In 1973, Hip-Hop was born. Jamaican, NY-based DJ Kool Herc revolutionized music in the recreation center of his Brooklyn apartment when he inadvertently created the seminal genre. Over the next 50 years, Hip-Hop spread across the United States and the rest of the world. Different regions came up with different variants. The southern USA created trap music; Chicago made drill music; the UK built grime music; etc. Hip-Hop has even spread to Asia where rappers are combining conventional rap flows and aesthetics with traditional folk music.
But, what about Jamaica? Hip-Hop was born out of the synthesis of funk, R&B, and Jamaican sound system techniques. While Jamaica is known for reggae, dancehall, and dub, Jamaican Hip-Hop has been quietly simmering below the surface, innovated and kept alive by a tight-knit community of rappers, singers, and producers.
What is Jamaican Hip-Hop?
Jamaican Hip-Hop is a combination of existing styles with a patois flair. The music focuses on everyday life in Jamaica – from having fun, to struggling to make ends meet. Fyah Roiall, one of the scene’s prominent rappers, has coined the term ‘Grimehall’ alluding to the combination of UK grime with Jamaican dancehall.
Roiall is quick to point out that genre distinctions get murky. “Personally… I wouldn’t say there’s much of a separation,” explained Roiall, trying to pick apart the differences between Hip-Hop and dancehall. “Me would more say there’s a well made bridge for the gap. There’s an appreciation for Hip-Hop, UK grime, drill…and dancehall.”
This is further complicated by dancehall and reggae artists adopting more rapping mannerisms and vice versa. Kabaka Pyramid, the most recent winner of the Grammy award for Best Reggae Album (the Grammys does not differentiate reggae, dancehall, etc.), has publicly talked about how American rap/Hip-Hop was as pivotal in his music education as Jamaican reggae.
“[Jamaican Hip-Hop] is an understanding of all these sounds — reggae, dancehall, Hip-Hop, etc. — and what makes each of them beautiful, and then we find ways to put all of them together,” explained Roiall, distilling the essence of the emerging genre.
“The goal shouldn’t be to separate them. In all honesty there’s no separation. We’re all rappers, we just a do it in our own language, using our own lingo, in our own terminology. It’s one music, we’re all doing same thing over different beats.”
Who is Fyah Roiall?
Fyah Roiall is in the middle of planning a breakthrough tour in the United States. He’s hush-hush about dates at this point, but he’s excited after a successful tour in Australia in 2019. “First countrywide tour. Me alone being on a show could pull in 4500 people,” he boasted. “Things are happening outside of Jamaica, the doors are there to be open.”
Roiall, born Brandon Wedderburn, had the music bug “from jump.” Freshly 30, Roiall grew up on a steady diet of BET, MTV, and VH1 Soul. “I could comfortably say I knew every song on the radio,” he laughed. “It helped me fall in love with music. Everything was about individuality, about being yourself and bringing yourself [to the audience] in the purest form.”
Roiall stressed that he didn’t choose a genre or lane, but instead always prioritized his interests. “Me no want sing ‘bout something because is a trend or because it work for that bredda deh last week. I want to sing what’s on my mind and hopefully that comes through in the music.”
Jamaica’s New Underground Hip-Hop
The biggest opposition to Jamaican Hip-Hop is perception. According to Roiall, there’s an image in many Jamaicans’ heads about what Jamaican music should be. “We’re here, we exist in the space. Is just a matter of, what me would a say,” Roiall pauses and chooses his words carefully. “There’s a mental block against the idea of a Jamaican doing any form of alternative music outside of dancehall.”
The comparison to dancehall is apt. Dancehall faced many of the same obstacles before becoming a pillar of the Jamaican music industry. Critics looked at the lyrical content or all the ways the genre wasn’t reggae and ignored its strengths.
“A selector will play a track by a famous American rapper, but will be reluctant to play a Jamaican rapper even if the music is at equal quality or even above…” Roiall explained. “The whole world want see Bob Marley again; Sean Paul over and over again. If you’re not these things then you’re not being Jamaican.”
He believes that for attitudes to truly shift, a Jamaican rapper needs to have a breakout career. Not only will this open up a path to mainstream acclaim, but show aspiring artists that Jamaican sound can be anything.
Jamaican Hip-Hop’s thriving community of creatives
Fyah Roiall graciously accepted to be our guide into this under-discussed genre and is quick to shout out his peers. He cedes that discovery is an issue — standing out as an artist in the digital age has proven increasingly difficult. Artists now have to compete with the entire world for listens. To make matters worse, there’s been no Jamaican Hip-Hop focused events since COVID quarantine.
“But from you find one, you find all,” Roiall explained. There’s at most one degree of separation from artist to artist, and each is eager to collaborate and engage. “It’s a network. Everybody follow each other. Share each other’s stuff. There’s a lot of us.”
The dream is to see the genre finally break into the mainstream. “Billboard for real for real. Not just trending on Youtube or hot pon TikTok,” he stated. Roiall feels like they’re knocking on the door. Recently the artist was acknowledged by one of his idols, dancehall royalty Aidonia. “Him reach out to me and tell me say him see what a gwaan,” he gushed. “One of the most mind blowing things weh happen to me in music. Me remember being a 12-year-old a watch him debut on TV… Years later him acknowledge me, that’s a moment me gone always remember.”
Notable Jamaican Hip-Hop Acts
Here are some of the notable Hip-Hop artists Roiall advised us of and some others we unearthed while exploring the Jamaican Hip-Hop inspired underground…
Complex Ricki
Complex Ricki can rattle off complex rhyming schemes with the best of them yet always remains in rhythm. As versatile as she is talented, Ricki can go from rapping to singing and back, sometimes on the same track.
Cashh
Jamaica-born and raised and London-based, Cashh is making waves on the international scene with his unique cadence which blends all aspects of his culture born, and inherited. On “Fashionista” you’ll hear the talented lyricist tap into a dancehall flow while on “Miggle of the Night,” Cashh makes liberal use of UK slang.
Baker Steez
Bakersteez masterfully strikes a harmonious and impactful equilibrium that encapsulates the prevailing, contemporary vibes of both hip-hop and dancehall genres. In a remarkably brief span of two years, the passionate 28-year-old artist has skyrocketed to fame within his country’s music scene. Right from the outset, his exceptional skill in seamlessly blending American lingo with Jamaican patois has given rise to a musical style that has captivated the curiosity of countless listeners. Interestingly, Steez embodies a unique fusion; originally named Daniel Simpson, he was born in Kingston, Jamaica, and subsequently relocated to Hollywood, Florida at the age of 11 where he was schooled in American hip-hop.
The Council: Nomad Carlos, Five Steez & The Sickest Drama
The Council is Jamaica’s first rap group comprising of three members, Nomad Carlos, Five Steez & The Sickest Drama. Brought together by their love of hip hop they started the First Coast Movement — a movement to reconnect Hip Hop’s earliest expressions to the Jamaican sound system where is all started. Fyah Roiall directed and edited The Sickest Drama’s latest music video lending more credence to how underground this movement truly is.
