Where: New York / Los Angeles (by phone)
When: March 21, 2026
Reporter: Stephen Cooper
Photos: Courtesy of Beth Lesser (Jah Life, Papa Michigan, Percy Chin), and the respective record companies (labels/sleeves)
Copyright:  2026 – Stephen Cooper

JAH LIFE: “I WOULD START OUT WITH THE INTRO—A PUNCHLINE AND TING—THEN THEY FOLLOW THROUGH.” (THE INTERVIEW, PART 3)

Reasoning with superstar record producer and label owner Jah Life is always a joy because of the critical role he played in the careers of many top reggae artists, often the unsung creative force behind their hit songs.

Last year, in November, I published “Jah Life: ‘Dem keep out me and Scientist out of everything, and it’s not them who made all this music possible.’ (The Interview: Part 1).” Following that, in December, I published “Jah Life: ‘Pretty up your voice like how Scientist balanced and mixed it.’ (The Interview: Part 2).”

Jah Life Interview Part 1 Jah Life Interview Part 2

In this Part 3 edition of my series of interviews of Jah Life—which encompass the most comprehensive reasoning to date with Jah Life you can find anywhere—we discuss Jah Life’s childhood days in Jamaica before moving to the U.S. and his association with the legendary singers Eek-A-Mouse, Carlton Livingston, and Scion “Sashay” Success.

This part 3 reasoning took place by phone on March 1, 2026; Jah Life was in New York City and I was in Los Angeles. What follows is a roughly 10,000-word transcript of our discussion modified only slightly for clarity and space considerations. At the end, please also find a link to the audio file of the interview—available on YouTube. Blessings to all!

Yes, boss.

Greetings, Jah Life.
Yeah, greetings to the I too.

Can you hear me well?
Yeah I can hear you well.

Okay, good.
I don’t know if you’re hearing me very well?

Yeah I can hear you pretty good but I’m gonna ask you—just because I have all my recorders going—and I want to make sure that we capture all of your wisdom today. So I want to make sure that you speak loudly throughout. But with that, Jah Life, give thanks because it’s such an honor, my friend, to get another chance to speak with you about your legendary career in reggae, you know, for over 50 years as a producer and record label owner. So, you know, thank you so much for spending a little bit more time with me today.
Thank you, too, boss. Because you doing a great job, too. As they say—you know me already—

Yeah.
—you know when you say “wisdom,” I don’t like the “wisdom” talk. (Laughing) A wise-talk.

Yeah?
A wise-talk, not “wis-dom”—that a “dumb” thing. (Laughing)

You know, Jah Life, there are certain words, as we know from our last reasonings that we did—there are certain things that you don’t say for certain reasons and I actually find that to be very interesting.
It’s a ritual.

And today I know you’ll let me know—probably there’ll be a few more times where I’ll say some words where—
Yeah, I know. (Laughing)

—and I hope you will chime in and let me know when there’s a different way to say something—you should let me know. But Jah Life, our last record[ed] [interview] was less than five months ago—in October [2025]. And for many of the reggae fans—you know, I hope that many of the reggae fans at least know about that epic reasoning that we did. And if they don’t—they might be finding out now that you and I spoke for 146 minutes—so close—
Was it only that long? (Laughing)

And they really [should] do that because there are a lot of topics that you and I—that both of us covered in a lot of depth already. And there are some topics that since we’ve covered them already—I mostly—you—you should be free to be Jah Life—and you should say whatever you want whenever you want to say it. But for me, personally, I know that there are some topics that since I know that you and I talked about them last time, I’m gonna try to get to different aspects—
Yeah man. Different stuff. I have so much things to talk about, you know?

Yeah, because in truth, as I think you’ll probably agree with me, your career is so rich. It’s so varied. And you’ve had such a giant impact on reggae music through so many different artists and different recordings. And different productions. And that’s why I want to make sure that we get to a number of [things] that we didn’t get to last time. But Jah Life, before we can even do that my friend, like I did last time when we first reasoned, what I’d like to do is to start off—before we talk about any music per se—though music [will] come up quick[ly]—is: I want to start off by asking a bit more about your early days in Jamaica—from when you were born in 1952 to when you were 18 and you migrated to the U.S. to New York City to join your family. Because even though we spoke in some depth about your very musical family last time, including your grandfather ([that] you never actually met, but whose photo carrying [a] French horn really moved you as a child). And then, you know, we also spoke about your uncle, the legendary Lloyd Mason, and all of his contributions at Studio One. And of course we talked about your father, Vincent Wright, and his sound system and his record label “Wright & Cole.” And we even spoke about your brother, the record producer and record store owner Delroy Wright. And we even spoke about how when your mom wasn’t sewing, I believe you said your mom was a wicked singer too?
Yeah, you know? She used to sing a lot, a lot, a lot. But I never really take it for anything still, you know? Trust me, she used to sing—sing all the time. She was a seamstress and she sing a lot, [too].

