Community to mark anniversary of Selassie's ascension in Ethiopia.
By Alva James-Johnson
Staff Writer, Sun Sentinel
Posted November 5 2005
Ras Rainbow was yearning for a glimpse of God when the Ethiopian Emperor Haile Selassie I graced Jamaica with his presence. So at first, he did a double take.
"I was looking for a tall man, but he was short," Rainbow said, recalling the magical moment in 1966 when Selassie got off the plane. "A lot of people said, `How God so little?' But the Rasta said, `Don't worry 'bout that, he's the most powerful man in the world.'"
That was April 21, 1966, when thousands of Rastafarians made the pilgrimage from every corner of the island to witness the arrival of the man they consider "King of Kings, Lord of Lords and Conquering Lion of Judah" at Kingston Airport.
"It was a historic moment to see so many people come to see one person," said Rainbow, of Opa-locka. "It inspired me to come out of certain things. I'm not rich, but now I'm rich in spirit and I try to do my best anywhere I live."
At 61, Rainbow will celebrate another historic event in the Rastafarian community -- the 75th anniversary of Selassie's ascension to the Ethiopian throne, which drew dignitaries from far and wide to the African nation Nov. 2, 1930.
On Sunday, South Florida Rastas will re-enact the king's coronation at the Lauderdale Lakes Multi-purpose Center with a colorful display of royal pageantry. The event will feature seven custom-made symbols of kingship, including replicas of the triple crown of Ethiopia, the sword of Solomon, an imperial scepter and golden globe. Royal white attire is required.
Born Tafari Makonnenin, Selassie claimed to be the direct descendant of the queen of Sheba and King Solomon. He used the title "Ras," meaning prince, which when combined with "Tafari" led to the term "Rastafarian" adopted by his followers.
Haile Selassie means "Power of the Trinity." He never claimed to be God, but Rastafarians have considered him the black Messiah ever since the Jamaican black nationalist Marcus Garvey quoted the Bible as saying, "Princes would come out of Egypt and Ethiopia would stretch forth her hands unto God."
Selassie's reign ended in 1974 during a military coup. He died under house arrest in 1975, but Rastafarians are convinced he still lives.
"We know our flesh comes to stay a certain time, but the spirit in the flesh can never die," Rainbow said. "So we have him alive all the time, because we know his work and his spirit live in us."
While there are no official statistics on the number of Rastafarians living in South Florida, experts say there are thousands and the population is growing.
"This is the second-largest Caribbean community in the United States, so I wouldn't be surprised if it's the second-largest Rasta community," said Ras Michael Barnett, a professor of sociology and anthropology at Florida International University.
Adherents of the faith are mostly known for their knotty dreadlocks, strict vegetarian diets, smoking of ganja (marijuana) and the reggae music made popular by Bob Marley and other Jamaican artists. But Rastafarianism is also a movement that fights against injustice and what Rastafarians consider the "Babylonian" establishment that oppresses the poor and people of African descent.
"Rastafarians have seen religions to be as negative as often as they have been positive," said Don Rico Ricketts, a member of the South Florida Rasta community. "We like to say Rastafari is a way of life because it indicates a wider world view than just the religious world view."
Divided into three main houses or denominations, Rastafarians hold different views on issues ranging from divinity to lifestyle. The branches are: The Twelve Tribes of Israel, the BoboShante House and the Nyahbinghi Order.
Some Rastas attend weekly spiritual gatherings called "binghis" to practice their faith from sundown Friday to sundown Saturday. Others attend binghis only on special occasions to commemorate the birthdays of Garvey and Selassie and also Selassie's coronation and his trip to Jamaica.
Adwa Donovan, 31, lives in a North Lauderdale neighborhood with her boyfriend, Steven Gordon, who she calls her "Kingman."
"When I told my mother I want to be Rasta, she said not in my house," she recalled. "She's a traditional Pentecostal."
But Donovan said devotion to Selassie offered her freedom.
"We don't believe in following doctrine," she explained. "Jah [God] speaks to the heart of all of us."
Alva James-Johnson can be reached at ajjohnson@sun-sentinel.com or 954-356-4523.
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
Judge Not - Buju Banton Has Message Of Love, Hate
Note from REGGAE.com - we would like your thoughts on this one - who is man to judge? Judgement belongs to the Lord - Jah Rastafari!
November 22, 2005
By KENNETH PARTRIDGE, Special to the Courant
Buju Banton says his music, reggae music, is meant to "eradicate negativity from the minds of the people." He also says it's the "voice of God" and the music of the world - a sound designed to free you from shackles and point you in the direction of hope.
