Interview by : Benoit Georges
Pictures by : Benoit Collin
on Sunday, January 07th 2007 - 7 950 views
A Londoner of Jamaican origin, Robbo Ranx grew up with reggae through his experiences in his own sound systems, Tippertone and then Musik Street. Although he admits he did not take radio seriously at first, he embarked on a radio adventure that took him from pirate radio all the way to the BBC. Host of the weekly show Dancehall Splurt on the BBC's 1Xtra station since 2002, Robbo Ranx is recognised for his professionalism, his free-ranging interviews with the likes of Sizzla and Bounty Killer, and the new releases he often plays as exclusives, several weeks before they come out.
Now one of the most important voices of reggae in England, he continues to promote the local scene and to report on reggae from around the world. On two occasions, Robbo Ranx had let the Reggaefrance team feature on his show. He nonetheless remains faithful to his roots and was playing in Paris for the first time at last month's Demolisha night. We took the opportunity to interview him in our turn.
Reggaefrance / First of all, how did you find last night's party?
Robbo Ranx / My show was crazy! I've been to Paris before, about 7 years ago, with the Ruff Cutt band, Chukkie Starr and Starkey Banton. From what I saw, the crowd was quite roots. But now I realise dancehall has become a real phenomenon in France. I didn't expect the crowd to have so much energy, I was surprised. I hope to come back to France because I really liked how some of the singers there sounded.
You were born and raised in England. Where exactly, and in what context?
In West London, Paddington. I come from a Jamaican family: I'm a "country boy"!
I assume you came into contact with reggae very early, from childhood...
Actually it's not me who came into contact with reggae but rather reggae that came into contact with me. From my earliest age, reggae was present in my environment: I grew up listening to reggae at home, Gregory Isaacs, John Holt... I come from an area of England where many Jamaicans settled: Paddington, West London, Ladbroke Grove, Harrow Road... It's a place where most of the Caribbean immigrants settled. So reggae was around me from day one: I wasn't even aware I was listening to reggae when I was young because it's what the whole family listens to, it surrounded me. But I listened to plenty of other styles of music: when I was at school, I liked hip-hop, Michael Jackson or break-dance but at home, it was reggae.
So you formed the Tippertone sound system with friends...
For most young Jamaicans in England in the 80s, it was normal to be attached to a sound system. When I was young, belonging to a sound system was a way of being somebody in your community. Every community had its sound. There were even communities with three or four sound systems. When I was at secondary school, I got together with three friends and we started putting our pocket money aside to buy records. The next step was the sound system itself: buying speakers, a turntable. That's how we got started.
Did you choose your name because of Lord Tippertone in Jamaica?
No, there was already a Tippertone in England. When we were young, we took inspiration from other people's names. Back then, there were all these names with "ranking": Ranking Toyan, Ranking this or that. So I chose the name Ranking.
Did you already have your name Robbo?
No, it was just Ranking. Robbo comes from my first name: Robinson. All that is to say that you do as the elders do, as the older ones. You tend to copy the name, the style, the sound... There was a Coxsone in England, there was a King Tubby's, and so there was a Tippertone that came from Tippertone.
Were you a deejay at the time?
Yes, I was more of a deejay. I still deejay today, but the new riddims go too fast.
There were several artists on the sound, including General Levy...
General Levy, Sweetie Irie and Cinderella were deejays on the sound. Back then, every sound had its deejays, but deejays were in the habit of going from one sound to another. Artists like Tippa Irie, Nereus Joseph, Richie Davis and Crucial Robbie could come and deejay on the sound. We each had our own sounds, but when we held nights or carnivals, all the artists would turn up and take the mic. That was normal in those days.
In 1989, you set up your own sound. Why?
The sound really started in 1989. I started young: at fourteen I was already playing in a sound. I was playing at Saxon or Coxsone dances at just 16. In 1989 I was a teenager and the sound sort of split up: deejays or MCs left the sound and went off to do their own thing. I felt I wanted to move on to something else: producing music. I had an accident and broke my leg in 1987 or 1988, which kept me away from the sound and meant I could no longer go to the dances. So I stayed at home and learned to play music, keyboards. And I wanted to go into a studio. At that time, my cousin was working at Fashion Records, where he was one of the engineers. So when I broke my leg, I would go and sit in the studio and listen to what they were producing. At that time Fashion was a big label and it was an inspiration. So I first set up my own label. I called it Musik Street and the sound system developed afterwards. I started by recording the artists I saw working at Fashion.
