More even than the ballroom rock of San Francisco, Jamaican dub wasconceived as music by potheads for potheads--music to say "oh wow"to. Originating in the bass-only "versions" ganja-toking '70sreggae producers profferred as B sides, this is a deep, spare stylethat uses vocals primarily for decoration. English punks loved dub.The toasters who chanted on top of it inspired the first rappers.It's near the heart of electronic dance music. But it's notsongful. Because it emphasizes bass, it impacts the body directly,yet because its mixes favor expanses of silence, it's alsoabstract. So it often leaves those of unenhanced consciousnessunmoved. New dub albums and compilations have multiplied since the riseof techno, but almost all have been for specialists. A few recentcollections, however, are bigger than their niche.The Great Pablo(Music Club) cherry-picks '70s tracks by the late Augustus Pablo,foregrounding the simple tunes Pablo created on his flutelike toymelodica, which contrast sweetly with the spacy rhythmicenvironments. Big Youth's three-CDNatty Universal Dread(Blood and Fire)documents the irrepressible wordplay of the style's greatesttoaster. Purer stylistically because it's not logocentric is KingTubby'sKing Dub (Music Club). But the most compelling introduction to the style isSelectCuts From Blood & Fire (Select Cuts), which does asuperb job of reducing thebewildering catalogue of the biggest contemporary dub label toweird r&b instrumentals. Most do feature tunes, often carried bythe bass; voices singing catch-phrases fade in and out. These areessential to the nonaficionado. But the fun is in the effects--stereozooming, levels rushing and ebbing, percussion clattering orshuddering, horns curdling, bells tinkling. It's all enough to makean ex-president inhale. Playboy, Jan. 2001
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