vinylfanatics.com

**Peace And Love: The Lost Jamaican Masterpiece That Time Almost Forgot**

In the annals of reggae history, certain albums slip through the cracks like smoke through a Kingston window, only to resurface decades later with the force of a revelation. Dadawah's "Peace And Love," originally released in 1974, is precisely such a record—a mystical, genre-defying opus that sounds less like a conventional reggae album and more like the soundtrack to some cosmic spiritual awakening in the Blue Mountains.

The story begins in the early 1970s when Ras Michael, born Michael Henry, had already established himself as a master of the Nyabinghi drumming tradition and a key figure in Jamaica's burgeoning roots reggae scene. After years of backing various artists and leading his own Sons of Negus ensemble, Ras Michael found himself drawn to something deeper, more experimental. Enter the mysterious collective known as Dadawah—a name that roughly translates to "the love of Jah" in Rastafarian patois. This wasn't merely a band; it was a spiritual movement wrapped in musical form.

What emerged from this collaboration was an album that defied every convention of what Jamaican music was supposed to sound like in 1974. While Bob Marley was crafting his anthems of rebellion and love, and Lee "Scratch" Perry was pioneering dub's otherworldly soundscapes, Dadawah ventured into territory that was simultaneously ancient and futuristic. The album's eight tracks blend traditional Nyabinghi percussion with haunting vocals, found sounds, and an almost psychedelic approach to production that wouldn't sound out of place on a Krautrock album.

The opening track, "Zion," sets the tone with its hypnotic drum patterns and ethereal vocal chants that seem to emanate from some primordial source. This isn't the structured verse-chorus-verse format of popular reggae; instead, it's a sonic meditation that builds and recedes like ocean waves. The percussion—featuring traditional kette, funde, and bass drums—creates a polyrhythmic foundation so complex and mesmerizing that it becomes almost trance-inducing.

"Jah Jah Way" stands as perhaps the album's most accessible moment, though "accessible" is a relative term in Dadawah's universe. The track features some of the clearest vocals on the record, with Ras Michael's voice floating over the rhythmic foundation like incense. Yet even here, the conventional song structure dissolves into extended instrumental passages that feel more like collective improvisation than composed music.

The album's centerpiece, "Peace And Love," is a fifteen-minute journey through consciousness itself. Beginning with field recordings of children playing and birds chirping, the track gradually introduces layers of percussion, chanting, and what sounds like homemade instruments. It's the kind of recording that demands complete attention—put it on as background music and you'll miss its subtle power entirely. This is music for deep listening, for meditation, for losing yourself in the spaces between the beats.

What makes "Peace And Love" so remarkable isn't just its spiritual intensity, but its prescient approach to sound. Decades before world music became a marketing category, Dadawah was creating something genuinely global in scope while remaining deeply rooted in Jamaican soil. The album predates the ambient music movement by years, yet tracks like "Run Come Rally" achieve the same sense of spaciousness and environmental awareness that would later define that genre.

For years, the album remained a collector's secret, traded among reggae cognoscenti and psychedelic music archaeologists. Original pressings commanded hundreds of dollars, when they could be found at all. The album's mystique was enhanced by the fact that Dadawah essentially vanished after its release—no follow-up albums, no tours, no interviews. They had delivered their message to the universe and retreated back into the spiritual realm from which they emerged.

Thankfully, several reissues over the past two decades have brought "Peace And Love" to a wider audience, allowing new generations to discover its otherworldly beauty. The album's influence can be heard in everything from contemporary dub techno to the more experimental corners of the modern reggae revival. Artists like King Tubby acknowledged its innovation, and contemporary musicians from Thievery Corporation to various ambient dub producers cite it as a touchstone.

"Peace And Love" remains what it always was—a transmission from another dimension, a reminder that music's highest purpose isn't entertainment but transformation. In our increasingly chaotic