Linton Kwesi Johnson at Bumbershoot
Revolutionary dub poet Linton Kwesi Johnson (LKJ to his fans) made his first appearance in Seattle in 12 years at the Bumbershoot Arts Festival on Sunday, September 1st. It was a puzzling show. On one hand, LKJ and his band, led by Dennis Bovell, were in top form, delivering tight, impassioned versions of his classic anti-racist works like “It Nah Funny” and “Fight Dem Back.” But strangely, this very articulate radical seemed unwilling to confront the mostly-white audience on any contemporary or immediate issues, from the high number of black suspects killed or injured in the custody of the Seattle Police Department to the implications of America’s response to 9/11 on the Third World.
Instead, LKJ stuck exclusively to familiar material from the late 1970s. This is classic stuff, to be sure – pointed, accusatory lyrics delivered in an angry monotone over sizzling dub and reggae grooves. In his introductions, LKJ provided detailed historical contexts for each piece, fuming in outrage at incidents that took place in Thatcherite England, lamenting forgotten martyrs now a quarter-century in the grave, describing in keen detail the social and political environment of his youthful rebellion. Only once did he attempt to bring the material into the present day, by noting the rise of European (though not American) right-wing parties before launching into "Fight Dem Back." Perhaps he was just content to allow the audience to draw its own conclusions about the continued relevance of the work – though such reserve seems very out of character for such a confrontational and self-conscious artist.
Whatever the intention, the effect of emphasizing the particulars to the exclusion of the more universal themes was to absolve the listeners of any complicity or responsibility for the kinds of injustices that the songs described. Instead of political poetry, the works became simply songs, or, worse yet, performances. And the righteous rage that would have incited Brixton crowds to riots in the early 80s was, for all intents and purposes, just part of the show. The crowd swayed and nodded, the (numerous) hippies smoked up and danced their curious steps to the “killer riddims,” comfortable in their safe distance from long-ago crimes in a far-away country, and unmoved to any action except perhaps some vague sympathy for victims of historical injustice.
Those less familiar with LKJ saw a good show; those who know his work saw a scrupulously-recreated facsimile of the original angry young black man (now not so young), as if preserved in amber from a 1978 Rock Against Racism event at the Hammersmith Palais. How odd, and sad, that such a principled and intelligent man who clearly has much to say about relevant cultural issues was, when provided a platform and a receptive audience, content to give what amounted to a black-face minstrel performance of 20-year old “greatest hits.”
10:55:31 AM 
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