Legendary Jamaican record producer Niney The Observer argues that it is not trap dancehall that is eroding Jamaica’s music culture but rather decades of exploitation by foreign interests.
“I am in the business too much from before I know the music—I into it,” Niney told World Music Views, recalling his early experiences in the industry.
He described how elements of Jamaican music were often taken without credit. “Mr. Chatterbox is the same way—Bunny Lee take it out and use it back,” he said, referring to the practice of borrowing and repurposing musical ideas.
“When Lee Perry was a newcomer, me and Lee were working. I wasn’t getting the money—Lee was getting the money—but I was the one telling Lee which tune,” he added.
According to Niney, born Winston Holness he and Scratch (Lee Perry) experimented with reversing riddims and changing basslines, a technique that would later influence some of the most iconic reggae tracks.
Niney, who has nine fingers revealed that he deliberately flipped the bassline of Curtis Mayfield’s People Get Ready to create Bob Marley’s One Love. “Curtis never even knew that all those tunes were his when he heard the riddims. But when he started to trace it back, that’s how Bob Marley came to know him.”
“Me buck up Curtis on a plane, and he said, ‘I am looking for a man named Lee Perry and Bob Marley—they took all my songs and turned them backway,'” Niney recalled.
Niney eventually parted ways with Perry and the Destroyer label to launch his own brand, The Observer.
“When I look at Destroyer, you have Lee Perry as Upsetter and Bunny Lee as Integrator, and one day I asked myself, ‘Who am I going to destroy? Myself?’ So, I just left it and took Observer.”
He went on to work with some of Jamaica’s most iconic artists, including Dennis Brown, Michael Rose (Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner), and Ken Boothe (Baby I’m Not Joking).
With a career spanning from the era of one-track recordings to modern reggae, Niney has witnessed firsthand how the genre has been exploited.
“I was in the business from when we only had one track—Tommy McCook, Don Drummond—we recorded on one track while the singer sang, and the master cut was made right then and there.”
He noted that reggae evolved from rocksteady, but its origins are often misunderstood. “The record industry moved into reggae, but nobody knows where it really started from. Bob (Marley) wasn’t too involved in reggae in the early days—that’s why he came with Punky Reggae Party, because he was searching.”
Despite the success of Marley and others, Niney believes Jamaican music has been continuously taken advantage of. “I stand up, and I see reggae get so much advantage (taken advantage of). They know the thing that’s going down is people who take what we have, improvise on that, and rip it off. They take it, do that, and it’s the (Foreign nationality) guys them who was here. They say, ‘We a try help unuh,’ but they never do nothing. They just take it and rip.”
He pointed fingers at local industry powerhouses as well who had influence. “Coxsone Dodd and Duke Reid were the two biggest,” he said, adding that he too was selling “Rat sh*t for black pepper.” Meaning he was influential in the streets in selling Records that were sometimes not up to standard.
With the exception of Third World and Inner Circle, bands have been largely dormant with even recent bands like Raging Fyah and Since Fence no longer doing tours. Meanwhile, the White American band Stick Figure is the No. 1 reggae act in the U.S. for six connective years. Niney said they main reason for this disparity is the lack of access to capital.
“No band survived because those bands were made up of rich men’s sons—they had money to buy instruments and do all kinds of things. But the little things we started as poor youths, those bands couldn’t last long because they weren’t making any money. It was the white boy controlling those bands,” he said.
The Real Culprits
Niney insists that the decline of Jamaican music has nothing to do with today’s dancehall artists.
“Jamaican music, as reggae, is not improving. It’s only going one way. And it’s not the dancehall youth mashing it up—it’s the people who come here, take the music, and bring it to places like Japan and the rest of the world.
“When they come back, they don’t put anything into Jamaica. They don’t say, ‘Hey man, we’re gonna build a school.’ But once the school is built, they take everything they want from it.”
For Niney, the exploitation of Jamaican music is an ongoing cycle—one that has shaped the industry for decades.
He said he had worked on an album by Jimmy Cliff which is yet to be released due to Cliff not being well. He says Shaggy is also on the record but Niney questions, “what gonna be in it (for me)? Because a rip them come fi rip. Whatever come, come, Jimmy Cliff and Shaggy will work it out.”
As for dancehall’s subject matter he says, “The industry can have it under manners because the industry can say those songs not appropriate for the kids them.”
Watch full interview on YouTube:
