https://www.reggae-vibes.com/articles/2021/07/lloyd-bulwackie-barnes-interview/
''Bullwackies played a major role in the history of Jamaican music as the first to set up a reggae recording studio in New York City, a hub for newly arrived West Indians in the late 70s, most specifically Jamaicans fleeing political tension and increasing violence back home. Among them was Lloyd Barnes aka Bullwackie or Fada Wackie.
Bringing his experience as engineer for Duke Reid’s Treasure Isle and knowledge from mentor Prince Buster, Wackies brought authentic yard vibes to the Bronx, where he set up his studio and accompanying record store. His sound stood out from other reggae producers of the time. Lo-fi textures were met with eerie harmonies and that behind-the-beat, head-nod swag. While he worked with both well-known (Sugar Minott, Leroy Sibbles) and unknown (Jah Batta, Chris Wayne) artists, he always achieved that unique vibe no other producer could.
When I worked at the infamous East Village reggae record store Jammyland in the late ’90s, Wackies himself would come in to restock our shelves and handle b-i. Armed with the reddest eyes I’ve seen to this day, he carried himself with a casual yet certain sense of pride— the original NY dub ambassador. One of my most distinct memories while working there were the Japanese DJs who would come in to Jammyland with suitcases in hand, explaining they had come straight there, before checking into their hotels, with three-page-long lists of records that always started with 40 Wackies titles. It was clear: Japan loves Wackies!
Fast forward to 2013, skate gear kingpins Supreme have come with a Wackies collection, celebrating the label’s most visual releases like Horace Andy’s Dance Hall Style, the Lovejoys’ Lovers Rock Reggae Style and, of course, the label’s iconic Lion of Judah logo. While you’re likely to see kids wearing these tees who have no clue what a “Wackies” is, maybe a handful will go as far as googling the name. For their benefit, and your listening pleasure, we went ahead and picked some of our favorite Wackies joints from the iconic label’s archives.''
—DJ Gravy
40 Years Later, Reggae’s Heart Still Beats in the Bronx
''Bullwackies played a major role in the history of Jamaican music as the first to set up a reggae recording studio in New York City, a hub for newly arrived West Indians in the late 70s, most specifically Jamaicans fleeing political tension and increasing violence back home. Among them was Lloyd Barnes aka Bullwackie or Fada Wackie.
Bringing his experience as engineer for Duke Reid’s Treasure Isle and knowledge from mentor Prince Buster, Wackies brought authentic yard vibes to the Bronx, where he set up his studio and accompanying record store. His sound stood out from other reggae producers of the time. Lo-fi textures were met with eerie harmonies and that behind-the-beat, head-nod swag. While he worked with both well-known (Sugar Minott, Leroy Sibbles) and unknown (Jah Batta, Chris Wayne) artists, he always achieved that unique vibe no other producer could.
When I worked at the infamous East Village reggae record store Jammyland in the late ’90s, Wackies himself would come in to restock our shelves and handle b-i. Armed with the reddest eyes I’ve seen to this day, he carried himself with a casual yet certain sense of pride— the original NY dub ambassador. One of my most distinct memories while working there were the Japanese DJs who would come in to Jammyland with suitcases in hand, explaining they had come straight there, before checking into their hotels, with three-page-long lists of records that always started with 40 Wackies titles. It was clear: Japan loves Wackies!
Fast forward to 2013, skate gear kingpins Supreme have come with a Wackies collection, celebrating the label’s most visual releases like Horace Andy’s Dance Hall Style, the Lovejoys’ Lovers Rock Reggae Style and, of course, the label’s iconic Lion of Judah logo. While you’re likely to see kids wearing these tees who have no clue what a “Wackies” is, maybe a handful will go as far as googling the name. For their benefit, and your listening pleasure, we went ahead and picked some of our favorite Wackies joints from the iconic label’s archives.''
—DJ Gravy
Lloyd Barnes, in the company's Bronx studios, has run Wackie’s — one of the longest-running reggae studios in the United States — since the late 1970s, in New York
By Brandon Wilner | nytimes.com | Jan. 5, 2020
Lloyd Barnes has run the Wackie’s recording studio and label since the late 1970s. As he prepares for his next chapter, he wants to ensure its spirit lives on.
