Interview: Protoje Discusses The Roots Reggae Revival Movement

“Who Knows,” a collaborative single between Reggae Revival artist’s Chronixx and Protoje, sounds like a hit poised for success. A smooth mixture of deep bass, Chronixx’s crooning voice, and Protoje’s positive raps easily brought me in when I first heard it upon his Youtube channel recently. A few weeks back, during his travels to New York before his European tour, we broke bread and I was able to learn more about his artistry. And although I never asked the roots of his name, I do know that every artist chooses why their name means that much to them. Just from speaking with the 32 year-old, it’s obvious that, as his name states, he’s a real student of world music.

With help from his older cousin, renowned Reggae/Pop Producer Don Corleone, Phillip “Winta” James, and his band The Indiggnation, Protoje’s created a sound that is in one tongue pop but stands lyrically with the precedent that Roots Reggae has set. Listening to his music in the weeks before our encounter, I can see the parallels in what he’s created and what has been created before him. The music is clean enough for anyone to listen to, but it’s enforced with strong feelings about love, and politics as well.

When we met downtown, he was flanked by his team including public relations guide Sunny, and his photographer accomplice Che. We were all famished and left their Soho spot on a breezy warm day in search of some tasty vegan foods. I could tell he was fatigued from talking about his music all day, so I set aside time for him to reset his mind. It’s been his first visit to New York City in a while and he hadn’t been here since his friends left him trapped inside of a New Jersey apartment, with little to do. This was long before people recognized him on the street and were traveling to see him show up at Miss Lilly’s, a popular New York spot dedicated to Reggae culture. Just the night before he’d met with Va$htie and Joey Bada$$ at her Birthday party and New York City seemed to taking a liking to the still, burgeoning musical artist.

Once our food was set at Wild Ginger’s scrumptious house of Thai, I decided to lay my green iPhone 5c on the table and just allowed us to talk and vibe before pressing the record button in my memo’s application. He was sporting a green, red, and yellow beanie with his dreadlocks neatly tucked inside. Though his eyes were weary, he was deep in thought. Possibly it was about his upcoming tour in Europe, and the road that lies ahead.

Initially, Protoje struck me as someone who doesn’t knows how he should be perceived in American media, and so the beginning of our conversation was more bland, but during our meal, he settled himself and revealed as a fan of both American music and Jamaican music. His affinity for rap finds himself somewhere in the middle as he promises his next record will have much more rap than his last project, The 8 Year Affair. Some of the words on that record are a cry for Kingston and about a path toward enlightenment. It reminded me of when Damian Marley’s 2005 hit “Welcome To Jam Rock” crossed over to American Charts when I was attending High School in Baltimore and how his lyrics, though from a distant place, still dealt with the street perspective that we were going through. As I sat across the dinner table with Protoje, and his friends, at Wild Ginger in Soho, we recanted those Damian Marley’s lyrics back and forth, and we made connection through his favorite songs and mind. He was able to speak about his influences with fluidity, and about how there is a strong possibilty that not only Reggae, but music from Jamaica could take the U.S by storm once again; this time with a different tune.

So, what’s going on with your upcoming album? Is it going to be similar to your previous work? I feel like you’ve been able to create an organized sound within your projects.

That’s the type of artist that I try to be and I try to create on the third album, it’s a whole package. I put a lot of thought into what’s going to be track 1, and track 2, and track 3. I’m excited for for people to hear it from 1 to 12.

Was all the production handled by Don Corleone? How was the experience?

He created the first two and I’ve been way more hands on with the production of this album. He’s one of the greatest reggae producers. Historically, he’s worked with so many reggae artists. He was known for a certain sound. My sound is known for big heavy bass, and his style is more R&B, and this album I really wanted to dig into what I wanted to do.

What sound of Reggae are you trying to create? They’re calling your sound a new edge of Roots Reggae. Can you elaborate on what that is, and how that correlates with the origins or if it does at all?

Our music is changing the perception of what the way you look at Reggae music. Bob Marley and many of those artists were very influenced by Country music and Rhythym and Blues at the time. We have lots of influence of Hip Hop. These songs have a little bit more changing up of the rhyme scheme every couple of bars. It’s more of me being an artist from Jamaica who does music.

What’s the biggest misconception in America, or in general about Reggae Music? Rastafari Culture?

That it’s just resort or just slow kind of music and a lot of people think that it stops after the ’80’s. Rastafari culture is still pretty new, and we’re talking less than 100 years. For me, it’s about the teachings but when something is new there’s going to be lots of differences.

