Interview by : Alexandre Tonus
Pictures by : Benoit Collin
on Wednesday, December 26th 2007 - 10 132 views
He was not yet six when he recorded his first words into a microphone. At nearly forty, Omar Perry is nonetheless only at the start of his recording career: he has just released his first album. The son of Lee Scratch Perry, who grew up in Jamaica rubbing shoulders with the roots reggae greats who came to record in his father's studio, chose to leave the island for London, then The Gambia… before finally landing in Belgium. And his first album, "Man Free", is produced by the Frenchman Guillaume "Steppa" Briard. We meet the son of the Wizard.
Reggaefrance / What is it like growing up as the son of Lee "Scratch" Perry?
Omar Perry / I'm lucky to have a father who did so much for reggae. As a young man, having the opportunity to live that was something huge, which perhaps I didn't fully realise at the time. It was magic! Now I've grown up, I've had the opportunity to do great things. My journey continues and I realise that I have a different job to do: trying to bring a different vibe to Africa. Reggae was already there when I wasn't, but they needed someone to inform them and show them what roots music is, this music that was made in Jamaica.
In Gambia, people live the life that we lived in Jamaica; it's as if the Jamaica of the old days had come back to Africa. I saw that my mission wasn't in Jamaica, which is why I decided to settle in Gambia. I realised they already had everything, they even had more than me. It's quite mind-blowing. I've heard some guys sing, and they sound like Jamaicans. That's how they are, they have it in them.
Many artists sing about repatriation. As someone who has been there, do you think Africa could be a paradise for Rastas?
It could be, because paradise is more or less everywhere. It depends on how you want to live. You can live in Africa, you don't need to live on a big estate, as long as you have something to cultivate, as long as you have your boat to go fishing… Plenty of people talk about Africa and have never set foot there. As a kid, with my friends, some would say “I want to go to London,” “I want to go to America,” “I want to go to Canada.” In my mind, it could only be Africa. Many Africans, when I arrived, said to me: “All I think about is leaving, and you come here?”
Maybe it's because you grew up among all those old Rasta artists who sang about Africa all day long?
It's possible. But I know I had a mission, and that I had to do it.
What do you remember of those days at the Black Ark?
I mostly remember Junior Byles. I can see him stretched out on the veranda floor. He was already in a bad way back then, but he's a positive person. He's a bit like my second mentor.
From Gambia, you eventually came to Europe and Belgium; for what reason?
I realised that my work there was finished. I was called to do shows in Belgium, so I made the round trip. But I was called back to do more shows. I realised there was a huge opportunity for me to seize. There is no reggae scene in Belgium. There are touring artists who pass through Belgium, but locally, there is nobody.
You've often been seen on stage but always as a support act. Frustrating?
It's true. But you're in one place today, you'll be somewhere else tomorrow. You have to start somewhere.
It was in England, with Adrian Sherwood, that you released your first single.
Yes, he's the one who produced Rasta Meditation. His music is so incredible, it's still alive. The single was very dub. Today I've decided to redo Rasta Meditation in a different style.
Your new album has just come out. What does its title, "Man Free", mean?
It isn't a claim that we are all free. Think about this: what are we free from? Today's society produces a lot of distractions. You have so many in front of your eyes that you can't even think any more. You see flashes of light, images following each other at top speed. It flashes. Mentally, it's as if they were trying to keep your brain busy so that it works for them. And if your brain no longer works for you, it's because it no longer belongs to you. It's even worse today. If someone loses their job and ends up on the street, people will walk past without looking at them. Because it's not their problem. They have no time for that. People move around in a robotic way. We must be aware that we have the power to change our lives and our destinies. That's what the title says.
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