Lloyd Barnes carried a shopping bag full of cleaning supplies up to a humble recording studio tucked above a financial services center and a Caribbean restaurant in the Eastchester neighborhood of the Bronx. A colleague was in a session with a dancehall vocalist, and Barnes pointed out his most recent nonmusical project, a custom-upholstered sofa embroidered with his record label’s logo: a dreadlocked Lion of Judah with its tail cocked up aggressively, and a flag displaying a star of David next to the name Wackie’s.
Together, the studio and label make up one of the most respected reggae institutions in the United States, and Barnes, a calm, lanky man with a penchant for crisp clothing, is their founder, chief producer and champion. Wackie’s began in 1976, but 1979 was the year he and his team locked in to their sound and released records by stars in their prime: Johnny Osbourne, Wayne Jarrett and the Heptones’ Leroy Sibbles. The label went on to put out cult classics like Horace Andy’s “Dance Hall Style” and Love Joys’ “Lovers Rock Reggae Style,” which, despite multiple reissue campaigns, are still not easy to find.
It’s been 40 years since Wackie’s hit its stride, and it has held a prominent place in New York’s music history ever since. First as a reggae sound system that put on parties, later as a studio and record shop, it has served as an expression of the immigrant-led aesthetic exchanges that came to define the city’s musical fabric. But Barnes isn’t sure how much longer he’ll be able to focus on his beloved studio. Now 75, he underwent double bypass surgery in 2017 and later developed nerve damage affecting his neck and arms. Though he recovered, he’s now looking back at his career with appreciation.
“I’m just thankful I’ve gotten to make music how I want — a true feeling from within,” he said in an interview in the studio’s break room, decorated with posters for international events and the label’s original certificate of incorporation. “When you do that for as long as I have, you’re filled with gratitude.”
His concerns now are ensuring that his studio carries on the traditions of roots reggae and lovers rock — the primary styles he works in — and sharing his knowledge with the younger people who populate it. “I’m like a primary doctor,” he said. “I help them with whatever part of their music I can, but I know when to offer my skill and when to recommend someone else who can do that style better.”
Barnes, known to reggae fans as Bullwackie and to friends simply as Wackie, was born in the Trench Town neighborhood of Kingston, Jamaica, and joined his mother in New York in 1967. His nickname traces back to Trench Town, where his friends wanted a wild-sounding name for their crew. After deciding that their first choice was too lewd, they settled on Bullwackie Boys.
Trench Town is known as the birthplace of reggae, where bandleaders like Alton Ellis and Delroy Wilson forged the upbeat dance style of ska into the cool sway of rocksteady. Barnes recalled seeing greats like Ellis, Bob Marley and Ken Boothe around the neighborhood. He got involved with his church’s music program, helping to pump the pipe organ on Sundays, which also gave him access to other instruments. When he heard the new music bubbling up from the nascent Rastafari movement, he felt naturally drawn to it.
He would sit in on Duke Reid and Prince Buster sessions at Federal Records, the studio that later housed Bob Marley’s Tuff Gong label. Then he came across the work of the dub reggae innovator King Tubby.
“He was the real king of dub; he set the pace,” Barnes said. “There was always a standard way to do a mix, but when he used effects and played with the vocal or drum track, there was real expression and courage. Seeing that gave me the picture of freedom.”
Alongside Glen Adams’s Capo Records and Linval Thompson’s Thompson Sound, Wackie’s was one of the first reggae labels established in the United States. Most didn’t survive the switch to CDs and the rise of dancehall in the 1990s, but Barnes persevered by offering audio services to other artists and labels, and continuing to believe in his own musical instincts. Today, Wackie’s is probably the longest-running American reggae studio.
In 1976, Barnes set up shop at 4781 White Plains Road in the Bronx, where his studio had an adjoining record shop called Wackie’s House of Music. At the time he worked in construction, and spent his earnings on equipment from the Sam Ash music store on West 48th Street in Manhattan. Financial constraints led to technological ones, which required resourcefulness in his recording strategies. The result was a rich and textured sound that gave his studio’s music an audible signature, which in reggae and dub carries just as much weight as the songwriting; the studio itself is considered an instrument.