That is, of course, unless you're gay, since Banton, like fellow reggae artist Beanie Man, has recently come under fire for singing songs with violently homophobic lyrics. Banton is facing assault charges in Jamaica after the brutal beating of six gay men, a crime he's pleaded not guilty to.
The contradiction implicit in Banton's so-called positive message was on full display Sunday night at Toad's Place in New Haven, greeting concert-goers before they even stepped foot inside the club. Outside on York Street, protesters held signs and chanted, "Hey, hey, ho, ho; homophobia's got to go!" as fans lined up to see the show.
The protest was spearheaded by the Queer Political Action Committee of Yale, and organizer Hugh Baran said he hoped to send a clear message to Toad's.
"This is the first stop in our campaign to get Toad's to pledge never to have artists like Buju Banton," Baran said.
Despite the demonstration, Banton drew a strong crowd. For most of his set, he steered clear of controversy, hopping and twitching wildly across the stage while his dreadlocks swung freely and his voice - an earthy rasp that's part dancehall bark, part roots-reggae croon - was used for uniting, not dividing.
On "Not an Easy Road" and "Hills and Valleys," Banton sang for the oppressed, doubling over on certain lyrics as if their weightiness was weakening his knees. The audience joined in on "Untold Stories," which, with its simple guitar accompaniment, sounded like Bob Marley's "Redemption Song."
By the end of the set, though, Banton was ready to speak out. He ditched the tenderness of "Wanna Be Loved" and went into an unapologetic anti-gay tirade, calling those who could not procreate "heathens" and dismissing the idea of same-sex families.
Distressingly, the crowd seemed largely to support these statements, some fans waving Rastafarian flags and cheering loudly as he spoke. He followed his rant with an encore performance of the song "Love Sponge," though by then it was clear there was only one kind of love he was willing to tolerate, let alone soak into his heart.
November 22, 2005
By KENNETH PARTRIDGE, Special to the Courant
Buju Banton says his music, reggae music, is meant to "eradicate negativity from the minds of the people." He also says it's the "voice of God" and the music of the world - a sound designed to free you from shackles and point you in the direction of hope.
That is, of course, unless you're gay, since Banton, like fellow reggae artist Beanie Man, has recently come under fire for singing songs with violently homophobic lyrics. Banton is facing assault charges in Jamaica after the brutal beating of six gay men, a crime he's pleaded not guilty to.
The contradiction implicit in Banton's so-called positive message was on full display Sunday night at Toad's Place in New Haven, greeting concert-goers before they even stepped foot inside the club. Outside on York Street, protesters held signs and chanted, "Hey, hey, ho, ho; homophobia's got to go!" as fans lined up to see the show.
The protest was spearheaded by the Queer Political Action Committee of Yale, and organizer Hugh Baran said he hoped to send a clear message to Toad's.
"This is the first stop in our campaign to get Toad's to pledge never to have artists like Buju Banton," Baran said.
Despite the demonstration, Banton drew a strong crowd. For most of his set, he steered clear of controversy, hopping and twitching wildly across the stage while his dreadlocks swung freely and his voice - an earthy rasp that's part dancehall bark, part roots-reggae croon - was used for uniting, not dividing.
On "Not an Easy Road" and "Hills and Valleys," Banton sang for the oppressed, doubling over on certain lyrics as if their weightiness was weakening his knees. The audience joined in on "Untold Stories," which, with its simple guitar accompaniment, sounded like Bob Marley's "Redemption Song."
By the end of the set, though, Banton was ready to speak out. He ditched the tenderness of "Wanna Be Loved" and went into an unapologetic anti-gay tirade, calling those who could not procreate "heathens" and dismissing the idea of same-sex families.
Distressingly, the crowd seemed largely to support these statements, some fans waving Rastafarian flags and cheering loudly as he spoke. He followed his rant with an encore performance of the song "Love Sponge," though by then it was clear there was only one kind of love he was willing to tolerate, let alone soak into his heart.
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
BOB MARLEY'S YOUNGEST SON OFFERS THE `ORIGINAL' REGGAE MESSAGE
A rasta without dread
By Jim Harrington
Special to the Mercury News
There are at least a dozen good reasons why a young musician could be nervous about opening large arena shows for the mega-popular U2. Reggae star Damian ``Jr. Gong'' Marley, however, can't think of a single one.
``I don't see why opening for U2 should be a pressure,'' says the 27-year-old vocalist, who will set the stage for the legendary Irish rock band Tuesday and Wednesday at Oakland Coliseum Arena. ``It should be a joy. As an artist, that's what you want -- you want to get exposure like that.''
