When Buju Banton emerged on Jamaica’s dancehall scene in the early 1990s, his ferocious vocals were seemingly incongruous to his youth and slim build, which set him apart from his colleagues. So too did his flurry of early hits: "Bogle," "Batty Rider," "Big It Up," and "Champion." But the precocious teenage sensation also offered serious commentary on such hits as "How Massa God World A Run" and "Deportee."
Thirty years later, Banton continues to defy expectations. His latest album, Born For Greatness, melds reggae and dancehall with elements of R&B, jazz flourishes, crunching rock guitars, even a spirited gospel-tinged closer. "I don’t want anyone to put I in a bubble and say I should only make music like this or like that," Banton tells GRAMMY.com. "Let me be free to create and express the way I feel because I am sure there is someone out there who feels the same way."
Banton has been expressing himself since he was young. Born Mark Myrie, the youngest of 15 children born to a street vendor mother in a poor area of West Kingston, Banton is a descendant of the Maroons, Africans who defeated Jamaica’s British colonizers then retreated to the island’s mountainous interior, where they established communities of free Black people. Buju is a Maroon word for breadfruit and banton refers to a revered storyteller, a name Mark adopted in tribute to the deejay Burro Banton, whom he admired as a child.
Banton began toasting at just 12 years old and, by the early ‘90s, was so popular that the Prime Minister PJ Patterson was among his fans. Patterson missed Banton’s performance at Jamaica’s Reggae Sunsplash 1993 but still desired to see him live. Buju’s close friend/mentor and lovers rock king Beres Hammond granted the Prime Minister’s wish, giving a portion of his set to Buju, then joining him to deliver their hit duet "Who Say." When asked about the Jamaican leader’s request at the time, Buju paused and simply said, "the next prime minister shall know me, too."
Buju released his first album for a major US label, Voice of Jamaica, in August 1993. He followed with 1995’s ‘Til Shiloh, one of reggae/dancehall’s most celebrated and influential releases. Throughout his career, Buju has vacillated between the frenetic dancehall of his youth and the roots reggae associated with the Rastafari way of life that he later adopted.
Buju’s career abruptly stopped on Dec. 10, 2009 when he was arrested at his South Florida home for conspiracy to possess cocaine with intent to distribute. He was briefly released on bail that January and allowed to headline his fundraising concert for his mounting legal costs, which also featured Shaggy, Sean Paul, and Stephen and Damian Marley. A few weeks later, Buju’s Before The Dawn won the GRAMMY Award for Best Reggae Album — though the artist couldn’t attend the ceremony because his trial reconvened the following day. He was found guilty and sentenced to 10 years in a Florida prison.
In December 2018 Buju emerged a free man and returned to Jamaica. Four months later, he headlined his Long Walk to Freedom concert at Kingston’s National Stadium where he drew over 32,000 fans. His first release post-confinement, Upside Down 2020, was also nominated for a GRAMMY Award.
Banton produced the majority of Born For Greatness alongside Jermaine Reid, Stephen Marley and DJ Khaled. On the album’s cover Buju is clad in black leather and adorned with gold jewelry including chunky rings and a thick-linked gold chain wrapped around his head, a provocative image intended to evoke a discussion around mental enslavement.
"The rings are the faces of Frederick Douglas, Harriet Tubman, and the freedom fighters who fought to free us from the chains around our mind because they were adamant in their resolve of freeing the people," Buju explains.
With Born For Greatness the latest entry in Buju’s 30 plus year career, he recently spoke with GRAMMY.com reflecting on 10 songs that span his ongoing musical odyssey.
"Love Mi Browning,"Mr Mention (1991)
Over a bubbling organ riff, Buju declares his love for a Black woman with a light complexion (referred to as a browning in Jamaican parlance). Some listeners perceived the song as Buju expressing a preference for lighter skinned women; the ensuing controversy propelled "Love Mi Browning" to No. 1 in Jamaica and increased the popularity of the captivating, coarse-voiced deejay who recorded it.
"I went to (Kingston’s) Penthouse Records where I met up with (brothers) producers Tony and Dave Kelly, Stumpy the engineer and (singer) Wayne Wonder. We started making music and Dave Kelly wrote "Love Mi Browning" about his then-girlfriend. We started working the song and it just became natural," Banton says.
"We received a lot of backlash, saying we were favoring women of lighter complexion, so I went back in the studio of my own volition and recorded ‘Love Black Woman,’ ("Wi nuh stop cry fi all Black woman/big up all de girls dem wid dark complexion"), which brought balance and silenced the negative energy that was on the surface."