Barnes recorded and released albums by a stable of lesser-known and emerging vocalists and songwriters — Love Joys, Milton Henry, Junior Delahaye, Annette Brissett and Prince Douglas — all backed by his mighty studio band, the six-piece Wackie’s Rhythm Force. On the early hip-hop single “Wack Rap” by Solid C., Bobby D. and Kool Drop, Barnes experimented with styles that demonstrated the Bronx’s swirl of influences at the time, combining M.C.s with a disco beat and elements of dub production. His innovations appealed to artists in other genres, too: The dub techno innovators Moritz von Oswald and Mark Ernestus started reissuing Wackie’s records on their Basic Channel label in 2001.
Wackie’s relocated to Englewood, N.J., after the sale of the White Plains Road building in the late 1980s. Barnes spent much of the following decade in Kingston helping run a label the reggae musician Sugar Minott put together to bring up younger artists, but returned to New York in 1998 when his mother became ill. Around that time, Wackie’s moved back to the Bronx; it settled into its current location on Boston Road in 2014.
Ira Heaps of the now-defunct East Village record store Jammyland met Barnes when his shop became an outlet for some Wackie’s pressings done in 1998. For Heaps, the label captured a distinct New York spirit. “The dark, sparse sound was what I loved,” he wrote in an email. “New York was a great place in the ’70s and ’80s. It was dangerous, but full of soul. That whole vibe definitely found its way into the music.”
In 2013 the streetwear brand Supreme released a line of clothing honoring the label. “I grew up with that Sugar Minott record,” the company’s special projects director, West Rubinstein, said, referring to the 1983 album “Dance Hall Showcase Vol. II.” While the Wackie’s line wasn’t the most marketable collection, the goal was “to educate, to try to help young people understand the real culture that’s right beneath their feet, particularly in New York City.”
In the late 2000s Barnes took a break from recording and releasing new music, but continued to offer the mixing and mastering services that have paid the studio’s bills. He still makes his way to the studio several days a week to oversee projects he’s working on with his protégés, Eric “Synester” McGill and Steadley “Meddz” Reid, both producers and digital engineers. He records with his daughters Crystal and Jasmine, and is still working with artists whose names have adorned Wackie’s records for decades: Claudette Brown of Love Joys, Jah Batta, the Wackie’s Rhythm Force members Jerry Harris and Jerry Johnson, Prince Douglas and Coozie Mellers.
The studio has incorporated digital tools and techniques alongside the analog gear that Barnes has used for decades, but Barnes still considers himself a proponent of old-school recording techniques and hands-on instrumentation.
“Imagine you’re sitting in front of a program, and you got 500 hi-hats, and you’ve never listened to a real drum set,” he said. “I always tell the people around me: a real hi-hat, you can make it sound like anything. But you can’t make anything sound like a real hi-hat.”
Barnes and his wife, Sonia Cole Barnes, have lived in Yonkers for the past 20 years, and he still dreams of opening a music center in the Bronx to provide young people access to instruments and offer the kind of education and enthusiasm that he was exposed to back in Trench Town. He recalled going to watch studio sessions and being frustrated that he wasn’t permitted near the piano.
“I remember that all the time,” he said. “I used to say: ‘One day I would love to have a studio. Then people could touch the piano.’”
Interview by Shizuo “EC”Ishii Translated by Ichiro Suganuma | 2022.12.28
An interview published in Riddim Online in August 2017.
I had an interview scheduled with Lloyd Barnes. He's Bullwackie, the boss of Wackie's, one of New York's leading reggae labels. But on the day of our appointment, he didn't answer the phone. I was a bit concerned, so I tried Skype a few days later on his birthday. He told me he'd been hospitalized for heart bypass surgery and had just been discharged yesterday.
“Then let's try again in a week,” I said, and we hung up.
●How are you feeling a week after surgery? Can we do the interview?
Lloyd Barnes (B): I feel much better than before. Still resting at home, but I'm fine.
