
it was the first Jamaican pop record to use the loping, lazy, bass-driven beat that
would soon become identified as the reggae “riddim” and signal the shift from the
hyperkinetically upbeat ska to the pulsing, throbbing languor of “roots” reggae.

From this point through the 1970s, Perry released an astonishing amount of work under
his name and numerous, extremely creative pseudonyms: Jah Lion, Pipecock Jakxon, Super
Ape, the Upsetter, and his most famous nom de plume, Scratch. Many of the singles
released during this period were significant Jamaican (and U.K.) hits, instrumental
tracks like “The Return of Django,” “Clint Eastwood,” and “The Vampire,” which cemented
Perry’s growing reputation as a major force in reggae music. Becoming more and more
outrageous in his pronouncements and personal appearance (when it comes to clothing,
only Sun Ra can hold a candle to Perry’s thrift-store outfits), Perry and his remarkable
house band, also named the Upsetters, worked with just about every performer in Jamaica.
It was in the early ’70s after hearing some of King Tubby’s early dub experiments
that Perry also became interested in this form of aural manipulation. He quickly released
a mind-boggling number of dub releases and eventually, in a fit of creative independence,
opened his own studio, Black Ark.

It was at Black Ark that Perry recorded and produced some of the early, seminal Bob
Marley tracks. Using the Upsetters rhythm section of bassist Aston “Familyman” Barrett
and his drummer brother Carlton Barrett, Perry guided the Wailers through some of
their finest moments, recording such powerful songs as “Duppy Conqueror” and “Small
Axe.” The good times, however, were not long, especially after Perry, unbeknown to
Marley and company, sold the tapes to Trojan Records and pocketed the cash. Island
Records head Chris Blackwell quickly moved in and signed the Wailers to an exclusive
contract, leaving Perry with virtually nothing. Perry accused Blackwell (a white Englishman)
of cultural imperialism and Marley of being an accomplice. For years, Perry referred
to Blackwell as a vampire, and accused Marley of having curried favor with politicians
in order to make a fast buck. These setbacks did not stem the tide of Perry releases,
be they of new material or one of a seemingly endless collection of anthologies. Perry
was also expanding his range of influence, working with the Clash, who were huge Perry
fans, having covered the Perry-produced version of Junior Murvin’s classic “Police
and Thieves.” Perry was brought in to produce some tracks for the Clash, but the results
were remixed more to the band’s liking.

All this hard work was wreaking havoc with Perry’s already fragile mental state, leading
to a breakdown. The stories of his mental instability were exacerbated by tales of
massive substance abuse (despite his public stance against all drugs except sacramental
ganja), which reportedly included regular ingestion of cocaine and LSD; one potentially
apocryphal story even had Perry drinking bottles of tape head-cleaning fluid. But
these stories, as with much surrounding Perry, blur fact and fiction. One story that
was true was that Black Ark, and everything in it, burned to the ground. Perry claims
bad wiring as the culprit, but the more familiar and commonly accepted story is that
Perry burned the studio down in a fit of acid-inspired madness, convinced that Satan
had made Black Ark his home. Whatever the case, the site of Perry’s greatest moments
as a producer had been reduced to (and remains) a pile of rubble and ash. Soon after
the fire that consumed Black Ark, Perry, increasingly fed up with the music business
in Jamaica (which by all accounts is corruption personified), decided to leave Jamaica.

Despite the considerable lows in his career, Perry remained busy and, so it seemed,
reasonably happy. Although he was less in demand as a producer, his solo work remained
very strong, and his continuing influence could be felt in the contemporary dub music
of the Mad Professor (another former Perry protégé that Perry went on to treat with
disdain) and some post-rave electronica music. Even the Beastie Boys gave Perry his
props in a rhyme on their release Ill Communication and later added him to the bill
of performers at a concert for Tibetan freedom. The man called Scratch lives in Switzerland
and continues to cook up a psychedelic brew of music that, along with being ahead
of its time, will warp your head, in a good way, assuming that you’re up to the challenge.
In 1997, Island (the label started by the vampire Chris Blackwell) released Arkology,
a three-disc compilation of Perry recordings.

A word or two about Perry’s discography: it’s massive, unwieldy, and although there
are plenty of great records, there’s almost as much crap. The lack of quality control
has little to do with Perry, but rather with sleazebags trying to rip off his legacy.
After King Tubby’s murder in 1989, his studio was looted, and many of Perry’s tapes
were stolen. Some of these recordings have shown up on poorly mastered, and expensive,
anthologies. Releases on Trojan, Rounder’s reggae subsidiary label Heartbeat, and
Island (and its subsidiary label Mango) are generally excellent and are the best place
to start building your Perry collection. Smaller labels like Seven Leaves and the
French Lagoon Records (which seems like a semi-legit bootleg label) are hit-and-miss
propositions, and those inclined to check out recordings on these labels are encouraged
to proceed with caution. And avoid releases on the Rohit label, if only for their
lousy production and tacky, grade-Z packaging. Also, as with King Tubby recordings,
purchasing a Perry release means you might be buying a record he produced, but not
necessarily performs on. That said, happy hunting and listening.


  • Alter egos include The Upsetter, Scratch, Pipecock Jackxon, Super Ape and Small Axe
    (real name – Rainford Hugh Perry)

  • Cut his first record in 1959

  • Threatened to kill Bob Marley after Bob nicked his backing band (they made it up though)

  • Perry’s Upsetters were one of the first reggae acts to tour the UK

  • Spent three days in prison for allegedly burning his Black Ark studio to the ground
    in 1981

  • Put a curse on the BBC that can never be undone till Perry’s records are played round
    the clock

  • Collaborated with cosmic Scots folkie John Martyn on a track called “Big Muff”, reputedly
    about a fuzz pedal

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