"Deportees (Things Change)," Voice of Jamaica (1993)
Between 1990 and 2005, Jamaica received (proportionately) the largest number of Caribbean nationals deported from the U.S. Canada and the UK. Buju’s huge dancehall hit "Deportees," addresses individuals who had established good lives overseas — perhaps fueled by drug money or other illegal means — with little regard for the well-being of the family members they’d left back home.
His lyrics detail the dramatic changes that occur when these individuals are arrested and convicted: their luxurious lifestyles implode, and they are deported to the land of their birth. "Things change, now unu (you) see say life hard, you never used to send no money come ah yard/You wretch you, you spend the whole ah it abroad, squander your money now you're living like dog."
"I wrote the lyrics and (producer) Dave Kelly made the beat," Buju recalls. "Nowadays, everyone is just frolicking, singing about abstracts; back then, we had to sing about real issues. That was one of the songs that empowered many people, not just in the Caribbean region but throughout the world, to remember where they are coming from, strengthen the Diaspora and make sure they have something at home to fall back on because if you can’t grow where you are transplanted, you have to grow where you are planted."
"Murderer," 'Til Shiloh (1995)
At the height of Buju’s frenetic dancehall success, he dropped a forceful commentary, recorded on the classic 1980s Far East reggae riddim, which had great resonance in the dancehall but also appealed to fans that preferred the more cultural side of Jamaican music. "Murderer", initially released as a single in 1993, decried the island’s escalating violence that claimed the life of one of Buju’s close friends (Anthony "Panhead" Johnson).
"The song was written at a time when the murder rate exploded in Jamaica, everyone had an enemy, and one of our beloved entertainers got caught up in that drama," Buju proffers. "I was on tour in Japan when I got the news that Panhead was killed; I sat in the passageway of the hotel with Frankie Sly and Wayne Wonder and started writing ‘Murderer, blood is on your shoulder/kill I today you cannot kill I tomorrow.’ Jamaica gravitated towards the song’s realness; the sentiment that was expressed was one that we shared because ‘you can hide from man but not your conscience.’"
Thirty years after he wrote and recorded "Murderer" bloodshed in Jamaica, and throughout the world, remains out of control. "If you understand the political system that is in place, all these things are designed," Buju adds. "I try to guide the world with positivity, despite all the negativity in which my name has been typecast."
"Untold Stories," ‘Til Shiloh (1995)
Throughout ‘Til Shiloh — which means until kingdom come — Buju masterfully blends his boisterous dancehall foundation with Rastafarian roots reggae, Nyabinghi drumming and African choral chants, among other influences.
The album’s most surprising track, "Untold Stories," is a stunning, semi-acoustic ballad, with Buju’s visceral, supple sung vocals recounting the struggles of the poor in Jamaica, and all over the world: "I’m living while I’m living to the Father I will pray/only He knows how we get through everyday/will all the hike in the price arm and leg we have to pay while our leaders play." He goes on to instruct the youth to learn from his experiences, "when mama spend her last and send you to class, never you ever play, it’s a competitive world for low budget people, spending a dime while earning a nickel."
Buju was just 22 when he wrote and recorded "Untold Stories," the song’s heartfelt insights and his emotive delivery undoubtedly born of the hardships he and his family endured. "That song was the beginning of a transition in my life where I was exploring my creativity and where the Father wanted me to go in terms of the messages I must carry to the masses," Buju explains. "It was just perfect, a heaven-sent song, I have to say."
"Give I Strength" feat. Ras Shiloh, Inna Heights (1997)
As the title suggests, the superb "Give I Strength" is an invocation for the resilience to get through life’s obstacles, to "live out the greater part of my days." Ras Shiloh’s quivering, soulful tone is an ideal complement to Buju’s granular timbre as they trade verses over an exquisitely crafted reggae rhythm.
"Ras Shiloh was a young emerging talent, American born from Jamaican parents, and I fell in love with his dynamic voice the first time I heard it," Buju shares. "He’s a youth that love Rastafari. [Producer] Donovan Germain invited him to his Penthouse studios one day and he just came up with the perfect renditions to complement what I was saying.
"'Give I Strength' is so relevant in this time, before time and after time, because we all need the strength to be better individuals, so it was natural, pure," Banton says.
"Small Axe" feat. King Stitt, Inna Heights (1997)
One of the earliest practitioners of the Jamaican art of deejaying (also known as toasting), the late Winston Sparkes, a.k.a. King Stitt, was pivotal in elevating the role of a sound system deejay into an attraction in his own right. One of the first deejays to have a hit record (1969’s "Fire Corner,") Stitt rarely recorded after the 1970s, but his inimitable toasting graces the rollicking ska track "Small Axe," featured on Buju’s 1998 GRAMMY-nominated album Inna Heights.