●First, about your childhood—what kind of environment did Lloyd grow up in?
B: My father died when I was eight. He was a soldier in Jamaica during World War II, when I was born. I was born in Jones Town, Trench Town. That area used to be a garbage dump before it was called the Jungle. Life there wasn't bad. I went to public school with my brothers and sisters. I lived with my mother. She sold clothes she sewed at the market. I learned to sew too, to help out. Later, I learned tailoring and started making men's clothes too. I was interested in it. I made clothes for Stranger Cole. He was my childhood friend; we grew up together. Ken Boothe, Gladdy (Gladstone Anderson), and all the others were from the same area too. So there was always music everywhere. I also did interior work and decorating. I loved playing cricket and soccer.
Back then, ska was at its peak. Meaning the early days. I started going to Duke Reid's Treasure Isle Studios a lot. Stranger Cole did too. He worked a lot with Duke Reid. And then there were the Skatalites. We hung out with them a lot back then too. I even sang for Prince Buster once. When I was a kid. That was a long time ago (laughs). One song I recorded with Prince Buster was “While I Was Walking.” It was a ska-style song. I also did a children's song, “Ging Gang Goolie,” in the ska style. The musicians were Johnny on drums and Leroy (Sibbles) on bass. I was always around music.
●When was that?
B: Around the early 60s. I came to America in 1967. Back then, I was always at Treasure Isle Studios. Stranger Cole was often running the recording sessions at the time. Tommy McCook and Don Drummond were there too. That was way back in the early days. It was when Prince Buster was singing songs like “Wash Wash.” Around that time, Muhammad Ali actually visited him in Jamaica.
●Huh, really?
B: Yeah, Prince Buster and Muhammad Ali were friends. You know Prince Buster was a boxer, right? They also shared the common ground of being Muslims. Prince Buster and Muhammad Ali were such similar personalities and got along so well that they'd joke around, like Prince Buster telling Ali, “If you fought me, I'd knock you out in two rounds.”
●Why did Lloyd decide to move to New York?
B: Back then, Jamaica was rife with political conflict, and Kingston wasn't safe. Before that, you could walk anywhere in Jamaica without a problem, but the political strife changed everything. It divided Jamaica. That wasn't good for music. A lot of singers ended up having to fight each other just because they lived in different areas. I didn't want to get involved in politics, but suddenly I couldn't go to places I used to go all the time. The young guys didn't like that. I lived in the same area as Bunny Wailer and Peter Tosh, and Bob (Marley) practiced there too. White Street. Bongo Jerry was always playing guitar. That was the early days. Back then, there were two keyboardists. One was Theophilus Beckford. They called him Boggy. He sang a few songs himself too, like “Easy Snapping,” which was his. He was from Trench Town. The other one was “Gladdy” Anderson. The singers we hung out with a lot back then were Ken Boothe, Stranger Cole, Patsy (Millicent Todd), and others. Gladdy was the keyboard player of that era. It was a really good time. Jackie Mittoo came later.
●How did you start your own studio and label in NY? Why did you do that?
B: When I came to NY, I had a vision. Back in Jamaica, even if you went to a studio, you rarely got to touch the instruments or equipment. Nobody could touch anything, and it was really hard to get involved. So I told myself: someday I'll play on my own stuff. And I'd make sure other people could touch it too. If you wanted to be a keyboard player, you should be able to touch the keyboard. It was really strict in Jamaica. Only the engineer could touch the mixer. Even if you wanted to be an engineer, you couldn't do anything if you couldn't touch the mixer. If you owned an instrument, you didn't want anyone else to touch it. So I decided to do it myself. After moving to New York, I worked on construction sites and did interior decorating work I learned in school. Then one day, I took all the money I'd earned and went to a music shop. Drums, and a mixing console... I spent every last penny on them. There was this music store in Manhattan called Sam Ash. I drove there in my big old Chevy Impala station wagon, loaded up all the gear, and drove back to the Bronx. I never went back to my old jobs after that. Then, day after day, I was completely absorbed in building my own studio. It was incredibly tough, but it was what I truly wanted to do. Once the studio started functioning bit by bit, friends from Jamaica would stop by when they came to NY, and things gradually got better.