Back then, there was a real need to record deejays on record...
Yes, at the time reggae was in transition. Saxon was one of the biggest sounds in England at the end of the 80s, but the live scene was in slight decline because artists were leaving the stage to make records. Smiley Culture started the trend, along with Papa Levi, who was one of the best live deejays. Many artists wanted to record, which is why I started producing records myself. That was at the end of the 80s, but after two or three years I started to get bored: not because of production as such, but I wanted to go back to the dances to play the artists I had recorded. So in 1991, 1992, I launched the Musik Street sound system, and it was mainly to play my own records. At that point I had it in mind to have my artists, to play my music, on my sound. Jazzy B, of the label Soul II Soul, is one of the people who inspired me. He had his own sound system and he was also a producer, though not of reggae: he was more into soul, but he created his own structure. So I thought I'd do like Jazzy B, have my music and my sound.
Did you ever go back to production afterwards?
Yes. I produced a record or two, for example with Jack Radics, Jim Waters, Bobo General and Gal Gorgon. Good tunes. But I was spending less time in the studio and more and more time on the road with my sound. In 1991 or 1992, the sound was very popular. Two or three years later, it had become one of the biggest sounds in West London: between 1993 and 2000, we dominated that area. That's why I never really had time to go back to production. I went into studios to record dubplates, but not records.
The second part of your career begins in 1993, when you became the host of a pirate radio show...
I never really took radio seriously. Back then, most of the guys from the sound systems had gone into radio: Trevor Sax, Jazzy B... So I got into radio because it was the trend. Pirate radio was a major phenomenon between the end of the 80s and the start of the 90s: sound systems took the competition full in the face, because pirate stations were becoming more popular than the dances. But I didn't take radio too seriously. Radio became a serious thing for me in 1997. Before that, I just went along to play some music and people told me I was good. I always wanted to be a deejay and play sounds, that's where I come from, but I didn't know it would take off. That's what happened, though, and after five or six years the show had become very popular: people liked what I was doing. People encourage you to carry on, so you carry on.
Before pirate radio, was Rodigan almost the only one playing reggae on the radio?
Yes, in London there was only Rodigan and Tony Williams. You listened to Rodigan on Saturday night and Tony Williams on Sunday afternoon. That was in the mid-80s. Then pirate radio took off. At the time, Rodigan and Tony Williams couldn't satisfy everybody: Rodigan played for two hours on Saturday and Tony Williams for two hours on Sunday. Four hours of reggae in the week! So when the pirate stations appeared, they became very popular, to the point of killing off the sound systems. When I say killing, I mean that the radio shows had become more popular than the dances. Today, and I'm only talking about what I hear, pirate radio isn't as good as it used to be: people have other reasons for broadcasting, most of them do it for the money, to sell advertising. I think the principles are no longer the same as before: to entertain, to bring in new sounds, to educate listeners about the music, to promote our culture...
How did you move from pirate radio to commercial radio?
Without wanting to get big-headed, you have to be good. There were plenty of DJs on the waiting list before me. So the idea was to work your way up the queue by trying to have a show that was easily recognisable, so that people would stay loyal. Most presenters played music without being informative. Reggae has always been my passion, the object of my curiosity, and I always wanted to know. When I got the chance to go on radio, I realised how important it was to share information and make things clear for listeners. Radio isn't visual, so things have to be clear for the listeners; you have to set the scene. That's what I did on radio to improve my show: paint the picture, set the scene and be more descriptive about the music. That's ultimately what helped me move to commercial radio. My show was very popular on pirate radio and I was approached by Choice FM. So I left pirate radio for Choice.
How did you come into contact with the BBC?
I spent a year and a half with Choice FM, and one day I got a call at the station: someone was waiting to see me at reception. We went outside and he told me he was from the BBC, that they were going to launch a new radio station and that they'd like to bring me in. At first I didn't believe it, then I told him everything was going well for me at Choice and he'd just have to come back in six months. So I carried on at Choice. But it became clear to me quite early on that the BBC's 1Xtra project was really going to make waves thanks to the internet. I thought about it again and again and I said to myself: "let's give it a go, it's a new challenge." So I arrived at 1Xtra and it became much bigger than I expected.
Your audience has even become international...
