Irie FM and the Doppler Effect
Surely this is one of the well, most ‘Caribbean' moments you could ever imagine… unexpected, a touch weird and utterly, unutterably beguiling – and with its combination of loud music, eccentricity and an outdoor life - so ‘essentially’ West Indian that it probably just wouldn’t occur anywhere else. Like the Green Flash at sunset, it has happened to me twice in 35 years of travelling to the islands, first in Puerto Rico and then in Jamaica. Jamaica was my favourite, so I will describe it as it happened there.
I was driving along the old north coast road, somewhere short of Falmouth I think, windows open, salt sea air rolling in and shredding the sweltering summer heat… with Irie FM (back to back culture reggae) on the car stereo. I have no idea what the song was (for the purposes of this, choose one you like), but let’s say it was Luciano’s - Lord, Give me Strength - upbeat, melodic and, hey, righteous. Ahead, in the middle of nowhere particular, a single rum shop stood at roadside left, facing across the road to the sea and some mangroves on the right. And there the magic began. As I approached, the tinny music in the car stereo started to swell inexplicably, expanding in the car. Momentarily this was uncomfortable - what was going on…? Was something about to explode…? But the song continued to gather around me, louder and louder, until it filled the car to bursting – and 50 yards from the rum shop, it did. It literally exploded, soundwaves all over the road. It was like driving into a vortex of music. In the next split-second I saw that the rum shop was flanked either side by a stack of massive black speakers, twelve foot high, taller than the rum shop itself. And understood. For five seconds the noise was physical, so loud it battered the car: the shift and crack of the high hat and snare blasting into every corner of the car, Luciano’s voice rolling around the interior, and the bass reverberating through the chassis. As I drove on, the intensity waned – and just as the Doppler effect on approach had made the tempo slightly more upbeat, compulsive somehow, so the loosening gave Luciano’s voice even more soul. And as I drove away, so the song gradually slid back into the car, where it swirled around me for a couple of seconds. And then it simply re-boxed itself into the car radio…
Only in Jamaica (and Puerto Rico)