And so I know there are some additional questions, even though I [have already] asked you about some of this formative period of your life in Jamaica, there are still a few things that I kind of feel are interesting and important [to ask]. So one of the questions I have Jah Life is, can you tell me what do you remember about the schools that you went to in Jamaica before you left at age 18? What do you remember mostly about your schooling?
Well, I didn’t rate school really. Because everything I know, I know from a young, young age. So when I start going to school it’s like the teacher couldn’t handle me, you know? They [made me out to be] like a dunce. Why I say that? I go to likkle [All Saints School] and big [All Saints School]—and at one point I don’t even remember [what the name of the school was?]. The teacher—I used to call her “artificial” when I was a likkle kid. And she beat me. And my mother went up there and I think my mother buck her. (Laughing)

Oh wow! (Laughing)
At school—I don’t even remember when to tell you the truth—when I went back they say they don’t “have any space for me.” [That] I’m a “politician.” And I went to another school, Miss Martin—they say it was “Saint” Martin but it’s “Miss” Martin—you know? And when I go to that school they say the same thing, and so I guess, you know, the word spread.

What did they mean by that—[that] you were a “politician?” What were they talking about? You were so young.
You know the area where I come from—this is where the whole politics thing starts from, you know? Back-O-Wall surroundings. The prime minister, you know, lick down Back-O-Wall really. You see I use “Back-O-Wall University” as my university. So when they lick it down—a lot of people don’t know this what they do. The Rastaman used to be down there. And they dump up the front part of it to make it look like a slum—like a dump place, you know?

Papa Michigan?
Yeah, Michigan’s show.

Just to tell the people—after you did an interview with me [last year]—I saw this interview just this past weekend—you did an extensive video[taped] interview with Papa Michigan who does artist interviews for his YouTube channel.
Yeah, that is what I was trying to remember. And I mentioned certain things to him about that [too]. Because [as I was saying earlier], that’s my university—or [“tuni-versity”]—[because] I don’t like saying other peoples’ words. Because I see the President—Donald—he had a Trump University. The first time I hear [that] they say that it was legal because [the] university is not his. So after that I started to try and “cre-love” my own words. Not “cre-ate” because hate is not a good thing really, you know?

Right.
And we can point it out here [again] later when you ask about certain artists, too. So Back-O-Wall thing—I’m gonna try and make it quick because I know you don’t have much time still. So what happened now, when they carry dem animals and they eat up [everything], they started to say all Rastamen dem start eat pigs. [And] eat pork. Because they buy dem [to] eat up the garbage [that] mek the place smell up. And dem don’t tell people why. And [so] they started saying Rastamen started eating pork and bless it, and dem are “blackheart men.” And dem a-rape and kill pickney and this and that—all sorts of things.

So they were really discriminating—
Yeah!

—and putting out all these false rumors—
Big time!

—and false things about the Rastamen just to make people think badly of them. Now Jah Life you didn’t become a record producer and record label owner—as we talked about extensively during our last reasoning—until after you moved to New York. But again, before all of that, tell me a bit more about your involvement with music even just as a music fan when you were a youth in Jamaica before you left, you know, when you were in your teenage years—before you hit 18 and you moved to New York. So before you became involved officially in the music business, [and] when you were young and in Jamaica, were there particular sound systems in the Denham town area where you grew up that you went to?
Yeah, I go to one or two of them still but you see, in my area now, I teach about the Back-O-Wall surroundings. Why? It’s not far from where I lived. Around the corner from me, we have everything in West Kingston—that surroundings there. Everything! When I say “everything,” I kind “everything.” Not a “mean” thing. [It’s] a “kind” thing.

(Laughing) Yeah?
Okay, what happened is, right around the corner from me there was a boxing gym [and] the guy that owned it, him called “Buzza.” It was a boxing gym [and] a dancehall. What happened is the guy used to live at the back of my yard—I could go to the back of my yard and look over his yard. And ‘nuff people who might hear this and know Buzza who I’m talking about, and don’t know nothing about him like what I know. Because what happened is his brother named Lindsey; his brother used to own the place behind my yard. And Buzza come from country and come and beat up him brother, and run him back a-country [and] took over the place (laughing). And Buzza was big fan of all these things. Like when TV just come on. I used to have [a] TV but most youth they never have no TV so [I would go] to Buzza’s and him a-fry dumpling and cook food and ting. And as I say, [the place served also] as a boxing gym. And we had table tennis—we played table tennis there. We do everything. That’s how I really come up with everything.

*Editorial Note: Jah Life’s answer is a bit longer here and can be heard on the audio of the interview available on YouTube. Jah Life also later clarified that one of the reasons he was talking about Buzzaw’s yard and his time spent there is that that was a primary place he would listen to music during his youth in Jamaica.