Do you feel like people are waving the flag in vein of what true Rastafari culture represents.

It’s taken on a whole things, but at the end of the day for me it’s a personal thing, but I can never tell what’s in someone’s heart. I try to not dwell on it, and I feel like it should be open, and they’re interested.

So that brings me into my next question. I noticed an article today on Iggy Azalea being one of the front runner’s of Hip Hop, noted by Forbes, and I wanted to know how you felt about great music being pushed to the side, in favor of watered down stereotypical music?

Me, it just motivates me to do what I’m doing. You have to just really try hard. You don’t know what that person did to get to where they are. Even as an artist, people are going to say my stuff isn’t real. I try not to get discouraged by that, and focus on my shit.

How’d you grow up?

I grew up in the country with lots of time sit and think and write. It was quiet, and sit and reflect and watch. I always wanted to write, but then when I found Hip Hop, I wanted to sound like Slick Rick and I wanted to sound like Jay Z. I was nine years old, and I heard “Children’s Story.” I said, “Aw man, I like this dude.” I wanted to rap.

I know that Reggae culture influenced Hip Hop a lot. Do you feel like Hip Hop is just as affluent over there?

Mainstream Hip Hop culture is fed there, but there’s no research. There’s no digging. But for me, I always wanted to talk to some fans in New York. I had friends who would tell me about Mobb Deep, and Lost Boyz, and A Tribe Called Quest. People who you wouldn’t get as much in Jamaica. But I feel that my hip hop experience was an authentic experience. I remember my friend came home and it was the summer of ‘93 and he said, “ There’s this dude name Biggie and he’s crazy!” Because I was on West Coast, I was onto Snoop Dogg. He brought the tape, and it was the single “One More Chance” and I kept playing it over and over [Laughs].

My senior thesis in college was about Hip Hop and how it takes you to where the artist is and I guess that’s how I feel about this blanket music we have lately where people just say things to be apart of something.

I know what ya mean. I want [the artists] to give me some insight. What frustrates me is that you have buzz words that people say and I never wanted to be that. I find it nice to speak about me, and my experiences, and my every day life, and hopefully I can help someone else through there experience. I think it can reach people that way. When did you move to Kingston?

I would say 2008. It was different times, because I’ve moved back, but I would say seriously in 2008, and I wasn’t moving back until the music was out there.

How’d your mom, Lorna Bennett, feel about that at the time?

When I dropped out of school to do music, she wasn’t pleased but she was giving me one year to make it happen. And right about the end of the year my song started to appear on the radio.

Which Song?

My first song, “Arguments.” And I said not only going to quit school but you’re going to be my manager. She was like, “ Are you crazy? I don’t know the first thing”, and I was like all you need to know is have my back, and I’ll have your back, and we’re going to make mistakes but we’re going to learn it.”

Wow, so how has you guys relationship grown since your music has become popular?

We’re very, very tight. She’s my best friend. I brought her with me to Euroupe, and let her travel around the world with me. All the boys are like you’re carrying your mom around the world when this is supposed to be your time to wild out. But when nobody gave a shit, she was holding it down. I smoke and mom didn’t like it at first. I asked her like, “ Mum have you seen something negative in me since I started? Tell me if you feel if i’m going on?” She was like, “ It’s working, because you’re not as flashy as before. You’re more calm.”

How do you feel like your parents guidance shaped your music?

Their guidance is that popularity comes and goes. My dad was a coach for track and field. There was a champ and people would fly over the world and anyone who came up through that system. There was a guy who lost his last race, and I remember him crying at the back of the stadium and seeing him by himself. So you lose one time and he was done? My father told me, “you see this is what happens, you’re up and then you’re down.” So that’s the main thing is trying to keep my head grounded. There’s going to be a time where nobody cares what I am saying and to accept that is just a small part of my life.

You spoke on that on your last album about how the awards didn’t matter. It reminded me of how Phife said, “ I’ll never let a statue tell me how nice I am.”

Yeah, you work hard and if the accolades come, they come. The Imperial Majesty says that success lies is knowing that the job was done to the best of it’s ability. Then anything that happens after that doesn’t really matter. The best thing I felt is that when I finish the song it feels good in the studio. After that it doesn’t matter. You can’t take that feeling from me when I look at it that night and I love it more than anything. He can’t even put it up in an exhibition and nobody loves it. It won’t work.

How do you feel like you got to that position of thinking. Did you ever feel like people doubted you?

