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NAME:
Rainford Hugh Perry
AKA: Lee, Little, King, Scratch, Pipecock Jackxon,
Super Ape, Ringo, Emmanuel, The Rockstone,
Small Axe, and many others
BORN: 20 March 1936, Kendal, Jamaica
HEIGHT: 5' 4"
CURRENT RESIDENCE: Zurich, Switzerland
OCCUPATION: The Upsetter
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.
In command of his own studio now, Perry began to take his
formidable skills to a new level, and played the mixing
board like an instrument. The wild experiments of the past
few years gave way to more intricate and earthy sounds. As
reggae historian Steve Barrow comments, "the sound of the
Black Ark was like the signature of an artist on his
canvas". The aura of the Black Ark began to attract
Jamaica's greatest performers, from veterans like The
Heptones to obscure singers such as Jah Lion and newcomers
like Dr. Alimantado. Such was his passion for producing that
he routinely gave unknowns a first try and gave has-beens a
shot in the arm. Even prodigal son Bob Marley returned to
Scratch and recorded several songs at the Black Ark. While
other studios had performers punching a clock, Perry was
only too happy to spend as long as it took to get the right
groove. A recording session at the Black Ark took on the
feel of a party as Perry kept the doors to the concrete
studio open for people to wander in and out while he spun in
his chair, clapped his hands, and shouted out his approval
from the mixing board. Perry used eccentric methods such as
cleaning the tape heads with his t-shirt and blowing ganja
smoke onto the master tapes as they rolled, ensuring that
the music recorded in the Black Ark would have a dirty,
magical quality to it that would never be surpassed.
Using fairly simple equipment, Perry was able to take four
tracks and make them sound like eight or more by dumping
several tracks onto one and then repeating the process. With
less than state of the art technology, Perry managed to
create a huge bag of tricks that many producers still puzzle
over today. "It was only four tracks on the machine," Perry
explains, "but I was picking up twenty from the extra
terrestrial squad." Dazzling and dread albums from Max Romeo
(War In A Babylon), The Upsetters (Super Ape), Junior Murvin
(Police And Thieves), The Heptones (Party Time), and The
Congos (Heart Of The Congos), along with hundreds of heavy
singles flowed from the Black Ark between 1976 and 1979. It
represented a pinnacle in Jamaican music, reggae at its
highest heights and greatest power.
While things were heating up in Perry's studio, so was the
political climate in Jamaica. The island's two political
parties had a long tradition of settling arguments out of
court on the streets of Kingston. Each party had hired
gunmen who routinely went apeshit in the weeks before an
election and shot at anything that moved. Anti-violence
songs that foretold a coming apocalypse became the order of
the day, such as Max Romeo's "War In A Babylon", George
Faith's "Guide Line", and Perry's own fevered plea for
sanity, "City Too Hot". Never a stranger to extreme words
and imagery, Perry's outer space productions seemed to
mirror the current heat and confusion of Jamaica perfectly.
Against this vivid backdrop, Perry's sound was becoming
internationally recognized. In 1975 he had secured a
worldwide distribution deal with Island Records, and his
productions had attracted the attention of white rockers
such as Paul McCartney, Robert Palmer, and The Clash. With
the world beating a path to his door, Perry's backyard was
becoming famous.
Despite the incredible music and the magical vibes of the
Black Ark, by the late 1970s, all was not well at Perry's
concrete kingdom. Freeloaders and loiterers began to get on
his nerves, and making music became more and more difficult.
Marathon recording sessions fuelled by ganja and alcohol
began to take their toll. Island Records had deemed some of
his greatest recordings as "un-releaseable". The Black Ark
also became the target for local gangsters who began
pressuring him for protection money. Polite and angry
requests for the "bad weeds" to get out of his garden didn't
work; soon, Scratch turned to weirder methods to get rid of
the unwanted dreads and rude boys. The Black Ark soon
reached the boiling point, and a point of no return for
Perry.