What I was curious about was did you know any of the artists that you and Percy would later go on to record? And possibly were you friends with [any of] them, too, doing what they call your “short-pants days” in Jamaica? Before you left [Jamaica] when you were 18, were you already friends with some of these artists and musicians?
Yeah, some of them—the ones that I record[ed] after [I left Jamaica]. But I knew most of them. Ken Boothe, Alton Ellis—because Treasure Isle is—let me think, I was born at 100 Charles Street between Bread Lane and Regent Street. Then after Regent Street is Chestnut Lane. After Chestnut Lane is Bond Street. That’s where Treasure Isle [was]—33 Bond Street and Charles Street. So that’s where I used to hang out most times, too. So I used to be around the whole of the them—all of dem.

So you knew some of them even before you would get [involved in the music business] with them?
Yeah, like the older ones dem. I-Roy, [Errol] Dunkley, John Holt, and Alton [Ellis] and dem. Heptones and dem used to run around Wellington Street. And Ken Boothe used to run around [on] Wellington Street. That’s the next block [over] from Bread Lane. A man named “Count C” [had] a sound up there. So we never have to go nowhere—to no other place to dance. [There was] another [dance hall] up on North Street there—it [was] called “Carnival.” One of my good friends—well, we grew up together—he was the first man dead in Tivoli Gardens.

Oh?
He was called “Paul.” His brother [was] named “Charman.” He used to live in that dancehall’s yard. I want to tell you, too, this girl named “Laine”—I don’t [know] if her family owned it but she was living there, too. And what happened is the guy who owned that sound—he didn’t have really a dancehall, but him have him sound. Even Ken Boothe [talks] about him—because Ken Boothe—him say, “Bwoy”…. [Ken Boothe] used to love [to] go there because [the man] a-cook for him [and] give him money and all dem things there when he go there and just want him sing. Not for no recording or nothing, just you know?

Now before you left for the U.S. in 1970, whether you knew them or not personally, who were the musical artists—both Jamaican and foreign—that you personally liked to listen to the most?
Well, I’m gonna tell you: All of them. Me used to love all of dem, boss. Techniques, Uniques, Heptones, John Holt, Ken Boothe—the whole of dem mi used to listen to. Dennis Brown. Even Delroy Wilson—because he is the artist that my father and Stranger Cole [recorded].

On the Wright & Cole label, yeah.
Yeah.

Did you listen to these artists—were you mostly listening to them—that’s why I was asking about the sound systems—I was also curious whether you listened to them also—I know there weren’t many radio stations [at that time in Jamaica].
(Laughing) That’s what I was gonna tell you.

There was the rediffusion though—
Yeah, rediffusion. Some people don’t even know that. (Laughing)

Yeah, you know, I’ll tell you [legendary musician] Pablove Black recently told me about the rediffusion [(Radio Jamaica and Rediffusion or “RJR”)] and how in the community—people would be—there would be like a P.A. system kind of set up so people could listen to music, and listen to the radio, throughout the community. Is that how you would listen to music, too?
Well, we [had] rediffusion in our house. You see, there is ghetto right? But my family’s place, my grandmother’s place was like the best likkle place around there. Why? Alright. My grandmother’s house had [five] [bed]rooms. And the living room is on the sidewalk. Because there is a wall [there]. You can step through the window and step [onto] the sidewalk. Most of the other houses dem there—the houses are way back in and you have the zinc fence and the fence mashed down and all dem things there. The fence is all [beat up] and fall[ing] down and all of that. As I say, my house now and the wall that build my granny’s room and the living room—but it’s on the sidewalk—other people as I say, [their houses] were built way inside of the yard not out at the front. I think [we had] one of the first brick wall fences, too, instead of zinc. [We had] a brick wall and an iron gate. And a veranda right at the front, too. We could sit and look over the wall at the outside, too.

So you remember having one of the nicer houses in that area?
Yeah, and I’m gonna tell you this too. Things start coming to me differently and that’s why I love myself like that when things come. I don’t know if it’s the alkaline water [that] I usually drink. Because, you know, water is the source of life. Because water have every memory there is. And what I want to say now, too, people think that they can talk—tell a lot of lies—[and] talk a lot of wrong things. That water inside of them—the memory?

Yeah?
The memory take over dem, and then, they get shamed. You know?

Yeah. Yeah. You and I talked about the importance of the water age last time in our [last] in-depth interview—we talked about the “Age of Aquarius.”
Yeah.

Ah?
Mi no rate him from that. And mi a little pickney dem times there. Cause mi a tell you everything—everything I can tell anyone about a lot of things [happened] before I was 10. Because Back-O-Wall lick down when I was 10!

And you use that as kind of a guideline, I think?
Yeah—a guideline. So that’s why [I] stick to Back-O-Wall and ting and everything where mi talk is before—not even when I was 10. Before I was 10! Because Back-O-Wall lick down when I was 10.

