A Nun 'Bless up' the dance

Do you remember Althea & Donna's 'Uptown Top Rankin'? If you do, you'd never be able to forget the extra swanky & cool trills of the Trombonist Vin Gordon who played on that track. Do you like No Doubt, Gwen Stefani, and Amy Winehouse? Well then you'll probably love Hedley Bennet, the Upsetters and the Ska lites. And if you're into all those reggae greats, you must give nuff respect to the Wailers' Owen Gray & Winston Martin and to Don Drummond & Lester Sterling who wrote 'Is This Love'. And while we're on roots rock memory lane, google Eddie 'TanTan' Thorton and the Jools Holland Band, because according to BBC Correspondent and reggae fanatic Johnathon Charles, these are the unknown guys who (along with our beloved Bob) brought reggae into the spotlight during those ramble-scramble days of the 1960 British Reggae scene. These are the street guys and castaway ruffians who embraced the sound of Kingston, regardless of whether or not they were native Jamaicans, lending their street wise charm and rake & scrape know-how to the essential vibe of reggae. The love for the dancehall and its music, however, was instilled in them by a good Old Faithful Nun - Sister Mary Ignatius Davies.

I know. Its a hard & bitter pill to swallow in some forms. A Nun, a woman of the Church, encouraging young, black British boys to spin wax and admire an artform that revers 'passing the dutchie/kutchie/doobie/ whatever and singing praises to Jah?' Ludicrous, maybe, but true nontheless. "In the 1940s, 50s and 60s, Sister Mary Ignatius Davies ran the Alpha Boys School in Jamaica, instilling into her boys a love of music and thus playing a vital but unheralded role in the reggae explosion of the 1960s" according to the original article by Johnathon Charles that can be found on BBC Caribbean.com. It caught my eye and I had to share it, because the story of a Nun, her own sound system (you read right!) the dances she threw, and the young guys she inspired to become reggae greats is something I had to highlight. Remember this is England, where everyone from the Caribbean wanted to send their precious son/daughter to become a Doctor, Lawyer or some other 'noble' person. Even as that was the norm, I imagine it was also the norm for West Indians to succumb to hardships and for their kids to be abandoned or to be sent to reform homes if they were troublesome. That's where Sister Iggy, as she was fondly called, came in.

Offering the guys an alternative came in the form of hosting reggae dancehall parties, encouraging them to seek out the latest releases, and spinning tunes herself; after all she was a DJ and had her own collection of top tracks. This Sister was on the scene, for real. "And it wasn’t just music; she also taught them boxing, happily donning gloves to take on boys that were often twice her weight and size" the BBC article went on to state. "She believed it was her Christian duty to teach them skills that would see them through their lives in a rough town like Kingston." She approached this new thing as a serious art form, and it was said that notes were found on her methods for mixing & selecting tunes - she meant business and was thorough. And this was the Sister who these guys had as their main mentor and adult figure. How enriching! Especially to these youngsters who were from the undesirable areas and the system didn't have provisions for them. To think that a simple act was so fundamental in the formation of a genre that we all love and embrace is inspiring - remember reggae was always associated with the trenches. So next time you sway to a Rastaman Vibration, remember Sister Iggy...

Live it up, now...

L.M.N. Harris.