There's one major reason why Marley might be better equipped to handle pressure than other opening acts: He's spent his entire life dealing with the expectations that come from being the youngest son of Bob Marley and forged his own path in a genre still dominated by his father nearly 25 years after his death.
``There are a lot of bigger pressures in life than being Bob Marley's kid, to tell you the truth,'' says Marley, who will also do two more Bay Area shows, headlining Nov. 14 at the Independent in San Francisco and Nov. 15 at the Catalyst in Santa Cruz. ``In terms of my career, my father has always been a light. If somebody don't know about me, they still know, `OK, this is Bob Marley's kid, and so let me check him out.' ''
Marley's family tree isn't the only reason people are checking out the singer these days. He made a huge splash when his gritty hip-hop-meets-reggae single ``Welcome to Jamrock'' became the surprise radio hit of the summer.
Marley made good on the single's promise with his third full-length CD, also called ``Welcome to Jamrock,'' which made its September debut at No. 7 on the Billboard Top 200 albums chart. That was the highest debut for any reggae album in chart history, displacing Kevin Lyttle's self-titled debut at No. 8 in 2004.
Many of the 84,000 buyers who snatched up ``Welcome to Jamrock'' in its first week of release surely did so on the strength of that dizzying title track. What's particularly notable is that, while it draws from a number of modern urban styles, it also delivers the type of socially conscious message that most likely would have made Marley Sr. proud.
``This is a song that I think came from purely channeling the legacy of Bob Marley,'' says Osha B., host of the reggae show ``Radio Waves'' on KZSC-FM (88.1) in Santa Cruz. ``I'm amazed that it made it to the commercial stations, and MTV and all that. It's a song that speaks to the reality of the Jamaican culture.''
Harsh reality
While brochures for Jamaican resorts would have tourists believe that it's all frozen daiquiris and jet-ski rides, Marley shows with ``Jamrock'' that most Jamaicans face a harsher reality. ``What `Jamrock' is doing is exposing a different side of Jamaica that the tourist board don't expose,'' he says by phone from Miami. ``It's speaking about what average citizens live. There's not a lot of opportunity there for the younger generation coming up. If you don't sing or have some musical talent, for the most part you have to turn to a life of crime.''
Musical talent wasn't lacking in the Marley household. Damian and many of his siblings -- notably half-brothers Ziggy and Stephen -- showed interest in and aptitude for music at a very early age. ``I have photos of myself in Pampers with the guitar,'' Marley remembers with a laugh. ``We used to do little performances in our living room, when there were get-togethers. We'd throw on records and sing to the records and dance.''
The family living room proved a powerful training ground. Ziggy Marley, the oldest brother, was the first to rise out of his father's shadow with his backing band, the Melody Makers. He achieved stardom with the hit single ``Tomorrow People'' in 1988. Stephen Marley, an original member of the Melody Makers, served as a producer, songwriter and studio musician on the ``Jamrock'' CD. Many in the music industry are expecting big things from this Marley brother, who has recently released his own debut CD, ``Got Music?''
``The next guy to look out for is Stephen Marley,'' says Osha B. ``He's sort of the hidden star on `Jamrock.' The underground circles really like him. He's really channeling a Bob Marley thing.''
Success overdue
Tomorrow may belong to Stephen Marley, but Damian Marley's time appears to be right now. And some would say that it's overdue. The singer made his public performance debut in 1989 as a member of the Shepherds. He stayed with that group for a few years before launching his solo career.
His debut CD, ``Mr. Marley'' (1996) was acclaimed critically. The follow-up, ``Halfway Tree,'' which marked his entry into the U.S. market, hit stores in 2001. Though cheered by reviewers, it failed to garner a sizable mainstream audience. ``Welcome to Jamrock'' changed that as it infiltrated urban radio and attracted hip-hop listeners.
Still, Marley has taken some shots from reggae purists who don't approve of his use of non-Jamaican street beats. Marley counters, ``When you check my lyrics and what my songs are about, they are the original, authentic style of reggae, in terms of the message. You have a lot of people who have songs on reggae rhythms, but the message of what they are saying is not the original reggae. What I'm saying is the original reggae, even though my beats might have different influences. Where I might lose some of the original flavor on one side, I gain it on the other.''