Yeah. Jah Life, I mentioned that interview that you did—the very good reasoning that you did with Papa Michigan—that I think other people should watch, too. And in that interview with Papa Michigan, you said something that I would like to clarify and get a little bit more information about. I believe you said in that interview, just this past November [of] last year, that you may have had some personal interactions with Bob Marley and maybe even Bunny Wailer, too. Because at one point they both lived on Regent Street close to where you were living. So I want to ask—and just make sure I understand this—did you ever actually, Jah Life, meet and possibly reason with Bob or any of The Wailers when you were young?
Not really. I mean, as I say, number one, Bob Marley never have no name yet.

Yeah. That’s right. He wasn’t famous [yet].
The Wailers never even phase us yet. Okay, what happened is, true Bob Marley used to live around the corner from me. And I didn’t even remember that there’s a friend of mine that lived one block away from me—cause I think Bunny Wailer’s mother or father—somebody did live around there. ‘Cause me and Bunny Wailer’s sister, Claire—[he] had two sisters dem was good friends all the time in America. But anyway, what happened is, when—’73—when I hear Neville Willoughby interviewed Bob Marley—and Willoughby asked him when is the first time him ever have anything fi do with music—[as] a singer, writer, whatever. And [him] say [he] started in Back-O-Wall and all dem places and ting. And [he went] and sang a song at Queens Theatre— [Kesschin Band]—and I was there.

Wow.
I remember [Kesschin Band] ‘cause him say him win a pound. I know when you win, you have a currency, but you know the currency was a square. And when you hold [it at] points it becomes a triangle like—like an upside down triangle. So you hold it over your head like that [and] you’re the winner. And another guy, an Indian guy from down at Garden Street, him did sing and win a pound too one time. When him sing “Our Father—” (Laughing)

(Laughing)
[It made me] laugh, you know?

Yeah. Jah Life, there’s a couple of artists I want to ask you some questions about. But before we do that, there’s one more question that I want to ask about your early life in Jamaica. Because last time when we spoke, you told me that when you came to New York to join your family at age 18 that it only took you—I was so impressed by this—you mentioned that it only took you like a week after you were in New York to land a job at the Latin Watch Case Company in Long Island. And you said that you got that job because you had experience from working at the second biggest jewelry store in Jamaica. And I want to follow up on that and I want to ask you, Jah Life, did you learn how to fix watches also? Or were you more focused on like watchbands and cases?
I started to fix watches, [too]. Alright. I don’t remember if I [ever] tell anyone that. When I was small—I have to climb up on a chair—my grandmother have a “granny clock”—one of dem Big Ben clocks—in the house. And I climb up on the chair [because] it wasn’t working. [And] I don’t know what possess[ed] me to do that and ting, but I climb up and pull the ting and I turn the hand[s] [of the clock]—the first hand [and] the second hand—and it not work. So I pulled [open] the back and go in there [and], to tell you the truth, I don’t know what I do—

Did you fix the clock!?
I fixed it!

Whoa!
I fixed it without some of the parts dem. And it worked!

Wow! How did you do that? (Laughing)
That’s what I’m saying—things that happened to me, right? As I tell my father—as a matter of fact his wife just passed [and] was buried yesterday—

Oh—sorry to hear that.
—and I said to him, you know—him say people tell him before him passed—somebody tell them [that] I say him never take care of me. So let me say this to you: Me and nobody ever hold any argument about you; not my mother, granny and ting, nobody—no one whatsoever ever hold any argument about you or about any of my family. And let me tell you this: What I know and what I used to do from even dem times when I am a likkle child—you know, even those times, the things that I used to make and do—it’s only my mother that I could have get it from. Because from my growing up as a likkle kid you have the jewelry store behind Times Square in Jamaica—downtown there… My granny? She go to country [and] buy and sell and all of that. But when she come home, she do embroidery. And my mother was a seamstress, too. All of the women dem lined up inna my [yard].

I didn’t know that.
—you have a record store up there and ting. Dill—his record shop is [called] “Park Heights” but ‘nuff people don’t know why it’s named “Park Heights.” (Laughing) Dem used to run up there—alright—him and Errol Shorter and Machi and all of these guys, right? They used to run up that side.

I see.
That’s why even, after a while, you have “Superstar Corner.” And they were in Seaga’s band!

Ah?
They were in Seaga’s band and they never called themselves “Seaga boys.” With Desmond McKenzie. Him was the mayor—I don’t know where him is now in Jamaica and ting.

Jah Life, since you just started to mention some musical artists, I think it’s a good segue for me to actually go into—there’s a couple of people I really want to ask you about. And the first one is the legendary Eek-A-Mouse also known as “Ripton Hyl—
Ripton Hylton. (Laughing)

(Laughing) Yeah. And Wikipedia—which is a general, you know, collector of information which is often incorrect—but sometimes it has good information. Wikipedia says you produced Eek-A-Mouse’s first single “Georgie Porgie” in 1981. But then I read a 2007 Jamaican Gleaner article where Eek-A-Mouse said—he was mentioning a song called “Creation—”
“Creation,” yeah.