The Black Ark had ceased to function by 1979. Burned out
physically, mentally, and spiritually, Perry and his studio
fell apart. Unable to take the strain, Perry's common law
wife Pauline walked out on him, taking the children with
her. Perry was walking a tighrope between fantasy and
reality, and the departure of his family seemed to push him
further into chaos. A new and disturbing persona emerged,
and while Perry claimed that it was all an elaborate act to
clean house, to rid himself of the people he no longer
wanted around him, the Upsetter's mood was clearly cause for
concern. Visitors and journalists arrived at the Black Ark
to find Perry worshipping bananas, eating money, and
spouting long and violent diatribes.
Perry spent much of his time vandalizing the Black Ark,
covering the once colourful decor in bizarre and profane
graffiti and splotches of black paint. Reels of master tapes
lay strewn on the floor, and the recording equipment was
next to useless due to water damage from a leaky roof. The
once proud studio was now little more than a junkyard.
In April 1979, Perry received a visit from Henk Targowski,
an impresario and owner of Black Star Liner distribution, a
record company based out of Holland. Targowski wanted to
distribute Perry's material, but was not prepared for the
madness he would encounter at the Black Ark. Along with some
associates, Targowski decided to attempt a salvage
operation, trying to refurbish and restore the studio to
working order. Financed by Black Star Liner, contruction
work progressed throughout 1980, and new equipment was
ordered and installed. Along with a motley crew of European
studio musicians, Scratch erratically recorded what would
eventually become the Return Of Pipecock Jacxson album. By
the spring of 1980, however, the restoration project was
abandoned, and Black Star Liner's crew left Jamaica for
good. What had been painstakingly rebuilt in the past year
was dismantled and destroyed by Perry.
In 1981, the Upsetter left Jamaica and spent time in New
York, performing live with a reggae band named The
Terrorists. A few tracks were recorded with the band, but
their relationship did not last. Perry then started jamming
with another New York reggae band, The Majestics. A series
of high profile performances took place, most notably
supporting The Clash in June. Perry then returned to
Jamaica, and soon after The Majestics travelled there as
well to record an album's worth of material at Dynamic
Studios which became Mystic Miracle Star. It seemed that
after two years of confusion, Perry was returning to the
fold. However, disaster was just around the corner.
One morning in 1983, the Black Ark was destroyed.
Fire raged through the concrete structure, the temperature
inside becoming so intense that it eventually blew the roof
off. The studio, the source of some of the most powerful
music ever recorded, lay in ruins.
"The Black Ark was too black and too dread," Perry explains.
"Even though I am black, I have to burn it down, to save my
brain. It was too black. It want to eat me up!"
The fiery destruction of the Black Ark has become a focal
point in the lore surrounding the Upsetter. Although Perry
has claimed many times that he burned the Ark himself in a
fit of frustration, in reality the Black Ark went out not
with a bang, but a series of whimpers. It is unlikely we
will ever know the exact cause of the fire - whether it was
done by Perry's own hand or caused by an electrical problem
- but the destruction of the Black Ark was complete.
Perry spent three days in jail for suspected arson but was
soon released. However, he had nowhere to go.
With his life in Jamaica literally lying in ruins, Perry
spent the next few years in exile, most of them in England.
Although the work that he had done with The Majestics laid
down a blueprint for much of his subsequent work throughout
the decade, during this period Perry cut erratic records of
little consequence. The ridiculous History, Mystery,
Prophecy album was recorded and released in 1983 on Island,
but the Upsetter's already shaky relationship with the label
crumbled when he swore that Island head Chris Blackwell was
a vampire and responsible for Bob Marley's death. In 1984,
Perry met Neil Fraser, better known as Mad Professor, and
started a longtime collaboration with the producer that
continues until present day. Working with London studio
bands, Perry began performing live, and teaming up with one
combo led to the recording of the 1986 album Battle Of
Armagideon (Millionaire Liquidator). The album, full of
undercurrents and surprises, sounded like the reality of
Perry's situation: after years of confusion, the Upsetter
was ready to upset again.
The following year Perry teamed up with the brilliant
English producer Adrian Sherwood and made the dark and
spacious Time Boom X De Devil Dead. Working with Sherwood's
house band Dub Syndicate (in many ways a modern version of
The Upsetters), Time Boom was a digital throwback to Perry's
glory days at the Black Ark. Sherwood's heavy production
style - in many ways heavily reminiscent of Perry's - suited
the Upsetter's vibe perfectly. In 1990, Perry and Sherwood
teamed up again for the fantastic From The Secret
Laboratory, some of the finest work Perry has done since the
days of the Black Ark. The strength of these two albums put
the Upsetter back on his feet for good.
In 1989, Perry stopped roaming the world and moved to
Switzerland with his new bride, Mireille Ruegg, a shrewd
Zurich businesswoman who also became Perry's manager. Far
away from dubious dreads and the chicanery of the Jamaican
music scene, Perry has become a happy family man. He has
fathered two children with Mireille, a son named Gabriel and
a daughter named Shiva. By the mid 1990s, Perry was working
on a new studio for himself in the basement of his Zurich
home, calling it the White Ark - his "secret laboratory"
that "no man has entered before" (well, almost: his wife's
washing machine is down there).
Twenty years after the Black Ark's zenith, the reggae world
saw a Lee Perry renaissance as a new wave of fans embraced
the Upsetter's music, a trend which shows no signs of
slowing down. Spearheaded by the Beastie Boys' excellent
retrospective in their fanzine Grand Royal in 1996, fans and
critics alike have been hipping to Perry's music and making
him (in)famous once again. Record companies have not been
slow to react to the public interest, and a wide variety of
Perry produced collections and albums have been re-released,
culminating in Island's wonderful Arkology in 1997, a Black
Ark anthology lovingly prepared by long time Perry fans
Steve Barrow and David Katz. In April of that year, Perry
surprised everyone by playing two delirious, sold out gigs
in San Francisco - his first American shows in more than 15
years - and later in June played the role of elder statesman
at the alternative Free Tibet concerts in New York. An
extensive tour of America and Europe followed, with more
world-wide performances and re-issues continuing every year
for the rest of the decade and into the new century. This is
the return of the return of the Super Ape...
In June of 2000, David Katz' monumental biography of Perry,
People Funny Boy: The Genius Of Lee "Scratch" Perry was
published. More than 10 years in the making, it gave an
unprecedented account of Perry's life and work. In the words
of the Upsetter himself, "I am the half. The half that's
never been told."
As we enter the 21st century, Lee Perry remains the
proverbial mad scientist, sitting comfortably in his own
moutaintop fortress - a nice family home overlooking Lake
Zurich with a BMW in the driveway. He may visit Earth from
time to time, but he lives in his own universe, which is
every bit as expansive and mysterious as the real thing.
Which brings us to the question that any Lee Perry biography
must ask: is he or isn't he crazy? My own theory is that the
Upsetter is certainly eccentric, but not genuinely insane,
at least by strict psychiatric standards. His looney
behaviour is designed to delight his fans and confound his
enemies. "The Upsetter" is a persona that helps propagate
his legend, and after years of acting out this zany dogma,
he has come to truly believe it, like a director trapped
inside one of his own films. In this case, Lee Perry is
trapped inside one of his songs, a fate which he certainly
must face with a big grin. Combined with this DIY legend
(and no doubt as a result of it) is no shortage of wild
acclaim, and Perry must truly feel like the giant that
critics, fans - and the Upsetter himself - have made him out
to be.
Lee Perry's musical universe is one of angels and vampires,
flying saucers and scatology, mortal enemies and cartoon
characters. Art may imitate life, but for Perry there's no
difference between the two. He literally paints, writes on,
sculpts, films, records, and sings about everything he
encounters. His lyrics encompass a wide variety of
references - the Bible, astrology, Rastafari, ganja, sex,
music, and magic. What - if anything - does it all mean? As
compelling as it might be to decipher all of Perry's
rantings, it would also spoil the fun. Lee Perry's world is
one of a kind, and so when he decides to broadcast messages
to Earth via the recording studio, we should just hold tight
and enjoy the ride, no instruction manual necessary.
"I am a magician. Yes! A magician should do his magic and
then disappear!" Perry sings in the autobiographical
"African Hitchiker", and if any one phrase from his work can
serve as his raison d'être, that's it. As interesting,
entertaining, and fascinating as Lee Perry's life and
personality is, it can almost all be forgotten and replaced
with one simple idea: his music always has - and will -
speak for itself.
http://www.upsetter.net/scratch/bio06.html
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