Damian `Jr. Gong' MarleyOpening for U2
Where Oakland Coliseum Arena, Interstate 880 and Hegenberger Road
When 7:30 p.m. Tuesday-Wednesday
Tickets $52-$168
Call (408) 998-8497, or see www.ticketmaster.com
Also As headliner, 9 p.m. Nov. 14, the Independent, 628 Divisadero St., San Francisco, $23-$25, (866) 468-3399, www.ticketweb.com. And 8 p.m. Nov. 15, the Catalyst, 1011 Pacific Ave., Santa Cruz, $23-$26, (831) 423-1338, www.catalystclub.com
By Jim Harrington
Special to the Mercury News
There are at least a dozen good reasons why a young musician could be nervous about opening large arena shows for the mega-popular U2. Reggae star Damian ``Jr. Gong'' Marley, however, can't think of a single one.
``I don't see why opening for U2 should be a pressure,'' says the 27-year-old vocalist, who will set the stage for the legendary Irish rock band Tuesday and Wednesday at Oakland Coliseum Arena. ``It should be a joy. As an artist, that's what you want -- you want to get exposure like that.''
There's one major reason why Marley might be better equipped to handle pressure than other opening acts: He's spent his entire life dealing with the expectations that come from being the youngest son of Bob Marley and forged his own path in a genre still dominated by his father nearly 25 years after his death.
``There are a lot of bigger pressures in life than being Bob Marley's kid, to tell you the truth,'' says Marley, who will also do two more Bay Area shows, headlining Nov. 14 at the Independent in San Francisco and Nov. 15 at the Catalyst in Santa Cruz. ``In terms of my career, my father has always been a light. If somebody don't know about me, they still know, `OK, this is Bob Marley's kid, and so let me check him out.' ''
Marley's family tree isn't the only reason people are checking out the singer these days. He made a huge splash when his gritty hip-hop-meets-reggae single ``Welcome to Jamrock'' became the surprise radio hit of the summer.
Marley made good on the single's promise with his third full-length CD, also called ``Welcome to Jamrock,'' which made its September debut at No. 7 on the Billboard Top 200 albums chart. That was the highest debut for any reggae album in chart history, displacing Kevin Lyttle's self-titled debut at No. 8 in 2004.
Many of the 84,000 buyers who snatched up ``Welcome to Jamrock'' in its first week of release surely did so on the strength of that dizzying title track. What's particularly notable is that, while it draws from a number of modern urban styles, it also delivers the type of socially conscious message that most likely would have made Marley Sr. proud.
``This is a song that I think came from purely channeling the legacy of Bob Marley,'' says Osha B., host of the reggae show ``Radio Waves'' on KZSC-FM (88.1) in Santa Cruz. ``I'm amazed that it made it to the commercial stations, and MTV and all that. It's a song that speaks to the reality of the Jamaican culture.''
Harsh reality
While brochures for Jamaican resorts would have tourists believe that it's all frozen daiquiris and jet-ski rides, Marley shows with ``Jamrock'' that most Jamaicans face a harsher reality. ``What `Jamrock' is doing is exposing a different side of Jamaica that the tourist board don't expose,'' he says by phone from Miami. ``It's speaking about what average citizens live. There's not a lot of opportunity there for the younger generation coming up. If you don't sing or have some musical talent, for the most part you have to turn to a life of crime.''
Musical talent wasn't lacking in the Marley household. Damian and many of his siblings -- notably half-brothers Ziggy and Stephen -- showed interest in and aptitude for music at a very early age. ``I have photos of myself in Pampers with the guitar,'' Marley remembers with a laugh. ``We used to do little performances in our living room, when there were get-togethers. We'd throw on records and sing to the records and dance.''
The family living room proved a powerful training ground. Ziggy Marley, the oldest brother, was the first to rise out of his father's shadow with his backing band, the Melody Makers. He achieved stardom with the hit single ``Tomorrow People'' in 1988. Stephen Marley, an original member of the Melody Makers, served as a producer, songwriter and studio musician on the ``Jamrock'' CD. Many in the music industry are expecting big things from this Marley brother, who has recently released his own debut CD, ``Got Music?''
``The next guy to look out for is Stephen Marley,'' says Osha B. ``He's sort of the hidden star on `Jamrock.' The underground circles really like him. He's really channeling a Bob Marley thing.''
Success overdue
Tomorrow may belong to Stephen Marley, but Damian Marley's time appears to be right now. And some would say that it's overdue. The singer made his public performance debut in 1989 as a member of the Shepherds. He stayed with that group for a few years before launching his solo career.
His debut CD, ``Mr. Marley'' (1996) was acclaimed critically. The follow-up, ``Halfway Tree,'' which marked his entry into the U.S. market, hit stores in 2001. Though cheered by reviewers, it failed to garner a sizable mainstream audience. ``Welcome to Jamrock'' changed that as it infiltrated urban radio and attracted hip-hop listeners.