Yes, the internet is a very powerful tool and it's even more important to be informative about the music. As soon as I can show that reggae is big, I put on the best and I show 100% of my interest. So this show gives me the chance to play music and talk about music to the whole world. I'm happy to do this job: being the guy who explains, who plays the music and who entertains. Because interviews, good press and publicity also develop the music. It's not only good music in itself, because there is a lot of good music. Professionals need to be more informative: we have to give listeners more information. And artists need to be aware that they have to take the media into account. You don't need to be an extrovert, but you do have to be able to communicate. I think reggae didn't explode in the 90s as it should have because of the ignorance of many artists. Many artists blame others: they don't open their eyes. There is a need for education. Many artists came and went because they didn't know how to behave with the media, with the public, or because they ignored the business side. All of that needs to be developed, and that's how the music grows. Many people made mistakes in the past, but the new artists now understand that they can't remain insular. One of the problems of reggae and of Jamaica as a society is being too insular; people are afraid. Many times it was also the consequence of bad media coverage: many people in the media wrote bad things about reggae. Shabba Ranks, for example, made a statement on a TV show in the past and the media came down hard on him. Then there's Buju Banton, who recorded the song Boom bye bye when he was 19. Now Buju has grown up, he's 34, and people still want to stop him performing because of something he said when he was 19! Plenty of negative aspects in the media explain why artists hold back from talking to them. But artists have to be wise, they have to know who they are talking to, they have to have that knowledge of the media.
Speaking of promotion, British artists generally complain about the media's lack of interest in British reggae. You are one of the only ones promoting local artists...
I'm sure you have the same problem in France. If you're not a Jamaican artist, you have to ask yourself what you can do to raise your level. Jamaican artists work 24 hours a day, you can see it, they're in the studios every day. It's true that they have access to all the riddims, but they work very hard. I have a problem with British artists because they don't work as hard. They think it's their right to have their records played because they're British. It's not a right. You have to promote yourself, get out and do shows, go to the public. Jamaica has a real scene, the artists gravitate around that scene, they perform, they go to the sounds, they cut dubplates and generate a lot of interest. In England, some artists sit back and wait for you to play their record. But we have good artists, dancehall artists who are very active: Suncycle, YT, Cooga War, Gappy Ranks... It's only a matter of time before this scene blossoms. It's the same in France: you have a lot of reggae artists who are active there.
But in France, we don't have a label like Greensleeves, which is one of the biggest reggae labels in the world and yet does nothing for the British scene...
I've spoken openly about it in the past and I've been very critical of Greensleeves and other labels. Because it's not only Greensleeves, even if it's the best example of a British label that doesn't invest in British music. But in the end, that's their problem and that's their business: they're free to make money as they wish. Artists should stop looking to Greensleeves: they have to make their own way, set up their own structures. There's no need to wait for Greensleeves for that. There are new ways of getting music out there: the internet is a very powerful tool. Get a move on!
You usually play the latest Jamaican releases on your show. What are you listening to at the moment?
Let's talk about dancehall artists: I like what Movado or Mr Peppa are doing, and new artists like G Mafia or Munga. There are also lots of singers. But my favourite artists remain Morgan Heritage: I find them wonderful. They make the kind of music I'd like to see break through: a great reggae band that can get on stage and set festivals alight. Of course, I say "Free Jah Cure", I'd like Jah Cure to be able to tour. There are also good producers: Don Corleon is an exceptional young producer who has proved in a short time that there's no point having been in the business for years and that it's all in the sound. There are lots of good producers in Jamaica, like Arif Cooper or Lenkie... There are also good collaborations, like what Sean Paul has done. I hear so many people criticising him because he's supposedly commercial. It's silly to say that, because Sean Paul is precisely the one who put Jamaican music out in front. I'm never critical of artists like Sean Paul or Shaggy. We need artists to look up to, who inspire us. Sizzla, Buju and Beenie need to keep making good albums; we need good bands for the great singers who are still alive: Ken Boothe, Gregory Isaacs... The future is bright for reggae: lots of people lament record sales, but it's a transition. People no longer buy records the way they used to; reggae labels and shops have to move with the times.
Catch Robbo Ranx's show live at www.bbc.co.uk/1xtra/dancehall on Tuesdays (10pm-midnight) and Thursdays (7pm-10pm).
Remerciements : Tarko / Demolisha
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