Yeah, which I love. And which also came out on the Jah Life label.
Alright. (Laughing)

But when I looked it up, [I learned] that the “Creation” song—on “Discogs” [it says] the “Creation” song was a 7-inch single that came out in 1975. So before “Georgie Porgie”—
That was before that, you know? But go ahead.

Yeah, so that would have been before—my only point is that it look[s] like that “Creation” song came out before “Georgie Porgie?”
Yeah!

Yeah! Yeah. Okay.
Alright. You know it’s Tanka I get that song from him. But Eek-A-Mouse—when I—I didn’t know it was Eek-A-Mouse. But it was Eek-A-Mouse because I know it was him. You know why?

Why?
Every time I see Eek-A-Mouse, Eek-A-Mouse keep saying that: “Jah Life put out my first tune, you know?” Me a-think a “Georgie Porgie” him a-talk. But it didn’t come out as “Eek-A-Mouse,” it come out as “Ripton Hylton.”

So you found out that he started using the stage name “Eek-A-Mouse”—
Yeah, it was Ripton Hylton [before that].

—and I know just from looking at that article the other day that he said that he used a race horse—[“Eek-A-Mouse”] was the name of a racehorse that he used to bet on.
Yeah.

And then the one day that he didn’t bet on the “Eek-A-Mouse” horse—
It win. (Laughing)

(Laughing) But let me ask you, Jah Life—I want to ask you some questions about both “Georgie Porgie” and the song “Creation.” But before I do that, let me ask you first, how do you remember meeting—what’s your recollection of meeting Eek-A-Mouse? Because, you know, when you meet Eek-A-Mouse, he’s like 6 foot 6 [inches tall]. (Laughing)
(Laughing)

He’s a big guy. How did you meet Eek-A-Mouse? Tell me about that.
I’m trying to remember. I think him come here, you know?

He came to New York?
He came to New York and ting and we start moving [together]. I don’t exactly remember but it wasn’t [in] Jamaica. It was up here. And that’s before that—alright—when I leave Jamaica and came up, right, with—mi no want to curse pon your thing—

That’s okay—that’s okay.
Barrington Sleazy. Back then, in ‘79, when I went to Jamaica—right? I don’t know if we talked about that already but, you know, we start doing work and ting and it’s my money spent, my ideas— my brethren died because of Treasure Isle and Studio One LPs that him borrowed from him friend—

Hmm. Wow.
They say they never like it. Then why did they come out—him send back for it. That’s why I never bother to put it out. Mi have it up till now. And you know mi have jacket fi it and everything already. Not from that time there still. But mi kinda clean it up different [and] overdub and ting pon it. And make it, you know, sound a likkle different. And mi put out the “Georgie Porgie” first! That’s why Greensleeves never put it on [an] LP.

Did you help—were you part of writing the song “Georgie Porgie?”
No. I know “Georgie Porgie” still. “Georgie Porgie, pudding and pie, kissed the girls and make them cry.” (Laughing) [I] used to [sing that song] as a kid.

(Laughing) Yeah! It’s a nursery—when I looked it up—
It’s a nursery rhyme. (Laughing)

Yeah. From 1840, Jah Life. It’s an old—
Alright, you see, you researched it and know that. You know how [many] people don’t know that? They gonna know that now! Not even Greensleeves knows that.

(Laughing) It’s a nursery rhyme from the 1840s about a boy who kisses girls. And then he makes them cry—
Makes dem cry.

—and then he runs away. (Laughing)
Just like Humpty Dumpty and dem, you know? On a wall.

When I look it up also, Jah Life, it shows me that maybe Louie Lepkie was maybe involved in a version [of that song]? Do you know about that?
What version?

I don’t know—I [found] a version that mentions Louie Lepkie in connection to that song.
I don’t understand—

I’ll send it to you.
Yeah. Alright.

Let me ask you this—let me move to a different thing—which is this—because I love this song and actually this reggae program that I listen to—a reggae radio program—they’ve played this before—“The Sounds of the Caribbean” [podcast]—I know that I’ve heard it there: The song “Creation.” [Which as] we’re saying—it’s one of Eek-A-Mouse’s first recordings. And that song is such an awesome song because if you listen to it [the lyrics go]: “Let there be nights. Let there be days. It’s a wonderful world that we’re living in today.”
“That we’re living in today.” It’s on the LP—the new LP, too, you know, but they did it a different way. On the “Noah & The DNA Ark.” But they changed the name now from “Noah[’s] Ark” to “Noah & the DNA Ark.”

