Reggaematic: First of all, congratulations on the release of Smile. Are you happy with the response you’ve gotten for the album so far?

Junior Kelly: It all depends on which level you talking. Are you talking response where media is concerned, or the audience?

RM: Well, the audience. The response of the public.

JK: Well, yeah, I am. I am happy with the response. And the type of music that people like I do, you know, it grows on people. So I have no problem. I support the longevity of this type of music, so I have no problem with the pace that it is taking, I’m used to it, and I’m satisfied. You know? I’m satisfied.

RM: You talk about “this type of music.” If somebody had never heard of Junior Kelly, how would you describe the Junior Kelly sound?

JK: Alright... speaking of myself as a third person [laughs]. I would have to [ask] “Do you know Luciano? Do you know Sizzla? Do you ever hear of Capleton? Do you ever hear Jah Mason? Do you ever hear Morgan Heritage? It’s them type of music deh him do. That’s the way I would have to describe him. I have to have a reference.

RM: The way you sound today – your style of performance and your vocal style – is that the result of something that has evolved over time, or when you started in the business did you have that same basic style?

JK: With everything there is a certain amount of growth that takes place, you know? And the funniest thing, when you inna training, the beauty of the music and my ability or the way I put it across is not you forcing yourself in one way or the other, [but] the fascination is not knowing the end result! And so, if you think that I have evolved, well I consider that as flattering, you know? But I don’t really keep tabs on myself like that, you know? I just follow my heart and pour it out in whichever form it comes out in, you know? Because, I guess, in that way you don’t have no boundaries where the voice, pitch, tone or writing skill is concerned. It’s something that ever grows. And it should be like that, you know?

RM: How old were you when you recorded your first tune?

JK: ‘Round 16 or 17.

RM: When you’re 16, 17, you’ve obviously done a lot less living than you’ve done now. What sort of topics and issues were you singing about when you were performing at that age?

JK: Well, I was still searching, you know? To find – not my calling, music is my calling – searching to find my niche in the whole industry. And, it was mainly love songs. It was like this – the same thing that I’m doing – but me being a baldhead then, mi never have much boundaries. Mi did still have morals, and lines I wouldn’t cross, you know? But I put it together in the way that people woulda find it appealing. Even more so now, because there is more pressure now than back then. You know, mi just go with the flow, and follow mi heart, as always, but it was the same Junior Kelly, it just more intensified now, you know?

RM: When did you become a Rasta? You said you were a baldhead when you started.

JK: When I said “baldhead” still, you haffi understand fully, because I don’t consider me “becoming” a Rasta, you know? It was always there. Because if it wasn’t always there, I wouldn’t have any boundaries when it come to talking things from mi mouth! So I did have a sense of certain morals, and I guess that incorporates into you being a Rasta, and incorporates into, you know, somebody that isn’t only growing they hair and saying “OK, this is an image thing.” So before the hair, and when I mean hair, that’s why I mention “baldhead” stage. You know, the eating habits and, certain things you woulda say, yes, but there are certain things still you wouldn’t say, although you don’t have the hair pon your head. .

RM: I read in other interviews that you said that your mother is a devout Christian. How did she accept your evolution into Rastafarianism?

JK: Well, she do what any good mother would have done in a situation like mine. Unconditional love same way, no change nuttin. It’s her son same way. And I wouldn’t expect anything else from her, and that’s exactly how she accepted and received me being who I am. I’m following my heart and my dream. A child is not owned by a mother nor a father. You only keep and care the child and steer them inna the right and proper way until they’re old enough to follow dem own path, you know? You just keep dem safe and teach dem proper. So, in this case, is the same thing. She [gave me] unconditional love, accept me for who I am and who I turn out to be.

RM: On songs like “I Nah Bow,” or on the Love So Nice album, a tune like “Jah Nuh Dead,” the influence of your faith is obvious. But how does your Rastafarianism generally influence the music that you put out – when you’re not specifically talking about Rasta?

JK: Well, you know, if you notice the other songs on the album, you know me is also a lover of love songs! So, we incorporate things that worry or pester people, and it doesn’t just go for Rasta. So, I guess the only way Rasta influence my music is it gives me a sense of awareness, and I associate myself with people that, you know, have common understanding and goals, and we see eye to eye on a lot of topics. Whether world issues or local issues or, you know? Just typical everyday things that not only bother us, but pleases us. And that’s the only way it influences my music. But otherwise from that, I put together songs that are appealing to - you name it!

RM: Earlier, when I was talking about describing your sound, you compared yourself to other artists such as Sizzla, Luciano and so on. There are a lot of dreads right now in the music business in Jamaica. A lot of them seem to be pushing different views and different messages. Does it bother you when the Rasta’s in reggae and dancehall music are not speaking with one voice? Or do you think that is not necessary?

JK: Yeah. The to and fro ting kinda contrary down the ting, and waters down the belief that people have, and the respect and love that people have for Rastafarians worldwide, you know? And you really haffi understand say, we being artists, and we being Rasta first and foremost, we have an obligation - not only to ourselves - but to our fans, you know? And if we put out contrary works, we will be seen as people that are contrary, and so forth. Or unpredictable in views. So naturally, practically, it hurts me. It hurts me to see how we actually deal with that, you know? And how we shoulda deal wid it. So, yeah, it’s a burning issue.

Sometimes I wonder when we should be working in concert on a lot of things we’re crisscrossing on issues and values. What is another man meat is another man poison, you know? So, it’s a burning issue. I wouldn’t say it hurt me, seen? It’s beyond hurt. And I doubt if there is such a thing [chuckles]. But I’m telling you, that’s where it reach. It reach to a point where we haffi address the issue. So whenever people like you mention it, it’s an issue whey sensitive. Most Rastas probably would like to pass it up, you know, Milo, but I glad you mentioned it.

And there is another thing too. I’ve seen where the DJs dem, di Dancehall acts, will more cling together – you always have a group or a crew or whatever – and we that saying we are Rastafarians and we are talking about love in our music, and yet still you hardly find a group of Rastas that cling together. Luciano over ya so, Sizzla over deh so, Capleton over the other side, and them all have them own likkle hang-ups and so forth, and them sway from the bigger issue. It’s a situation whe we need fi address. Then if we are saying unity and love, and peace is the ultimate goal and way of life, then why these guys over ya so whe a say, um, “gal wine, shake your tail feather, and lift up your clothes mek me see under you” and all of that, but yet still dem have what we lack – but what we keep on a preach in our music – unity!

Mi go down a Capleton, mi nuh get greeted right. I’ve never been down there, you know, this is just figure of speech. . . I wouldn’t feel good fi know that. . . mi have been amongst the amount of baldhead artists, you name them: Bounty Killa give me mi props, Elephant, everybody! Seen? And yet still, mi know a lot of other artists as Rastas feel the same way. Yu ‘fraid fo go down a Mista Man, dey fi check him because you ‘fraid him fire bun you, and the two a we a say we a Rasta! It’s stupidity. It reach to that level deh. And stupidity mixed in with fame, money, and ego. It’s dreadful combinations dem dey, you know. Dreadful combination. But I am sticking to the game plan and trying to be the best Rasta - and the best human being - I can be. And I have no hard feelings. Dem have dem own demons fi fight, but I think we should unite more, you know? Because we talk about it so much. [Continue]