●When did you start Wackie's?
B: I started it at home in the early '70s. I was running a sound system and started recording dub plates at home. It was on 211th Street in the Bronx. That was from the late '70s into the '80s. Actually, the Joe Morgan we just released was recorded in that 211th Street studio in the early '80s. Everyone was excited. Good stuff lasts forever.
●So you moved again from there? Why was that?
B: That studio was in the basement, and there was a water pipe problem upstairs that flooded the whole place. So no more basements for me. That's why I moved to 4731 White Plains Road. That became Wackie's House of Music. I stayed there for about 13 years. Around 1980, I met Sonny (Ochiai) and learned about OVERHEAT. Moving Wackie's to Sonny's basement in New Jersey... that was so long ago. Even now, I still talk with Ishii like this. It makes me very happy, and I respect him deeply. We're doing different things in different places, but for me, OVERHEAT is Wackie's. We both put our hearts into it. I'm really glad to be involved.
When I went to Japan, the Japanese people were really good to me. One day, before a stage show, they took me way backstage, handed me a joint, and this guy said, “Jamaica, Japan is jamaican people.” It was a long time ago, but I remember it well (laughs).
● Please tell us the origin of the name Wackie's.
B: Back then in Europe, groups were popular, like the Teddy Boys and other British groups. They'd hang out on street corners dressed in their own unique styles. That influence had reached Jamaica too, so we were thinking of a group name for ourselves. It was an all-male group, no women. A female cow is called a heifer, but since it was just guys, we went with bull. And “wacky” was a joke—in Jamaica, they call the male organ “cocky.” So we made up the word and stuck it to “bull.” Funny story, but Bullwackie has a nice ring to it, right? It started as our group name in Jamaica. The Bullwackie Boys. Then when I moved to America, I started a sound system and began playing at various parties. That sound system's name was Bullwackie's Disco. We'd get called to play at underground parties, bringing our speakers and records to play music. Since the sound system was called Bullwackie's Disco, people started calling me Bullwackie. So originally, it was the name of our group of friends in Jamaica, Bullwackie, which became the sound system name Bullwackie's Disco. Then everyone started calling me Bullwackie, and before I knew it, it felt like my personal name. That's why when I started the label, I called it Wackie's. It felt more like a group name that way. I did it thinking about the friends who influenced me and grew up with me.
●Was it the '90s? Back when I was going to Jamaica to record about once every three months, I heard Lloyd was staying in Kingston for a while. I had some free time late one night, so I went to Sugar Minott's Youth Promotion studio, and he was really there. What was he doing back then?
B: You know Sugar used to record a lot at Wackie's when he came to America. It was the only Jamaican studio in NY back then, so we built a good relationship. That's why I was going over to help step up Youth Promotion. Buying equipment the studio needed and shipping it to Jamaica, used instruments, everything I could get my hands on. I was also doing his voicings, which was a huge job. I was going back and forth between NY and Jamaica building up the Youth Promotion studio.
●Actually, today (July 10th) was Sugar Minott's anniversary. So many incredible artists emerged from Youth Promotion, like Tenor Saw, Yami Bolo, and others. I'd love to hear from Lloyd about Sugar, who was such a close friend.
B: He was a comrade who loved music. We tried different things together. He was always thinking about Youth Promotion. He was trying to help the young artists Jamaica is trying to grow right now. But when we tried recording Youth Promotion artists in Jamaica and releasing them in America, people wanted to hear Sugar Minott. So in the end, we'd re-record tracks in America with Sugar Minott on them. That was to put money into Youth Promotion. But the young artists couldn't understand that. Why was Sugar voicing that track? It was necessary for Youth Promotion. That's how it was in the beginning, but gradually, what we were doing started to gain recognition. These are just parts of his life. We hung out a lot, traveled together. We even lived together as friends. There's still unfinished business to this day. Actually, there are about two albums' worth of unreleased Sugar Minott recordings. Tracks that haven't been released yet. I always think about it. Sugar suddenly passed away. For me, promoting his new music is incredibly difficult. Years have passed, and most of the songs have never been heard by anyone. I love those recordings. But he's gone. I also believe time heals wounds. He was special to me. I learned so much from him. I think he learned from me too. We accomplished a lot of good things together.