Buju’s first European tour in 1991 circuitously led him to record with Stitt. "I spent six weeks in Europe, I went to Germany, Austria and I knew nothing of making reggae music, I was making dancehall music," Buju reveals. "I came home with the intent to make reggae music. I booked time at Tuff Gong Studios with a group of musicians and said we are going to make live music and they said, ‘are you serious?’ I said ‘yeah, I want to make ska, rocksteady and reggae music.’"
That session netted "Hills and Valleys," "What A Mighty Dread" and"Small Axe." Banton continues, "Making ska was more important than just the instrumental; it provided an opportunity to tap into the richness of our musical culture and to work with a great man like King Stitt. Maybe it was the divine instruction I had to follow as a servant and I did."
"Pull It Up" feat. Beres Hammond, Unchained Spirit (2000)
Despite the very different lanes they occupy in Jamaican music, there’s an undeniable vocal chemistry between Buju Banton and Beres Hammond that has yielded many great singles, including their timeless celebration of the dancehall "Pull It Up." Over an irresistibly danceable reggae rhythm, Beres’s smoky sung descriptions of the dance, "Everywhere I look is pure skankin’, I see no statue around," are punctuated by Buju’s irrepressible, raspy ponderings, "Without di dancehall, a wha we woulda do? When reggae music call, you must answer, too."
Buju detailed their initial encounter: "I first met Beres at a studio in 1992. I was the guy they sent out to buy Guinness, lunch, I was just coming up and I had to pay my dues. One day, I asked Beres, 'Why do you drink so much Guinness?' He said, 'After it passes the heart, that’s when I really start to sing,'" Buju laughingly recalled. "He had a reservoir of knowledge that he was hungry to pass on to a young man like me who was hungry for knowledge where the music is concerned.
"I didn’t get an opportunity to work with him until I proved that I understood the rudiments of music. Then he welcomed me and ever since, we have communicated musically. It’s always a mystical communication with him: he sings, and I am able to feel what he’s singing about and communicate it to the next generation in layman’s terms."
"Driver A," Too Bad (2006)
Set to the sinewy, bass heavy pulse of Sly and Robbie’s Taxi riddim, Buju instructs his driver to "Drop this Arizona [ganja] round Albermarle [a road in Flatbush, Brooklyn]" cautioning him to "remember the damn speed limit because if you run into the feds, that is it."
The clever, detailed lyrics weave an engaging, sometimes humorous narrative and Buju’s gritty delivery is so authentic that "Driver A" was immediately referenced when news broke of his arrest, three years later. Buju says the song was inspired by the hustling he saw going on in America.
"When I come to America and see how the people live, in their day-to-day life, they have to hustle, they have to go hard, everybody has something going on," he says. "Some people can relate, and some can’t relate but it’s a song in ode to those who hustle. It doesn’t get better than that."
"Buried Alive," Upside Down (2020)
Since his release from prison, Buju has said little (directly) in his interviews or through his music about his time in confinement. "Buried Alive" is a powerful depiction of the fortitude required to survive such an ordeal. It’s essentially a rock song with a sputtering tempo, featuring an overlay of searing guitars that accompany Buju’s anguished vocals: "Buried alive but I’m still breathing, I don’t know what tomorrow may bring but I got a feeling/I am alive, there must be a reason, I was given one more chance, my heart is still beating," sings Buju.
"They planted a seed, and I was allowed to grow. And grow I did," Buju said regarding the song’s subject matter. "My captors expected me to be bitter, but I said, 'Father forgive them because they know not what they did.' My mission still continues, I have not done anything different than what I was doing before, which was making music and loving people."
When asked if he wrote songs during his imprisonment, Buju says. "I did what I had to do to stay alive, it was that simple. Whether it was writing songs, teaching, being a source of light in a place of darkness, I was doing what I had to because the Lord ordained that I had to be there."
"Let My People Go," Born For Greatness (2023)
Buju concludes his latest album with a rousing gospel-influenced cry for personal liberation and the freedom of his people. The title is taken from a refrain that echoes throughout "Go Down Moses," a centuries-old African American spiritual, originally written about the exodus of the ancient Jewish people from slavery in Egypt. "Let My People Go" is shouted in a call and response fashion throughout Buju’s song, written about present day atrocities: "The whole world is in bondage (let my people go), tell these tyrants to let go (let my people go) what remains they may not be able to salvage (let my people go), they shall be riot, and rooting, and raving, and ravaged (let my people go)."
"The message is needed now more than ever," Buju states. "Freedom is being eradicated every day and people are being herded. The whole world is in bondage and the only hope is the truth, so we remove the veil from our eyes so we can see everything and everyone for who they are. The truth shall make you free. We are tired of this perpetual struggle, we are tired of this physical existence, just let my people go."