SOUNDTRACK: PROTOJE-Tiny Desk (Home) Concert #76 (September 7, 2020).
Protoje is another reggae singer (who I’d never heard of before this Tiny Desk) who seems to be breaking the mold of what reggae sounds like.
Protoje is a not-so-secret treasure who’s been a vital force in the reggae revival movement these last several years. Perched in the hills of Irish Town on the fringe of Kingston, Protoje welcomes us into his backyard (which doubles as The Habitat Studio) for a uniquely fresh spin on a Tiny Desk (home) Concert. With a custom-designed set flanked by lush greens and mountains in the distance, this creative backdrop complements the uplifting feeling of Protoje’s music.
He performs three songs from his fifth album In Search of Lost Time and ends his set with an older song.
“Deliverance” has a loud bassline from Donald Dennis and an electronic drum sound from Peter Samaru. Protoje sings and raps with a really fast delivery.
He speaks to his spiritual philosophy and faith on “Deliverance” with a chorus stating, “I hold my order, give my praises / Oh Jah, deliver me through these days, Jah deliver me / Sometimes really hard to go and face it / Oh this life can truly be amazing, amazing.”
The song is catchy and uplifting.
I really like that Lamont Savory is playing an acoustic guitar. It’s never obtrusive. In fact it often fades into the background, but it’s always there keeping the rhythm and melody afloat. As the song ends he walks over to Sean Roberts and starts messing around on Roberts’ looping box.
“Strange Happenings” opens with Savory’s quiet, pretty guitar melody. I usually find reggae to be samey and kind of dull, but these songs have a lot of vitality. And lyrically they are sweet and powerful.
to me life was easy, it was just fun and games
Until I saw that people were filled with so much pain
It’s harder to share sometimes, easier to pretend
The way we treat each other, I just don’t comprehend
And then it came as a surprise to me that Sean Roberts busted out a violin and began playing a kind of mournful solo.
“Same So” has the standard reggae rhythm but the bass line is a bit more interesting. It feels warm and inviting–much like the place where he is playing (which seems so placid it almost looks like a photograph backdrop).
After joking that “this is awkward” he proposes one more song.
He wraps his performance with his most recognizable chart-topping hit, “Who Knows,” which featured Chronixx on the original recording.
This song also has a pretty guitar opening and Protoje singing in a high, soft register.
Who knows / I just go where the trade wind blows / sending love to my friends and foes.
A message of peace in a time of hostility,
[READ: September 5, 2020] “What is Remembered”
In this story Meriel and her husband Pierre are getting ready to go to a funeral. They had to come travel to Vancouver from Vancouver Island and it was their first night in a hotel alone since their wedding night–they always traveled with their children.
This was their second funeral as a married couple. The first was a fellow teacher of Pierre’s. He was in his sixties and they felt that that was okay. What difference did it make if you died at sixty-five or seventy-five or eighty-five?
But this funeral was for Pierre’s best friend Jonas–aged twenty-nine. When she told Pierre that Jonas had died, Pierre immediately guessed suicide. But no, it was a motorcycle accident. Why had he been so certain it was a suicide?
They went to Jonas’ parents house for the reception. There’s an amusing sequence with Pierre’s mother treating Pierre like a child. But then Pierre’s mother and Jonas’ mother were distracted by the doctor who had looked after Jonas. They both approved of the man.
Later Pierre was talking to the doctor. He introduced Meriel and told him that she was going across town by bus to visit an old friend of her mother. Aunt Muriel (Meriel was named Muriel but changed the spelling after college) was in a nursing home and Meriel would feel guilty if she was this close and didn’t stop in.
Pierre wanted to drive her, but he needed to take the ferry back home. So the doctor, Doctor Asher, who had no other plans, offered to drive her.
They rode mostly in silence. When they arrived he offered to go in with her to look around. She was puzzled but then remembered he was doctor and thought nothing of it.
Aunt Muriel was sitting in the hallway smoking. Even though Muriel was plagued with cataracts and hadn’t seen Meriel in years, she recognized her immediately from her footsteps. They chatted a bit and Meriel told her about her husband and children. Then Aunt Muriel said that he man next to her was not her husband. Meriel introduced the doctor and Aunt Muriel winked at him and said “I used to be a devil myself.”
Their visit was congenial with the doctor asking as many questions as everyone else. Then it was time to leave.
When they got back in the car, he asked her where she would you like to go? When she said nothing, he proposed Stanley Park. They arrived but before they could visit the park, she felt at loose ends. Take me somewhere else she said. And the story slows it down for us.
Take me was what she had said. Take me somewhere else. Not Let’s go somewhere else. That is important to her. The risk, the transfer of power. Lets go–that would have the risk, but not the abdication, which is the start for her, in all her reliving of this moment, of the erotic slide.
And for his part?
He has to say just what he did say. He has to say Yes.
Munro has such an exquisite way with words. A story that starts out with little fanfare at a funeral, turns into something else. And yet this revolutionary moment can also turn into little more than a fond memory.
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