● Will those recordings be released someday?
B: Maybe someday. It's very special. So I think it has to be for a special occasion, not just for money. I find those recordings very interesting and I like them. So I hope someday they can be shared with everyone. But you never know what will happen.
●When Sugar Minott came to Japan in 1984, he introduced his backing band Gladdy, saying, “This guy is special.”
B: I see. I worked a lot with Takion (who organized Japan Splash), but I also liked OVERHEAT. Back then, OVERHEAT released reggae in the Foundation style. I remember Mute Beat. I love that trumpet, that horn sound. Takion gave me opportunities too. Looking back after all these years, you realize it. That you love this work. Ishii puts his heart into it. That makes a difference.
●Speaking of which, we released Mute Beat from Wackie's in the US, and Lloyd came to SF (San Francisco). We did a Mute Beat tour together, hitting SF, LA, and NY. Conversely, we released albums here in Japan that Wackie's recorded, like Lee Perry and Sugar. So, what was the hardest part about running Wackie's?
B: Probably the expenses needed to keep the studio going. But music always came first. I believed in what I was doing, and even when there were financial reasons, I didn't change my mind. I'm very happy now. We haven't changed. I've met so many people. Many men and young guys come up to me to say, “Thanks for inspiring me.” Some aren't even musicians. They say I gave them the inspiration to keep doing what they believe in. Some were artists or painters too. People working independently, trying to achieve something. They see Wackie's as a symbol of inspiration, of believing, fighting, and succeeding. Hearing that Wackie's impacted their lives makes me incredibly happy. All I did was pour something I felt into it. Sacrifice comes with doing what you love. I've kept Wackie's going for 45 to 50 years, and I've been fighting the whole time.
●Now there are many reggae labels. How is Wackie's different from the others?
B: A lot of people see music as just a business. But Wackie's sees music as love. We can do the same work for free as we would for a million dollars (laughs). That's a huge difference, right? While some people only think about money, we only think about the music. That way, we can be honest and create our own vibe. We don't have to worry about unnecessary things. I prioritize people who love creativity. We're all different. No two people are alike. Fingerprints are different, and so are ways of thinking. I want to be part of the unusual group. Not everything has to be the same. I like my “difference.” That's why I still produce what I think of in my head. There's always something I want to do in my mind. It's my life's work, so I keep doing it.
●Basic Channel in Germany is reissuing Wackie's vinyl. How did that come about?
B: Even before that, my assistant had suggested reissues, but I didn't think he understood what I wanted to do, so I hadn't pursued it.
But then a friend in London introduced me to Mark Ernestus from Basic Channel. We decided to do something together, starting with just one 12-inch. One side was Wackie's, the other Basic Channel. About five years later, I spoke with him again, and we decided to reissue the Wackie's catalog through Basic Channel. I respect Mark. He came to my house in America, and we spent time together. We get along well. He understands and supports me. He's always concerned about whether I'm okay. I respect him with love. Like Ishii.
●What do you seek in reggae?
B: I understand music evolves. But that era was with us. The original dancehall. Sugar Minott, Little John, Johnny Osbourne—those are the artists I think of when I say dancehall. Now it's more pop reggae. The lyrics are quite different. Less conscious, more sexual. Of course, music is music, so it's up to the listener. But young people grow up too. They'll have families someday, kids, and learn to respect things. I think that's how it changes. Original roots rock reggae, lovers rock, dub music, dancehall, steppers style. And they call today's music dancehall, but it needs a different name. It's a bit confusing. Everything else is clear. Reggae has always been lovers rock, roots & culture, political perspectives. Reggae isn't just about the sexual side like sex. But it's not the music that's the problem, just the name being confusing. When you say dancehall music, you don't know which one you mean. Is it new dancehall or the type of dancehall like Sugar Minott? I toured the world spreading Sugar Minott's dancehall, but it was also roots & culture and lovers rock.