Still, Marley has taken some shots from reggae purists who don't approve of his use of non-Jamaican street beats. Marley counters, ``When you check my lyrics and what my songs are about, they are the original, authentic style of reggae, in terms of the message. You have a lot of people who have songs on reggae rhythms, but the message of what they are saying is not the original reggae. What I'm saying is the original reggae, even though my beats might have different influences. Where I might lose some of the original flavor on one side, I gain it on the other.''
Damian `Jr. Gong' MarleyOpening for U2
Where Oakland Coliseum Arena, Interstate 880 and Hegenberger Road
When 7:30 p.m. Tuesday-Wednesday
Tickets $52-$168
Call (408) 998-8497, or see www.ticketmaster.com
Also As headliner, 9 p.m. Nov. 14, the Independent, 628 Divisadero St., San Francisco, $23-$25, (866) 468-3399, www.ticketweb.com. And 8 p.m. Nov. 15, the Catalyst, 1011 Pacific Ave., Santa Cruz, $23-$26, (831) 423-1338, www.catalystclub.com
Sunday, November 06, 2005
Past, Present, and Future with Burning Spear
Feature Article/Interview - Our Music: Past, Present, and Future with
Burning Spear
By Douglas Heselgrave
"Changes in the music are no threat to Burning Spear. When I say that,it's because I'm dealing with something totally different than most people are dealing with in this time. Y'understand?"
In the thirty-six years between his chance meeting with Bob Marley on a country road in St. Ann's, Jamaica and this month's release of his new album Our Music, Winston Rodney, a.k.a. Burning Spear, has seen reggae experience a lot of growth and change. Styles have come and gone, and Spear's unique brand of roots-oriented reggae has moved in and out of fashion. Through it all, with a singularity of purpose that is staggering, Burning Spear has released dozens of albums, toured the world many times over, and played before more audiences than anyone else in the history of the genre. Indeed, if Bob Marley was the first artist to bring reggae to the attention of international audiences, Burning Spear's relentless recording and touring have kept it there.
Much to the music industry's surprise, recent dub and dance hall hits have made reggae trendy again, and the release of Our Music couldn't have come at a better time. Beautifully played, mixed, and engineered, the disc sounds more like classic '70s fare than anything that Burning Spear has released in well over a decade. Each track bubbles with heavy bass, reverb, and organ, and each contains the emphatic echo of the incomparable Burning Brass horn section as well as a melody for which any DJ surely would die to obtain. With Our Music, Spear has delivered a collection of songs that serves to remind the listener just how powerful a force reggae can be.
A lot of water has passed under the bridge musically, politically, and technologically, since a self-described "young and green" Spear walked into Studio One, the legendary Jamaican hit factory, and recorded Door Peep, his first single. Speaking from the perspective of pre-retirement, Spear muses reflectively on music, religion, politics, and his unique place in the history of reggae. In Spear's words, "You can count on your fingers how many people today know and can play that 1970s sound." Of the handful of artists who remain from reggae's golden age -- such as Jimmy Cliff, Culture, and the Mighty Diamonds -- Burning Spear is the only one who records and tours with any semblance of regularity.
This is an excerpt. To read the complete article, please visit:
http://www.musicbox-online.com/bspr-int.html
Burning Spear
By Douglas Heselgrave
"Changes in the music are no threat to Burning Spear. When I say that,it's because I'm dealing with something totally different than most people are dealing with in this time. Y'understand?"
In the thirty-six years between his chance meeting with Bob Marley on a country road in St. Ann's, Jamaica and this month's release of his new album Our Music, Winston Rodney, a.k.a. Burning Spear, has seen reggae experience a lot of growth and change. Styles have come and gone, and Spear's unique brand of roots-oriented reggae has moved in and out of fashion. Through it all, with a singularity of purpose that is staggering, Burning Spear has released dozens of albums, toured the world many times over, and played before more audiences than anyone else in the history of the genre. Indeed, if Bob Marley was the first artist to bring reggae to the attention of international audiences, Burning Spear's relentless recording and touring have kept it there.
Much to the music industry's surprise, recent dub and dance hall hits have made reggae trendy again, and the release of Our Music couldn't have come at a better time. Beautifully played, mixed, and engineered, the disc sounds more like classic '70s fare than anything that Burning Spear has released in well over a decade. Each track bubbles with heavy bass, reverb, and organ, and each contains the emphatic echo of the incomparable Burning Brass horn section as well as a melody for which any DJ surely would die to obtain. With Our Music, Spear has delivered a collection of songs that serves to remind the listener just how powerful a force reggae can be.