Oh. Wow. Okay. I’ll have to go check that.
[For the album cover,] I get someone to do—I could have drawn it myself but certain things I leave with whoever is currently doing it. I drew like an Ark—because, you know, it’s too modern [how they drew it]. [They] put an iron thing a-go up on the Ark, [and] I said: “No! It’s supposed to be stone or something.” You know—inna those days? And it looked like a boat but then it have the oval part where you can see the scientists dem in there. The animals dem go in through one door—

Yeah.
—and they take a sample of the DNA and then let them go. Because [only] so much things could hold in an ark.

(Laughing) Yup.
(Laughing) So I designed it differently. By myself. The original picture, right?

Yeah?
When Junjo send the picture come—Eek-A-Mouse [is pictured standing] on an old boat pon the beach.

(Laughing)
Eek-A Mouse make that boat look like it’s small. (Laughing)

(Laughing)
I don’t know what happened to that picture. So I just design something out of my head, you know?

That song is so irie. And as you know it starts off where Eek-A-Mouse says, “Oh dreadlock. Oh Jah Jah.”
Yeah.

Yeah. Yeah. Now there’s another artist that I have to ask about. [That’s] Carlton Livingston. And Carlton, I read, in an interview that I sent you actually—he talked, you know, about how you helped to come up with the idea for his massive hit tune that everyone—mostly all reggae fans know: “100 Weight of Collie Weed.” Which was a major hit in 1982. And Carlton said, “I think as a producer”—he was talking about you, Jah Life—“he is very underrated. He is a very good producer. He has ideas.” And he then also said: “If you look at the Greensleeves for this release”—[referring to] “100 Weight of Collie Weed”—it says ‘Roots Radics.’ No. ‘High Life Players.’ It was recorded at Philip Smart’s studio. And it says Junjo was the producer. No. It’s Jah Life that’s the producer. It’s just that Jah Life and Junjo was working together. Junjo came to America and heard the song, and he took the song back to play on Volcano.”
That part is not accurate. It’s still close. What happened is, I send it down to Junjo, right? Because everything I do—true me and him was, you know, doing [a] partnership. Right? Business partnership. So what happened is—everything I make up here, what didn’t make in Jamaica, I send them down—I put them on a two-track and send them to Jamaica.

Yeah.
And what happened is I hear that my song is number one in England. So I say, “How my song get number one [in] England and it no release yet?”

(Laughing) Yeah.
And then I see the Greensleeves label. So when I call they say it’s Junjo they get it from. And Junjo say—because a lot of people can’t read and write. So what dem do—

Yeah?
What dem do dem, they see—even Scion’s name, right? Some a “Sci” and some a-say “Sky”—“Sci” and “Sky-on” and all kinds of names, you know?

I’m gonna ask you about him next.
When dem can’t pronounce it them say “Sammy Levi.” Because him did sound like [a] prophet and Scion did have that song, too. Like a prophet. Because they couldn’t pronounce the name.

*Editorial Note: Jah Life’s answer here is a bit longer but difficult to transcribe because of the speed of his patois.

Well, you know, a lot of Americans will do that—butcher the names and all kinds of things. Before I forget, Jah Life, the person who interviewed—who did the reasoning with Carlton Livingston was this guy named Saxon Baird. And it was in a publication called “Afropop Worldwide” in September 2013. And the article was called “Carlton Livingston on Reggae, Drugs, and New York City.” And it’s a very interesting interview because in the interview—or reasoning we should say—Carlton was kinda talking about how, you know, there were some very bad men—some drug dealers even—and I don’t think this is a surprise really to anyone but I still want to ask you about it because you were involved—you were there at that time—working in the industry. [And Carlton] was saying that, you know, sometimes he would get a call—from a drug dealer even—that they wanted him to record a song. And he really had no choice. He might have to do it because, you know, these guys—
Them [making] him. (Laughing)

(Laughing) Right. So I wanted to ask you, Jah Life, I know even from watching that Papa Michigan interview that you did that you’ve had some dicey moments in New York, too, where, you know, you felt threatened. And I just wanted to know if you had anything to say about the influence of that kind of thing on the reggae scene in New York—of the Shower posse and drug dealers, etcetera? And then just to say—I don’t mean to bring up too much now—but let me say—I’m gonna add this too—
It’s nothing, boss.

—you mentioned to Papa Michigan that—and I think I have this correct—and you’re not the first person to tell me this—but you may have had some dealings back in the day, just like Bob Marley did, and also like I Kong did—because he told me this in a reasoning I did with [him]—that you may have had some dealings back in the day in Jamaica with Claude Massop?
Yeah—alright, you see, all of dem—most of these guys that run Jamaica?

