This past weekend, Jamaica and the global reggae fraternity paused to bid farewell to Sly Dunbar, one of the musical architects of reggae, ska, and dancehall. The Celebration of Life for the legendary drummer was organized by Culture Minister Olivia ‘Babsy’ Grange.
Grange fittingly described Dunbar as “one of the best drummers ever.” That praise was not ceremonial hyperbole. It was, indeed, fact.
Dunbar, one half of the legendary rhythm section Sly & Robbie, passed away on January 26 in Kingston. The duo’s iconic drum-and-bass blueprint powered thousands of recordings—from roots reggae to dancehall, from dub to international pop crossovers—across Jamaica, the UK, Europe, Africa, and North America.
Sly’s funeral at the Cathedral of the Most Holy Trinity was a historic gathering of musical royalty, cultural icons, politicians, and generations of artists whose lives were touched by his drumbeat. Among those paying respects to the fallen reggae soldier were Chris Blackwell; Mark Golding; Herbie Miller; Maxi Priest; Tarrus Riley; Nadine Sutherland; Chevelle Franklin; Leba Hibbert; Bitty McLean; Luciano; Busy Signal; Lloyd Parks; Dean Fraser; Earl ‘Chinna’ Smith; Steven ‘Lenky’ Marsden; Robbie Lyn; Bongo Herman; Bounty Killer; Mikey Chung; and Danny Browne, along with Dunbar’s daughter Natasha, his widow Thelma Dunbar, and his sister Norma Dunbar.
Amid the many performances, Bitty McLean delivered a haunting rendition of Walk Away From Love, his reggae interpretation of the 1975 Motown classic originally recorded by David Ruffin. The song, a fan favorite in McLean’s catalogue, took on new emotional meaning within the sacred space of Dunbar’s farewell.
Capturing every moment was U.S.-based, Jamaican-born photojournalist Steve James, who has become something of a quiet historian of reggae’s historic milestones.
“This was my first time seeing Bitty perform, though I have been watching him perform on YouTube and video clips from even before his big hit. His performance was simply outstanding,” James told Caribbean National Weekly.
What many—including myself—did not realize until the funeral was that Sly & Robbie had co-produced McLean’s version of the song. That realization transformed the performance from tribute to full-circle testimony. Here was a singer interpreting a song that Dunbar had helped shape, now offering it as a goodbye to the very architect of its reggae heartbeat. The symbolism was powerful. McLean used the moment as a living testament to Dunbar’s enduring musical touch.
“It was his first time performing in Jamaica, so for those seeing him for the first time it was a pleasure, and they showed him love. It is no surprise why Sly and Robbie took him under their wings,” James added.
McLean’s performance at the funeral sparked another reflection.
Despite his substantial catalogue and strong following in Europe, McLean has rarely performed in the United States, particularly in the tri-state area and other Northeast states—regions with vibrant Jamaican and Caribbean diasporas and a deep appreciation for roots and lovers rock music.
Why McLean has rarely performed there remains an open question. Is it his busy touring commitments in the UK? Scheduling conflicts? Are his performing fees too high for North American reggae promoters, or is there a miscalculation about audience demand?
McLean’s body of work—including hits like It Keeps Rainin’ (Tears from My Eyes) and his lovers rock interpretations—has long resonated with mature reggae audiences globally. Yet his live appearances stateside remain scarce. For promoters and fans alike, it remains a lingering question. Given what I know, there is a market for McLean. And as his performance at Dunbar’s service proved, there is still undeniable power.
Back at the funeral, Dunbar’s influence extended far beyond the drum kit. His innovative “rockers” style reshaped reggae’s rhythmic structure, while his early experimentation with drum machines helped push dancehall into a new era. His work included collaborations with Peter Tosh, Black Uhuru, and international acts such as No Doubt, as well as Jamaican stars Bounty Killer and Lady Saw.
The Celebration of Life served as a reminder that reggae is more than music—it is community and cultural memory. Thanks to James’s photography and the vision of those who curated the musical tributes, moments like McLean’s performance will endure as part of that archive.
“Locally we don’t do so well with documentation,” James explained. “We wait until someone from overseas comes and shows us what they have. A lot of information is usually expressed at funerals by friends and loved ones and in the eulogy. I try to capture everything from start to finish to tell a story. Even the program sometimes has valuable information or photos that not many have seen or heard.”
Rest in eternal power, Sly Dunbar. Your rhythms traveled the world. Your work was worthy. Your legacy is eternal.