A lot of water has passed under the bridge musically, politically, and technologically, since a self-described "young and green" Spear walked into Studio One, the legendary Jamaican hit factory, and recorded Door Peep, his first single. Speaking from the perspective of pre-retirement, Spear muses reflectively on music, religion, politics, and his unique place in the history of reggae. In Spear's words, "You can count on your fingers how many people today know and can play that 1970s sound." Of the handful of artists who remain from reggae's golden age -- such as Jimmy Cliff, Culture, and the Mighty Diamonds -- Burning Spear is the only one who records and tours with any semblance of regularity.
This is an excerpt. To read the complete article, please visit:
http://www.musicbox-online.com/bspr-int.html
Rastas to honor `Lion of Judah'
Community to mark anniversary of Selassie's ascension in Ethiopia.
By Alva James-Johnson
Staff Writer
Posted November 5 2005
Ras Rainbow was yearning for a glimpse of God when the Ethiopian Emperor Haile Selassie I graced Jamaica with his presence. So at first, he did a double take.
"I was looking for a tall man, but he was short," Rainbow said, recalling the magical moment in 1966 when Selassie got off the plane. "A lot of people said, `How God so little?' But the Rasta said, `Don't worry 'bout that, he's the most powerful man in the world.'"
That was April 21, 1966, when thousands of Rastafarians made the pilgrimage from every corner of the island to witness the arrival of the man they consider "King of Kings, Lord of Lords and Conquering Lion of Judah" at Kingston Airport.
"It was a historic moment to see so many people come to see one person," said Rainbow, of Opa-locka. "It inspired me to come out of certain things. I'm not rich, but now I'm rich in spirit and I try to do my best anywhere I live."
At 61, Rainbow will celebrate another historic event in the Rastafarian community -- the 75th anniversary of Selassie's ascension to the Ethiopian throne, which drew dignitaries from far and wide to the African nation Nov. 2, 1930.
On Sunday, South Florida Rastas will re-enact the king's coronation at the Lauderdale Lakes Multi-purpose Center with a colorful display of royal pageantry. The event will feature seven custom-made symbols of kingship, including replicas of the triple crown of Ethiopia, the sword of Solomon, an imperial scepter and golden globe. Royal white attire is required.
Born Tafari Makonnenin, Selassie claimed to be the direct descendant of the queen of Sheba and King Solomon. He used the title "Ras," meaning prince, which when combined with "Tafari" led to the term "Rastafarian" adopted by his followers.
Haile Selassie means "Power of the Trinity." He never claimed to be God, but Rastafarians have considered him the black Messiah ever since the Jamaican black nationalist Marcus Garvey quoted the Bible as saying, "Princes would come out of Egypt and Ethiopia would stretch forth her hands unto God."
Selassie's reign ended in 1974 during a military coup. He died under house arrest in 1975, but Rastafarians are convinced he still lives.
"We know our flesh comes to stay a certain time, but the spirit in the flesh can never die," Rainbow said. "So we have him alive all the time, because we know his work and his spirit live in us."
While there are no official statistics on the number of Rastafarians living in South Florida, experts say there are thousands and the population is growing.
"This is the second-largest Caribbean community in the United States, so I wouldn't be surprised if it's the second-largest Rasta community," said Ras Michael Barnett, a professor of sociology and anthropology at Florida International University.
Adherents of the faith are mostly known for their knotty dreadlocks, strict vegetarian diets, smoking of ganja (marijuana) and the reggae music made popular by Bob Marley and other Jamaican artists. But Rastafarianism is also a movement that fights against injustice and what Rastafarians consider the "Babylonian" establishment that oppresses the poor and people of African descent.
"Rastafarians have seen religions to be as negative as often as they have been positive," said Don Rico Ricketts, a member of the South Florida Rasta community. "We like to say Rastafari is a way of life because it indicates a wider world view than just the religious world view."
Divided into three main houses or denominations, Rastafarians hold different views on issues ranging from divinity to lifestyle. The branches are: The Twelve Tribes of Israel, the BoboShante House and the Nyahbinghi Order.
Some Rastas attend weekly spiritual gatherings called "binghis" to practice their faith from sundown Friday to sundown Saturday. Others attend binghis only on special occasions to commemorate the birthdays of Garvey and Selassie and also Selassie's coronation and his trip to Jamaica.
Adwa Donovan, 31, lives in a North Lauderdale neighborhood with her boyfriend, Steven Gordon, who she calls her "Kingman."