Yeah?
Or run West Kingston there back inna my days—most of dem—I think I was [already] a big man but all of dem was older “big man” for me. (Laughing) I even see some now—not much older than me. [They] called me “Bulla Belly.” Some say “Junior.” All kinds of names mi used to have. So anyway, [they used to say], “Hey Bulla, you are big man for wi, you know?” And the next man say, “Junior, you are big man for wi when wi a likkle youth, you a big man, you know?” Mi a-say, “No man, no bother with that boss.” And them say, “Yeah man.” And it so happens that the two of them birthday was during the time when me and them a-talk. And mi say, “But you’re [both] older than me!” (Laughing)

But so—because you’ve been around all these guys for so long, you know and I guess you’re saying—[well] let me ask: I think you’re agreeing that the influence of bad men—bad men per se—people who are involved in illegal activities [like] drug dealing and so forth—have always been a part of the music scene—even back in the day in Jamaica. And so it’s not a surprise.
Right. Yeah.

And so it’s not a surprise that would also come into [play] in New York City, too, right?
Yeah, well you see, nobody could intimidate me when I was a youth. Nobody!

Nice.
Why? My [grand-uncle] was “corporation police.”

*Editorial Note: Jah Life later clarified that “corporation police” were similar to police officers in that they would patrol and provide security for various areas in Jamaica like Coronation Market.

*Editorial Note: Jah Life’s answer was slightly longer here but not transcribed for a number of reasons; as previously mentioned a link to the full audio file of the interview is available on YouTube.

Now Jah Life, I have to ask because this song is a massive, major reggae hit that most people know—“100 Weight of Collie Weed”—[and] like I said Carlton [Livingston] mentioned how you helped him with the song. And one thing he mentioned was you’re the one who told him that he should [sing]—the song starts out—it’s interesting ‘cause he [sings]: “Get hustling. Get hustling.” And then he talks about “100 weight of collie weed coming from Saint Ann’s.” And he said you’re the one who told him that he should [sing] the collie weed was coming from Saint Ann’s. Because a lot of weed was coming from Saint Ann’s back in that time.
Yeah, no, because mi a-say “coming from down South.”

Oh, that’s right—maybe I have it wrong?
Mi a-say “Down South.” “Coming from down South. [And] the speed limit was 55, but I was doing 65.” So we changed it. Because mi used to live [in] D.C. [and] Maryland. So mi say, well, I’m gonna send it down [to Jamaica and] go get Volcano and Junjo [Lawes] [to play it, too]—[we] just changed it and put “St. Ann’s” now. Because, you know, Saint Ann’s was a regular collie place.

Yeah. It would make sense for it to be Saint Ann’s when you sent [the song] to Jamaica.
Yeah, you know?

But let me ask you because I was just listening to the lyrics and it’s funny to me because the song is such like a mellow, meditative kind of song. It’s very cool to listen to. But if you listen to the lyrics, the lyrics are kind of stressful. Because like you’re saying, the man [in the song] has a 100 weight of collie weed, he’s doing [55] and the speed limit is [35]—
(Laughing) Yeah.

And Babylon’s car starts to follow. And he can’t afford to get arrested because he doesn’t have his papers on him or anything. And there’s a roadblock. So it’s kind of a stressful song. I think [Carlton also said this song was recorded at Philip Smart’s studio]. [And] you mentioned last time [HC&F] studios was one of your favorite studios to record in—Philip Smart’s studio—
Philip Smart, yeah.

—in Freeport, Long Island. Do you remember anything about the particular day when the song was recorded?
No, Sir. (Laughing)

*Editorial Note: Jah Life’s answer was slightly longer here but not transcribed for a number of reasons; as previously mentioned a link to the full audio file of the interview is available on YouTube.

I want to make sure I get to this [other] fabulous artist that you mentioned already—that I spent some time listening to because I didn’t know that much about [him]—that you worked with. [So] I want to move to a different artist and I’m probably gonna say [his name] wrong but: Scion ‘Sashay’ Success. His legal name is George Narcisse.
Narcisse, uh-huh.

—Scion was like [Barrington] in that he could sing—once he sings one song on a rhythm, he can sing a number of tunes, hit songs, on the same—
Yeah, because that’s how we used to do it. So I would pick [them, the riddims], you know?

Yeah. You would pick a rhythm and then they would build songs around that. Right?
Alright. Let me say this to you: You see a lot of these songs? I would start out with the intro—a punchline and ting—then they follow through. Not everybody, but, you know, mostly.

You would think of some kind of original hook or some kind of opening lyric?
Yeah!

Like you mentioned [when we first reasoned] for Barrington Levy. You mentioned how your friend “Shudley Wop”—
Shudley.

