INTERVIEW : TURBULENCE
Interview by : François-Xavier Rougeot et Alexandre Tonus
Pictures by : Benoit Collin
on Thursday, December 06th 2007 - 11 447 views
We don't hear Turbulence as often as before. His latest hit, Notorious, dates back to 2005. Since his rise, a new generation of artists has emerged, depriving him of some of the limelight. But the St Andrew deejay is far from having had his last word. And he is changing strategy. After 16 albums in seven years of activity, he intends to slow the pace, dropping quantity in favour of quality. We meet a mellower Turbulence.
Reggaefrance / If you had to pick just one encounter in your career, it would be the one with Fattis Burrell… Turbulence / “Fattis” is like a father to me. Several years ago, when I was suffering - because in the ghetto you suffer, the kind of suffering where you have no money to eat, to clothe yourself, to do anything – I met “Fattis” Burrell. He told me I had talent, and asked me to come back every Thursday and said he would see what he could do. So I went to his “school” every week. Whatever happened, I had to be there, to work. He taught me about notes, about melodies, about bands. He isn't just the kind of producer who records your voice; he does a whole body of work behind the scenes, telling you what is right and what isn't.
After I had been working with him for two years, Sizzla came to the studio one day. He heard me sing and said to me: “I like what you do.” For Sizzla to tell you that in Jamaica is something wonderful. For him to go as far as saying to “Fattis”: “I want him to open my shows,” that is what I had kept the faith for all along. I couldn't believe it. I ran to tell my mother that Sizzla wanted me to go to Europe or the United States to sing for him, and she told me I was lying, that I was a liar. For three years, I opened for Sizzla, to earn recognition and establish myself over the years. So I am very grateful to the Xterminator family for that, for giving me my chance and making it so that now is the moment, it's my turn.
In your early days, people said you were a kind of spiritual son or brother of Sizzla; do you see yourself that way? Sizzla is a great artist. I couldn't come here today and say I'm the origin of everything. When I was going to school, I already said I wanted to sound like him. Because that guy is so strong. The first time he heard me, he said to me: “You sound like me! What's going on? You're a good soldier.” But now, day after day, people can tell my style from Sizzla's, because in music you experiment with many things and you change through that. And today people can say: “That's Turbulence, that's not Sizzla.” There aren't that many similarities between Sizzla and me any more, because over the years Sizzla has developed a much rougher voice. I don't care what people may say about Sizzla, because I respect him. And I'm still learning; I listen to all styles of music.
Who, for example? I listen to Michael Jackson, Elvis Presley, 50 Cent, Tupac… I listen to their flows, their lyrics, telling myself that by combining them, by mixing certain things from rap and reggae, for example, I can end up doing my own thing. Exactly like Bob Marley, who drew on rocksteady and brought it into his reggae. Maybe I can do that too. I take music as a great university, full of icons like Bob Marley, Jacob Miller or Peter Tosh. Even Sizzla is an icon, but an icon in the making, because he isn't dead, him.
Let's talk about your latest hit, Notorious… Notorious is a song about reality. Sometimes I sit down and create songs just from a vibration. But Notorious is a song about my life, and not only mine, but that of many people in the ghetto all over the world, not just in Jamaica. Even here in Paris you have ghettos, you have the posh districts and the poor districts, just like in Jamaica. I come from the poor districts, and there, there are plenty of political conflicts and area leaders. Those leaders rely on people of lower standing. I was a follower, attached to one of them. In our day, you find more guns than you find food. Plenty of politicians are corrupt all over the world. They come into the ghettos and bring in guns and loads of other things, to force us into war and murder. Even if you don't want to know about any of it, you see the guns. I see all my brothers with guns. But music and Rastafari are lifelong commitments. People say: “He's someone notorious.” That's what the song is about. It says: “I could have been one of the most notorious,” which means I chose not to be. I tell people: “There is a choice: we can choose to be good, or to be bad.” I chose not to be bad, but good.
Did some of your friends not make the same choice? That's why I'm here to tell them this, because some of my friends died for not making the right choice. I have plenty of friends who will never grow up. They made the wrong choice, which led them into deadly traps. That's why I'm here to say these things to people. It doesn't matter what style of music you sing as long as you put love into it, as long as you put a message into it. You can sing about your girlfriend, but you must put love into it. If you sing about girls, don't be sexist, don't mistreat women. Even if you sing that you want sex, do it properly. If you sing about love, you must tell them not to be vindictive or racist, not to be hateful. That's how things move forward. Music is a vehicle that can carry any kind of message. It's a very useful tool, so you mustn't play with it.
In Jamaica, music saves a lot of people. Education isn't so widespread in Jamaica. Many people can neither read nor write. Sometimes they can't even afford to go to school, but they can sing. Many artists are practically illiterate, but music has pulled them out of the mire. I have to thank my mother, because I grew up without a father. He abandoned me when I was young and she made sure to send me to school with the little she had. I will always thank my mother, because she gave me access to education and gave me life. But music has helped a lot of people out there and I must also be grateful for my talent, music.
You have sung about repatriation on several occasions. Have you ever been to Africa? No, I've never been. But I must say something about repatriation. It isn't physically but mentally that you have to approach it. Every man is of a different origin and, in that sense, you have to lift up your mind. As the Honourable Bob Marley said: “Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery.” That's why we have to free our minds. The concept of repatriation means going beyond borders. I can't be repatriated to Africa without making a contribution. What would I go and do in Africa right now? I can't go to Africa and help the people who are hungry and suffering, because I don't have enough money for that. The day I go to Africa, it will be because I can contribute something, build schools, health centres. For now, we know deep in our hearts that repatriation is an ideal. Some people say there is no God, but we know there is a God and we keep him in our hearts. It's the same for repatriation.
So, in your heart, do you feel Africa or Jamaica more? I feel Africa.
So what does Jamaica represent for you? Jamaica is Africa too. It's its West heart, because the purpose of this West heart is to return to the East. There is the body and the spirit. Africa is a holy land, so you must think holy thoughts. We talk about elevation, so we must do things that elevate. Negative thoughts must not reach our minds. They do reach us, because we are all human beings, but when they appear, we must push them back. You disrespected me? Fine, I'll walk on by. War, in my view, really must be the last resort; the use of force really must be the ultimate means. We aren't supposed to fight. I don't lose my temper with strong personalities, because if you do it even once, you're at war. I'm not going to waste my life on that. I prefer to say: “Okay, my son, I forgive you.” I am not His Imperial Majesty, I am a servant, I make mistakes too. Equality and justice must be possible without fighting.
You talk about AIDS too. You wrote a song about it three years ago. A lot of Rastas call for burning condoms, but why burn condoms and not burn politics? Why burn condoms and not burn the drugs that kill people? If condoms were created to save lives, we are interested in life and survival. If you are a man like me and you've been with a lot of women - I'm telling you, I've been with a lot of women, because I am an African - you have to use condoms. I have to wear a condom, and I don't care what people think: protecting myself is life. I'm interested in life, not in death.
Do you have an album planned? No. I don't want to release another album for at least two or three years. I already have 16 albums out for someone so young. There are quite a few great artists who haven't made 16 albums. I'm already there; maybe it's too many.
The quality of some projects has suffered as a result. Yes, because some producers are just followers. If I release a new album that does really well, those producers who kept tracks from my early years will say to themselves that Turbulence is hot right now and will put those old tracks out again, even though they may not have the quality of what has just come out. All of that will be nothing more than a compilation to make money for their company, and they'll put out an album that I will never have heard of. All of that is very dangerous. But they won't be able to do it any more now, because I know certain aspects of the business that I didn't have a grip on before.
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