"When I told my mother I want to be Rasta, she said not in my house," she recalled. "She's a traditional Pentecostal."
But Donovan said devotion to Selassie offered her freedom.
"We don't believe in following doctrine," she explained. "Jah [God] speaks to the heart of all of us."
Alva James-Johnson can be reached at ajjohnson@sun-sentinel.com or 954-356-4523.
By Alva James-Johnson
Staff Writer
Posted November 5 2005
Ras Rainbow was yearning for a glimpse of God when the Ethiopian Emperor Haile Selassie I graced Jamaica with his presence. So at first, he did a double take.
"I was looking for a tall man, but he was short," Rainbow said, recalling the magical moment in 1966 when Selassie got off the plane. "A lot of people said, `How God so little?' But the Rasta said, `Don't worry 'bout that, he's the most powerful man in the world.'"
That was April 21, 1966, when thousands of Rastafarians made the pilgrimage from every corner of the island to witness the arrival of the man they consider "King of Kings, Lord of Lords and Conquering Lion of Judah" at Kingston Airport.
"It was a historic moment to see so many people come to see one person," said Rainbow, of Opa-locka. "It inspired me to come out of certain things. I'm not rich, but now I'm rich in spirit and I try to do my best anywhere I live."
At 61, Rainbow will celebrate another historic event in the Rastafarian community -- the 75th anniversary of Selassie's ascension to the Ethiopian throne, which drew dignitaries from far and wide to the African nation Nov. 2, 1930.
On Sunday, South Florida Rastas will re-enact the king's coronation at the Lauderdale Lakes Multi-purpose Center with a colorful display of royal pageantry. The event will feature seven custom-made symbols of kingship, including replicas of the triple crown of Ethiopia, the sword of Solomon, an imperial scepter and golden globe. Royal white attire is required.
Born Tafari Makonnenin, Selassie claimed to be the direct descendant of the queen of Sheba and King Solomon. He used the title "Ras," meaning prince, which when combined with "Tafari" led to the term "Rastafarian" adopted by his followers.
Haile Selassie means "Power of the Trinity." He never claimed to be God, but Rastafarians have considered him the black Messiah ever since the Jamaican black nationalist Marcus Garvey quoted the Bible as saying, "Princes would come out of Egypt and Ethiopia would stretch forth her hands unto God."
Selassie's reign ended in 1974 during a military coup. He died under house arrest in 1975, but Rastafarians are convinced he still lives.
"We know our flesh comes to stay a certain time, but the spirit in the flesh can never die," Rainbow said. "So we have him alive all the time, because we know his work and his spirit live in us."
While there are no official statistics on the number of Rastafarians living in South Florida, experts say there are thousands and the population is growing.
"This is the second-largest Caribbean community in the United States, so I wouldn't be surprised if it's the second-largest Rasta community," said Ras Michael Barnett, a professor of sociology and anthropology at Florida International University.
Adherents of the faith are mostly known for their knotty dreadlocks, strict vegetarian diets, smoking of ganja (marijuana) and the reggae music made popular by Bob Marley and other Jamaican artists. But Rastafarianism is also a movement that fights against injustice and what Rastafarians consider the "Babylonian" establishment that oppresses the poor and people of African descent.
"Rastafarians have seen religions to be as negative as often as they have been positive," said Don Rico Ricketts, a member of the South Florida Rasta community. "We like to say Rastafari is a way of life because it indicates a wider world view than just the religious world view."
Divided into three main houses or denominations, Rastafarians hold different views on issues ranging from divinity to lifestyle. The branches are: The Twelve Tribes of Israel, the BoboShante House and the Nyahbinghi Order.
Some Rastas attend weekly spiritual gatherings called "binghis" to practice their faith from sundown Friday to sundown Saturday. Others attend binghis only on special occasions to commemorate the birthdays of Garvey and Selassie and also Selassie's coronation and his trip to Jamaica.
Adwa Donovan, 31, lives in a North Lauderdale neighborhood with her boyfriend, Steven Gordon, who she calls her "Kingman."
"When I told my mother I want to be Rasta, she said not in my house," she recalled. "She's a traditional Pentecostal."
But Donovan said devotion to Selassie offered her freedom.
"We don't believe in following doctrine," she explained. "Jah [God] speaks to the heart of all of us."
Alva James-Johnson can be reached at ajjohnson@sun-sentinel.com or 954-356-4523.
Bob's Son Fuels Conscious Reggae's Rebirth
Damian Marley
Welcome to Jamrock(Tuff Gong/Ghetto Youth/Universal)
By: Jeff Chang
November 1, 2005
Welcome to Jamrock may be the best album any son of Bob Marley has ever made. Yet it labors under an almost unbearable burden -- his father's massive legacy. How does one break from a tradition when it's part of the family inheritance?
