debtA few days after the assassination attempt, Donald Trump’s voice boomed over the loudspeakers in Montego Bay, Jamaica: “If you needed an assassin, call your bodyguard who’s going to kill four people at Sumfest in Montego Bay.” A reggae riddim played, and the crowd, expecting laughter, erupted in surprised laughter.
The Bodyguard crew are fresh off taking the stage at Sumfest Global Sound Clash, a musical combat contest where sound systems pit themselves against each other with exclusive (and often incendiary) recordings featuring creative mixes, bombastic MCs, star guests and inside jokes. But this Trump-like AI vocalist jolts a decades-old musical tradition in which authenticity and originality are paramount, and sound systems pay artists big fees for vocals for their clashes.
“AI will disrupt the industry,” says Fabian Andersson, a dub agent who works between artists and sound systems to secure exclusive tracks. Though he refuses to dabble in the technology, he knows studios that are, and even goes so far as to send clients videos of artists’ recording sessions to verify their legitimacy.
Jamaican music clashed in the 1950s, when music curators imported records from the United States and played them to crowds on customized mobile sound systems. “Jamaica became the loudest island on earth, and showcases drew bigger crowds than ever before,” Island Records founder Chris Blackwell wrote in his 2022 memoir. As more sound systems appeared on the scene, a battle ensued for the attention of the crowd: “Who could play the best tunes? Who could make the biggest, toughest sound?”
In preparation for a clash, the sound system would collaborate with the artist to record an exclusive dubplate, which is often an aggressive dub-style cover with rewritten lyrics to suit a battle scenario. A famous example is the Fugees’ remake of Roberta Flack’s “Killing Me Softly,” which was originally written by the group. As a battle dub plate The lyric goes, “Kill the sound boy with that sound.” Anderson says it can cost anywhere from $150 to $800 to get an artist to appear on one of these tracks, with the most exclusive dubplates running into the thousands. Supercat and Shabba Ranks are among the most popular artists.
As the Sumfest crowd blared their vuvuzelas, German sound system Warrior Sound released an exclusive dub recorded by Jamaican up-and-comer Niggy Boy. The lyrics are: Viral hit Continent changed with a shout out to Warrior: “Sumfest / We’ll beat ’em / We’ll win the trophy.” Other artists heard on the clash include Bounty Killer, Damian Marley, Capleton, Beres Hammond and The Heptones.
Anderson says most selectors only use a few seconds of a dub “to get the point across.” Songs can’t be repeated, so dubplates need to be chock full to build momentum. It’s a costly process, and splicing has become common – people copy dubplates and remove the original soundsystem’s name to get a track on the cheap. With the advent of generative AI, the game is getting even dirtier. “The AI is even worse.” [than splicing]” says Anderson.
Veteran British reggae/dancehall vocalist Paul Scott Levy (aka General Levy) records dubs “almost every week,” and he believes that established sound systems enforce the rules of clashing. “It’s not just about using your voice. It’s about how you got that voice, the relationship, and how much you paid for it.”
Levy points to the recent rap battle between Kendrick Lamar and Drake as an example of a failed generative AI. When Drake released his Taylor Made freestyle, AI versions of Tupac and Snoop Dogg criticized Lamar, but “Drake got slammed for it. [AI] There is no value in being in a conflicting field.” Tupac’s estate threatened legal action against Drake, and the song was subsequently removed from all music platforms.
Soundsystems don’t give away their secrets. Notorious hired a “top secret” artist to record a dub cover of Bob Marley’s “Buffalo Soldier” (with the lyrics changed to “Japanese Soldier”), but they stress they’ll never use AI to resurrect Marley or deepfake living artists. “It’s out of respect for the artists. If they want to do it, go ahead and do it. I’ll find them and I’ll scare them,” laughs Notorious selector Bad Gal Marie.
Dynamq, the same contender who was named Sumfest champion in 2023, has a more ambivalent view: “Splicing, AI – I [the crowd] “I don’t care, I don’t care,” he said. “If it sounds good, people will go along with it. I don’t stand for it. I’d rather lose with integrity than win.”
At Sumfest, Jamaican-Japanese sound system Notorious International had the loudest vuvuzela, winning the first prize of 1 million Jamaican dollars (about $6,300). The Bodyguard ultimately came in second after a fierce “Tune Fy Tune” battle with Notorious. Courtney Shinn, founder of Bodyguard and a sound clash veteran since the early ’90s, says there are limits to using AI outside of parody skits like Trump’s voiceover. “It’s really dangerous. I don’t know how it’s controlled,” he says. “There’s an unspoken code of ethics, but… 1722865933 “There’s a generation that just thinks about winning at all costs.”
Singh notes that a new generation of sound systems may have to rely on AI to break into the scene, because many of the artists tend to sell to wealthy sound systems in Japan and Europe. “In Jamaica, we pay in US dollars for dubplates. Artists are charging 10, 20 times what I was charging when I started, it’s almost exorbitant,” Singh says. “Artists are very much involved in their own decline.”
Perhaps inevitably, Levy disagrees. “AI will be used to invade the once pure genres of dancehall and reggae and rob them of their true atmosphere,” he says, defending the real human voice. “Our voices are our bread and butter.”
Source: www.theguardian.com
