GRENOBLE: Jamaican Reggae Conquers France’s ‘Capital of the Alps’

GRENOBLE, France - Hundreds of Jamaicans flocked here to witness their nation’s historic debut at the FIFA Women’s World Cup. But right next to Stade des Alpes another treat awaited.

Abdul rules the mic as Edward, left, and Don Pepito admire the show with Iternal’s sound system and wheels in the background.For those curious enough about the heavy, intoxicating and unmistakable beat of reggae pounding across the adjacent park on June 9, the day Jamaica played Brazil, it was a pleasant surprise.

Even more shocking was the source of the music. Perched atop oversized tricycles were huge speaker boxes, colored red, green and gold and equipped with computer/turntables. Iternal Sound System was in the house, parked under a huge tree which offered umbrella-like protection on a drizzle-drenched day, drawing for tunes normally heard in dancehalls from Kingston to London.

Grenoble is nestled at the feet of the majestic French Alps mountains. The city of 160,000-plus is known as a scientific center and prime resort area. Over the past decade, it has embraced Jamaican reggae/dancehall as well.

“Grenoble is one of the first cities who get a sound system in France and also one of the biggest reggae bands, called Sensimilla,” Don Pepito, Iternal’s owner and a native of the city, told Caribbean Today.

BLAST

Tunes from Yellow Man and TippaIrie, Buju, Chronixx and Sizzla, with on-the-spot guest artistes spliced in between, blasted awaythrough the sound system. In charge of this Caribbean injection is Pepito, a balding, bespectacled man who looks more like an accounting exec than a music selector. He’s one of the most influential reggae/dancehall proponents in this city. It’s no small operation.

“I’ve got one of the biggest crews in my town,” Pepito said. “… We are, with my crew, we are three in the crew … Have two bike ghetto blasters and five in the sound systems.”

Pepito learned about reggae growing up in Grenoble. He fell in love immediately, drawn to the beat and the idea that music can be more than just entertainment. Bands like Bob Marley and the Wailers, Steel Pulse and Aswad were among his biggest influences. To Pepito, reggae’s sweet sound also represents a sharp tool against oppression.

“The most I like is the positive thinking and that subversive (element),” he explained. “It’s fighting for people.”

Iternal’s crew includes Edward, who at first glance looks like he just walked out of a party at 4 a.m. and is heading for the next one. Complete with spliff in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other, he too expressed love for reggae’s protest style. Yet he sidestepped any deep attachment to the music’s religious foundation. No back to Africa movement for him, Edward explained. Reggae soothes his soul. It helps him escape.

“I’m about reggae, smoking the weed and a good party,” Edward said, before bursting into laughter.

INFLUENCE

He was originally hooked on hip-hop, the not-too-distant urban American cousin of Jamaica’s dancehall. But hip-hop lost some of its edge, said Edward and reggae/dancehall filled the gap. Still, he’s picky about the Jamaican genre as well, and prefers stuff from back in the day.

“Ranking Toyan for me is one of the best,” said Edward. “Yellowman. Yellowman is very nice.

“Yeah, old school, because old school is not like too much Jah Jah, too much gangsta. It’s just good, you know. In fact, it’s history.”

According to Pepito and Edward, reggae took root in Grenoble well over a decade ago. Now they claim the city has fully embraced it.

“This town has a really great culture about sound system,” said Pepito, “and then we go to party, to the dancehall and we play dub plates and people understand what’s going on … In this town people know the rules, the sound system of the reggae and everything about (it).”

But reggae/dancehall has spread well beyond places like Grenoble. It’s influence showed up in the park too. Abdul, who said he is from the African nation of Guinea, made a debut appearance for Iternal - right there under the tree. Abdul took the mike, asked Pepito to select a rhythm, and launched into an impromptu set. He rode the upbeat rhythm with well-honed skill, lyrics bubbling along without hitch, prancing around. His delivery was almost all in French, with occasional patois and Jamaican cuss words spliced in.

‘SMALL JAMAICA’

Abdul called Guinea “a small Jamaica” and described his home as a haven for dancehall/reggae

“Sound system … lots in Guinea,” Abdul explained in limited English. “… All over the country.”

He listed Jamaican artistes Capleton, Sizzla, Buju Banton and Chronixx among his favorites, but claimed he loves everything reggae and the Caribbean nation.

“Yeah, much too much!,” said Abdul laughing. “Too much Jamaican music. I like Jamaican music, yeah man! Reggae music is good music.”

Pepito, Edward and Abdul all admitted that although they would like to, they had never been to Jamaica. Edward cited the huge cost to travel from Europe to the Caribbean.

“The price for the flight is expensive,” he lamented.

So they’ll settle for Jamaica’s music - its beat, its message - and spreading it in their hometown, a supremelyserene spot for music forged on disruption.

“In Grenoble we love reggae,” explained Edward. “We’re surrounded by mountains, but we are reggae people for real.

“… Like when I didn’t know English I thought reggae was like hippie music … and then I understand the English and I understand the reggae, for real, because it’s really powerful music for love … for the revolution against the system.”