The record opens with an outsized spectacle. A Rastafarian royal drum booms, Bunny Wailer, Haile Selassie, and Marcus Garvey issue urgent calls, and Wagnerian strings blast while the 27-year-old Marley evokes his own generation's uprising: "Searching for the sign, and the sign is us / Searching for the truth, all you find is us." The inescapable title track is built from an Ini Kamoze/Sly and Robbie riddim made after Bob's death, and it succinctly revisits the themes of Damian's 1999 breakthrough, "More Justice": "To see the sufferation sick me / Dem suit nuh fit me." Unlike his tenement-yard-raised father, the youngest Marley is an Uptown rebel with sympathies for the downtrodden, a Che Guevara for a Viacom world if he wants to be.
Or perhaps he is just the next global pop hero, a phenomenon his father made possible. Damian continues to re-version the Wailers' catalog with half-brother Stephen on "Move!," a surprisingly solid update of "Exodus," and the samba-ized "Pimpa's Paradise." He has other models, too. The ska-flavored "All Night" nods to crossover king Shaggy. With Eek-A-Mouse and Bounty Killer aboard, "Khaki Suit" rewinds late-'70s/early-'80s Channel One dancehall. In the bloodline-roots style of the Melody Makers or Morgan Heritage, "We're Gonna Make It" throws a socially conscious party -- and just in time, considering that Jamaica's fickle winds are again favoring the tradition of I Wayne over Elephant Man. But the neo-ragga pop of "Hey Girl" cools Damian's characteristic exuberance into the bland efficiency of a Rihanna or Rupee.
In a 21st-century world of reggae no longer dominated by one voice, versatility may be a virtue. But when Nas effortlessly steals "Road to Zion," it's clear that Damian doesn't yet possess his father's force of personality. He sounds more in his element on "There for You," a sweet, understated affirmation of familial love. Welcome to Jamrock does not herald a new generation’s Athenian arrival. Yet, only from a Marley might we expect such an achievement, when a very good album is enough.
Launch Damian Marley Jamrock Media Player
Welcome to Jamrock(Tuff Gong/Ghetto Youth/Universal)
By: Jeff Chang
November 1, 2005
Welcome to Jamrock may be the best album any son of Bob Marley has ever made. Yet it labors under an almost unbearable burden -- his father's massive legacy. How does one break from a tradition when it's part of the family inheritance?
The record opens with an outsized spectacle. A Rastafarian royal drum booms, Bunny Wailer, Haile Selassie, and Marcus Garvey issue urgent calls, and Wagnerian strings blast while the 27-year-old Marley evokes his own generation's uprising: "Searching for the sign, and the sign is us / Searching for the truth, all you find is us." The inescapable title track is built from an Ini Kamoze/Sly and Robbie riddim made after Bob's death, and it succinctly revisits the themes of Damian's 1999 breakthrough, "More Justice": "To see the sufferation sick me / Dem suit nuh fit me." Unlike his tenement-yard-raised father, the youngest Marley is an Uptown rebel with sympathies for the downtrodden, a Che Guevara for a Viacom world if he wants to be.
Or perhaps he is just the next global pop hero, a phenomenon his father made possible. Damian continues to re-version the Wailers' catalog with half-brother Stephen on "Move!," a surprisingly solid update of "Exodus," and the samba-ized "Pimpa's Paradise." He has other models, too. The ska-flavored "All Night" nods to crossover king Shaggy. With Eek-A-Mouse and Bounty Killer aboard, "Khaki Suit" rewinds late-'70s/early-'80s Channel One dancehall. In the bloodline-roots style of the Melody Makers or Morgan Heritage, "We're Gonna Make It" throws a socially conscious party -- and just in time, considering that Jamaica's fickle winds are again favoring the tradition of I Wayne over Elephant Man. But the neo-ragga pop of "Hey Girl" cools Damian's characteristic exuberance into the bland efficiency of a Rihanna or Rupee.
In a 21st-century world of reggae no longer dominated by one voice, versatility may be a virtue. But when Nas effortlessly steals "Road to Zion," it's clear that Damian doesn't yet possess his father's force of personality. He sounds more in his element on "There for You," a sweet, understated affirmation of familial love. Welcome to Jamrock does not herald a new generation’s Athenian arrival. Yet, only from a Marley might we expect such an achievement, when a very good album is enough.
Launch Damian Marley Jamrock Media Player
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