I never got my break until I got over that. Get yourself out there and stop complaining. It’s an honor when someone takes their time out to listen to this person’s work. The moment I stop feeling entitled. Do you know how many emcee’s that have been tight that never get the credit. One of my favorite emcee’s ever is Phonte from Little Brother, and he’s a legend his music. I’m just trying to say that he should be an emcee that every body knows, but at the end of the day that doesn’t really matter. If you have the passion and the love in it, you’re going to live a good life.

How do you feel about the terminology that someone fell off? That’s something I’ve been trying to break down as a negative word lately.

What do you expect from art? When I hear people talk about Jay Z, and I’m like if he made Reasonable Doubt alone, Blueprint, and even on the Black Album he said, “What more can he say.” People expect you to be doing the same thing forever. How could Nas fall off? That’s one thing, we always want more, and it’s what have you done for me last week. Sometimes I feel like the best thing is to drop three albums and just bounce, and make no more music because that’s the way to make you feel. I would never be like Jay Z fell off because I’m not going to forget what you gave me, I grew up to your music. That’s one thing that pisses me off.

I watched something that said, it’s only going to change once a big artist drops something independently. And I feel the same that it’s only going to change once artist stop throwing so much work out there.

Here’s why I don’t feel a way about someone being overrated. I say it myself, but this is why I check myself. You really have to think highly of your opinion to feel like someone else shouldn’t feel it. I say it for sure sometimes, but I check myself. It’s not for me, but maybe it’s for them.

How do you feel about Peter Tosh, and how he said he wasn’t meant to be a background vocal within the Wailers.

He had things to say, and being in the band didn’t allow him that. Just because we all live here in the world and when I think about suppose I’m at a place where I see my last days coming up, will I think about my soled out shows? No, I’m going to think about how I’m living. I just read something from the bible that says, “Tell me which one of you can add a single second to your life by worrying about something. And if worrying can’t help you add time to your life, what is it going to help you do?

What do you feel like the youth in Kingston and Jamaica period is hurting them right now?

Education, insight, and the understanding of life. The way that people are taught to eat and treat women. What is knowledge without wisdom? My main thing in music is not to say this is the way. I’m just throwing some thoughts out there and I want to see what you can give back. I’m looking for the conversation. They’re artist that listen to my music, and I’ve influence what they’ve written about and now we can go further.

Sometimes here it’s less about that. It’s more about someone stealing your style. How do you feel about creating in a collective? I remember Nas said nothing is new under the sun, and I remember thinking everybody’s biting something. You’ve spoken about gentrification in Kingston? What’s it like?

That’s in process, and it’s going to happen. That’s the stage of imperialism that Jamaica is in right now. Since I’ve been in New York I’ve been hearing them say their going to push the land back so far, people are going to be living on the water. Right now, we’re seeing high rises, and how many times have we seen it. If you know your history, we know what’s going to happen.

Do you feel like anything positive can come out of it?

I’ve always thought that something positive can come out of anything? I feel like we need new politicians that are thinking the same way of this generation. We need youth in everything. It’s not about how young they are. It’s about the headspace. We can’t have all of us in art and music, and not in politics and the old people are still running everything.

Who’s unsung in Reggae? In general?

I don’t want to say unsung because I feel like these people are respected but Black Uhuru is one of my favorites I wanted to sound like them on stage. Their band was Sly and Robby and so it was tight on stage. Oh, Hugh Mandell. We share the same birthday, June 14. He got murdered in 1983. Imagine Bob Marley died in 1981, and I didn’t even know him and I’m from Jamaica. He had a song called “Africa must be free by 1983.” One of my dreams was to buy his catalog and spread it. His first album out, he was 15 years old. Ironically he dies in 1983.

Can you speak about the new movement in Jamaica. What do you feel it is?

It’s a positive, educated, very wise youth that’s influenced by a lot of music all over and have a lot of things to say. That’s what’s really happening right now man. Not trying to stay stuck in one thing. We’re interested in experimenting with different types of music and different types of topic. There’s my brethern Kabaka Pyramid. He’s coming up right now and we want to speak about real thing. People don’t talk about those things in music. Even Rastafari, there’s a bunch of things that people feel like you should speak about. Sometimes what I speak about doesn’t come from those teachings. I want to write about how I feel. Sometimes I have feelings that I’m not proud of but I have them, and I address them. Sometimes you have to put your feelings on the table. There could be a time when you talk to me and I might not smoke weed anymore. I’m not a spokesperson for anyone thing, I’m just expressing myself.