●What are you working on now?
B: I'm still making roots music, lovers rock, one drop. Aggressive 80s, 90s steppers dancehall. It's the original style. I've got a lot of fans in Europe. They love my 80s, 90s style. That's what they want. Right now I'm working with Jah Love. It's like U-ROY. Younger and more live. More ups and downs. 90s style steppers, aggressive style reggae. And then there's Lovers Rock too. I'm making it with my two daughters. There are talented guys, good places to make music, and young guys coming up, which is great. There's a crew of skilled musicians and good singers. I feel people are paying attention to what I do. I always love music.
●Thanks for the interview today. To celebrate Lloyd's recovery, let's make a collab T-shirt with Wackie's and Riddim Online. This is a first for me!
B: Even now, all kinds of people approach me, proposing collaborations, but I basically don't do them. Unless it's something special, that is. Like making original champagne with friends, or crafting special skateboards with new designs to hang on the wall. With Ishii, it's fine whether it's one T-shirt or a million. In my opinion, good guys are few and far between. But Ishii is among the very best of them. If Ishii says he wants to do something, I'd never say no.
So, it seems Lloyd Barnes' heart bypass surgery went well. We look forward to more cool NY DUB from him.
Wackies - Wackie Fever
selected by a.p. '02
taken from the ten tape set
''past - present - future''
compiled by d.b.
Artist: Wackies
Type: Bootleg / Unauthorized
Fromat: 2 x CDr
Released: 2002
Style: Roots Reggae, Dub, Deejay
1. Wayne Jarrett - Holy Mount Zion 3:05
2. Owen Stewart - Beautiful Girl Like You 2:40
3. Harrold Butler - Dedication Rock 1:52
4. Wayne Jarrett - Come Lets Go 3:18
5. Joe Axumite - No Equal Rights 3:25
6. John Clarke - Pollution 2:45
7. Horace Andy - Serious Thing 4:16
8. Wayne Jarrett - Mount Zion Dub 2:08
9. Chosen Brothers - March Down Babylon 3:08
10. Jerry Harris - Wackie Music 2:20
11. Milton Henry - Them A Devil 2:46
12. Bullwackie's All Stars - Pollution Version 2:14
13. Joe Morgan - Basement Session 3:31
14. Ken Boothe - Stop This World 2:16
15 & 16. Prince Douglas - March Down Babylon Dub / The Mysterious Mixer - Hot And Cold 7:22
17. Lloyd Hemmings - Could You Believe 4:22
18. Jah Batta - DJ Version 3:38
19. Fabian Cooke - That's Not All 2:50
20. Annette Brissett - Hard To Find 3:03
21. Calabash - Zion Land 3:53
22. Jah Clarke - Tell It To Them 3:37
23. John Clarke - You Like To Borrow 4:35
24. Joe Morgan - Basement Dub 3:20
Disc 2
1. Wayne Jarrett - You & I 3:28
2. John Clarke - Babylon Spanking 3:21
3 & 4. Audley Rollins - More Water Than Floor / The Heptones - Hope You're Doing Fine 8:41
5. Jerry Johnson - Saxman Special 3:26
6. Love Joys - Down In The Valley 3:40
7. Wayne Jarrett - Live It Up 3:40
8. Wayne Jarrett - Praise Jah 3:43
9. Itopia - Creation 2:51
10. Jah Carlos - Black Harmony 2:57
11. Wackie's Rhythm Force - Give It Away Dub 4:03
12. Bullwackie All Stars - Every Tongue Dub 2:52
13. Jah Tuff - Thriller In Manilla 3:02
14. Jerry Harris - Spreading All Over 3:48
15. Clive Hunt - Rockford Rock 4:03
16. Ras Menelik - Chant Down Apartheid 3:19
17. Horace Andy - This Is Reggae Music 2:46
18. Sugar Minott - International Herb 4:42
19 & 20. Horace Andy - Problems / Santa Ranking - Nuh Put It Deh 5:52
21. Munchie & Corner Crew - A-Dis-Ya-Dub 3:02
22. Itopia - Creation Dubwise Version 2:31
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