Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry Presents Confusion: The Jamaican Upsetter Singles 1971
One of the reasons I love music is the way that it captures an unrepeatable moment in time – thoughts, emotions, character, mistakes, genius, and madness saved forever, to be savoured long after everyone concerned has passed away. Little captures that feeling of peering into alien lives more than old reggae – sounds that are familiar yet sometimes impossible to ascribe to a particular instrument; a seemingly never-ending parade of exotically titled people; musical and lyrical curveballs that catch you out every time. And then you add Lee Perry into the mix.
Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry never just made music – he conducted experiments in sound, bending frequencies, stacking riddims, and turning the mundane into the mystical. Instruments glitch, basslines roll like distant thunder, and vocals warp into ghostly transmissions.
And yet, 1971 was a transitional year for Perry. Dub was taking shape, but it hadn’t fully sunk into the deep-space echo chambers that would later define his Black Ark productions. His techniques were evolving, his rhythms growing stranger, his studio trickery more pronounced – but he hadn’t yet vanished into the cosmic void. ‘Confusion: The Jamaican Upsetter Singles 1971‘ captures Perry at the very moment he shifted from gritty ska-inflected rhythms to full-blown sonic experimentation.
The title track, ‘Confusion’ by The Inspirations, feels like Perry tearing reggae apart at the seams just to stitch it back together with new sonic textures. There’s a looseness to the rhythm section, almost as if the track is caught mid-collapse, saved only by the sheer weight of the bassline. The Upsetters’ dub version strips it down even further, just the pulse of Perry’s bones clattering together, seeping into your innards.
And then there’s ‘Dracula‘, where eerie organ stabs and creeping basslines turn what could be 70s Hammer cheese into ghoulish skank. This isn’t chisled, clean-cut reggae for the pop charts, this is a warped-out freak show to gawp at with your ears and make secret notes in your diary.
Perry’s role here wasn’t just that of a producer, it was to conjure out of his assembled guests that which lay dormant inside the dark side of their brains. He understood space, emptiness, and movement within sound in a way few others did. On ‘Copasetic’, U Roy’s toasting floats in and out, effortless but commanding. Perry was brave enough to let the bare minimum do the heavy lifting and let every nuanced bounce and thunk captivate in its own right.
‘Earthquake’ by Winston Wright & The Upsetters is aptly named. It rumbles ominously beneath the surface, shaking the foundations of what reggae could be. By now, Perry wasn’t just producing songs, he was reshaping the airwaves, moulding reggae into something unstable, unpredictable, and utterly absorbing. Like a tropical kaiju he had been nurturing with radioactive voodoo, he let it stomp when necessary but also let the light catch its scales, shimmering before disappearing in the strange stew.
Perry’s genius has often been written off as eccentricity, but ‘Confusion’ makes it clear: he knew exactly what he was doing. Every misplaced beat, every warped vocal, every overdriven bassline – it wasn’t an accident – it was a controlled experiment (often on the brink of collapse), an invitation to step into Perry’s alternate dimension where reggae wasn’t just a genre, but a fully immersive experience.
The musicians for these 1971 sessions are little heard outside of those who lap up reggae on a regular basis, but let’s celebrate them alongside a man who, by the early 70,s had already turned a genre inside-out and kicked it up its arse.
Carlton “Charlie” Barrett – Drums
Aston “Family Man” Barrett – Bass
Glen “Capo” Adams – Organ
Denzil “Pops” Laing & Uzziah “Sticky” Thompson – Percussion
Alva “Reggie” Lewis & Ranford “Ranny Bop” Williams – Guitars
Four cheers for all.