Known as Smokey when he was behind the wheels of steel, Vincent Tarrière is a huge Jamaican music fan (amongst other things) for more than thirty years. For us he selects five tracks of his all time favorite reggae singer, Gregory Isaacs.

“I’m not gonna follow the same road some of the people preceding me have already taken – you know, ultra obscure stuff that only one or two bastards are lucky enough to own and for which a few more are willing to give everything they possess and even what they don’t. Not that I’m not one to indulge the same silly passion occasionally, but as much as I love finding rare gems in the records crates, I firmly believe: a) that rarity is not an important factor when it comes to the appreciation of the music b) and that deafness is a sure threat for those who judge the music strictly by this sole criteria. Instead, I’m gonna stick with the basics, choosing five tracks of one of my all time favourite artists, the ‘Cool Ruler’, the ‘Lonely Lover’, the one and only Gregory Isaacs. Most of them are very easily available on albums you can still find for a few bucks in flee markets or second hand record shop. I hope you’ll enjoy the ride as much as I have and I’ll be the happiest fellow if, by chance, I make you discover a title you didn’t know before – or even just arouse the need to delve back into your records collection for one album so deeply buried you haven’t listen to in a while.”
 
 
 

One One Cocoa
(Dwyer, 7”, 1972)

“The only non-album track of this selection, and consequently the rarest, available also on a few compilations. But that is not the point as I have chosen this song not for his rarity but because it is, in my humble opinion, the first track recorded by Gregory Isaacs on which he found his artistic identity, both as a singer and as a writer: as a singer, he was a scarce commodity in the reggae field, one of the few Jamaicans you cannot link to a previous artist (either American or Jamaican) and one also who hasn’t generated any known copycat; and as writer, in this particular song like in so many others ones, he embodies better than most the frame of mind of the sufferers from the ghetto who always keep faith in their destiny despite all the adversity (‘I know one of this fine day / The table’s gonna turn my way…’). The cherry on the top, which makes this track a must amongst the must haves, is the backing track, courtesy of another ‘independent as fuck’ ghetto reggae entrepreneur, the mighty Glenn Brown, creator of some of the heaviest and deadliest riddims ever. And yes, if one of you nice chaps are kind enough to offer me the original 7” on Dwyer, I’ll take it willingly and might even say ‘thanks you’ if you do insist.”
 

Love Is Overdue
(Trojan, In Person, 1974)

“Not his first hit – this privilege belong to All I Have Is Love, a Phil Pratt production –, but a massive one from 1974, and the beginning of a very fertile collaboration with Alvin Ranglin, a producer for which he recorded some of his best work. Here, as often in his songs, Gregory embodies the ‘Lonely Lover’ (one of his nicknames) on an easy-skanking riddim, opening his heart and lamenting his lost love with various discerning comments not lacking a certain sense of humour (‘Who’s gonna tell me lies and let me think they’re true, yeah / Now that my love is overdue…’) – and even managing to sounds a little bit boorish sometimes (‘Although she wasn’t the best girl / But she brought happiness into my world / And now I’m a prisoner of loneliness…). Brilliant!”
 

Loving Pauper
(Conflict, Extra Classic LP, 1978)

“The only track of this selection which is not penned by Gregory (it’s a cover of a rocksteady classic by Dobby Dobson, originally released in 1967 on the Treasure Isle label), but he sings it with such coolness and such class that he not only does it over, he takes it over and basically ruins it for anyone wanting to sing it after he’s done with it. His delivery and his articulation are second to none on this one. Yes, this man is a true crooner, the reggae equivalent of the jazz greats Nat ‘King’ Cole or Frank Sinatra – no wonder he is revered as the ‘Cool Ruler’ in reggae circles. And when he sings: ‘I got so many patches on my clothes, girl / A hole in the bottom of my shoe / Financially, I’m a pauper / But when it comes to lovin’, I’m alright…’, I can’t help but be thrilled.”
 

Slavemaster
(Cash and Carry, Mr. Isaacs LP, 1978)

“Contrary to some wrongly held beliefs, Gregory was not only a man who sang about love, but also a man capable of expressing the pain and harsh reality of his ghetto peers as only few could. And the beauty of it was that he didn’t have to change his stance to do so – the topic of a song may switch from love to consciousness, but the plea remains the same – as he was always the voice of the voiceless. Nowhere it is more evident than on his Mr. Isaacs LP, an album that contains some of his most socially conscious and angriest songs (Storm, Sacrifice, Handcuff, Set the Captives Free, to name a few). And when he sings: ‘If I don’t get my desire / Then I’ll set the plantations on fire…’, there’s no place for even a shadow of a doubt on his willingness to do so in the mind of the listener.”
 

Party in the Slum
(Front Line, Cool Ruler LP, 1978)

“When he released Cool Ruler, the first of his two album on Front Line, Virgin’s reggae subsidiary, Gregory Isaacs was, with Dennis Brown, the most popular singer in Jamaica, and a supreme master of his craft. Later, the bruises of life – a long love affair with narcotic substances and numerous stays behind the bars of various prisons – would alter his voice, but at the time, he could do no wrong. And nobody was in better position than him – despite all his success, he was still livin’ in the heart of the ghetto – to celebrate the fragile respite of the tribal war that has brougt nothing but bloodshed, tears and desolation to Jamaica (‘It seems that mankind is been reborn again / The worst of enemies is now the best of friends / And everything is gonna be alright…’).”