Yeah, Shudley Wop—we talked about that a lot last time [about where Barrington got that vocal riff about “Shudley Wop” from]. But let me ask you this [because] I want to ask you about Scion [Success]. The first song that I think he even did—the very first song—I listened to this song: “Can’t Leave Jah Alone.” And it’s such a beautiful tune. It blew my mind. It’s on the Jah Life Records [label] in 1983 and it also appears on Scion’s debut album which Jah Life records also produced: The record “Success” in 1986. But when I was looking at him as an artist, one thing that came up was—I don’t know if this is true or not—but [on the internet it says]—one thing I read was that he’s best known, maybe, for this song, “Sound Bwoy Fall.” Which is also known as “Dun Dead Already.”
Yeah.

And you have a song credit—you have a songwriting credit for this song. So I know that you were involved with this song. And when I listen to the song—I [knew] I wanted to ask you a little more about [it]. It’s interesting because it [goes] “Enough sound bwoys—”
I’m glad you’re doing that—

“—enough sound bwoys are dead and gone. Sound bwoy fall. Sound bwoy fall. They’re dun dead already from the morgue to the cemetery. You’re running around. You’re puffing your chest out. But sound bwoy fall, sound bwoy fall. The whole world is a battlefield. Sound bwoy fall. Sound bwoy fall.” Jah Life, it’s such a great song. But tell me more about this song.
Alright. What happened is—I’m glad you say that because even Scion saying him write this and write that. And him cousin—[I don’t] remember him name—[was saying something about it, too]. And it was nothing like that. I know Scion—I think it was late ’82 or ’83. And dem lyrics I had from probably about ’73-’74, something around there. Right? What happened is, I was in Jamaica and I went to Saint Mary’s [where] there’s a sound truck named the Black Harmony Hi-Fi. With Jah Stitch. And me and Stitch used to move [together]. So anyway, this truck a-go up a hill and Jah Stitch is asleep on the back and drop off. And a-mi the man mi say him drop off. But anyway, we reach the dance and ting [and] everything gwan good and ting until [him drop of the truck]. You see: “You dun dead already. You dun dead already. Him off to the cemetery and go left to go bury.”

Yeah. (Laughing)
That [image and that song] never left my head from dem times there. [And] I leave and come up back to New York and ting, and everyone pon my sound—me included—everybody—adjust the lyrics dem a-talk over and over. And I said to Scion, it’s from the 70s me have [that song]. [And] in ’83, I said to Scion, “Mi want you to sing that tune there in a singjay style.” ‘Cause it was a DJ tune. I’m gonna tell you now so you can research it. Jah Stitch come out [with it on his own I think in] the 70s, too. [With] Bunny Lee. Jah Stitch do it and it come out and Big Youth do it again, too, after that. And Big Youth said something like (singing): “Black harmony. Black harmony,” you know? But it’s the same “Dun Dead Already” tune.

Nice. I’ll look it up.
And Scion go around and tell him write it and him this and him that. No—him say him and him daughter write it. I say, “Scion, you need to stop telling lies.”

*Editorial Note: Jah Life’s answer was slightly longer here but not transcribed for a number of reasons; as previously mentioned a link to the full audio file of the interview is available on YouTube.

Yeah.
Because they’re talking about reggae. Well Bunny Lee still—Bunny Lee know part of it but he don’t know the full part of it—original for reggae, right? Not “streggay,” reggae—the original is “reggae.”

*Editorial Note: Jah Life’s answer was slightly longer here but not transcribed for a number of reasons; as previously mentioned a link to the full audio file of the interview is available on YouTube.

I hear you, Jah Life. And I think next time when we do our Part 4 reasoning, we’ll probably pick up on this point about “streggay” and “reggae.” But one thing that all the people should know—because we haven’t mentioned it yet—at least in this reasoning—your legal name is “Hyman A. Wright.” And as you told me [before], and as I’ll never forget, “Hyman is always right!” (Laughing)
(Laughing)

So listen, if you’re gonna try and take a bet on Hyman, then you know, you bet against him to your own peril.
Yeah! You know. (Laughing)

Hey, Jah Life, thank you again so much my friend. I’m gonna let you get back to your family—to the people in your house—and the people who love you—
Nobody but me alone live here for a year and half. I stay away from people. They’re nothing but hypocrites and parasites!

(Laughing) People are crazy, I hear you. Well, nevertheless, Jah Life, I’m gonna let you go. It’s been a blessing and a joy. It’s always an honor to speak to you. And we’ll speak again soon my friend, okay?
Alright, give thanks. Take care of yourself and your family. Yeah, because it’s not everyone have a family. I don’t ‘sider’ myself—I don’t like the “con-sider”—the “con” part of it. I haven’t any family [left] because everybody just wants and wants and wants. You know?

Yeah. I hear you. Family can be tough. And sometimes friends can be—
Everybody—all of dem.

—even stronger than family. So I’m glad to count you as my friend, Jah Life. And we’ll pick [back up later in the future].
Yeah man.

‘Nuff respect to you. And I’ll be in touch with you soon. Okay?
Yeah. Same here.

Blessings. Bye-bye, Jah Life.
Every time.

Blessings. ‘Nuff respect.