Few Jamaicans who grew up during the Sixties can forget waiting for the next weekend “spot” (party).
It was important after a tedious week spent in a hot, humid city to dress up and go out, to socialize with friends and dance. The key to success for any party has always been to get people dancing, and keep them dancing. On those cool Jamaican nights…dancing in a living room stripped bare of furniture…dark, almost pitch black…hearing the latest sounds booming out of big speaker cabinets…it seemed the only release for everyone’s frustrations was dancing. And at least then it didn’t seem important if you were rich or poor. Maybe it was a signal of what was to come that the poorest people had the largest speakers, but it was still only the music that counted. Nothing seemed to matter when you were dancing to Alton Ellis or Marvin Gaye: Jamaica in the Sixties was united by music.
Clement Dodd, the man who shaped so much of Jamaican music, first got interested in music by listening to American jazz: Louis Jordan, Lionel Hampton, Billy Eckstine and Ella Fitzgerald. While his commercial interests led him away from jazz, it always remained his favorite music. In the Fifties he began collecting the R&B records being brought to the island by migrant farmworkers who left Jamaica to work in Florida. It was this raw unschooled black music that struck a chord in the Jamaican psyche.
