Jimmy Cliff’s charisma and fearless creativity expanded the horizons of reggae music Jimmy Cliff

WWhen Jimmy Cliff died, reggae and the music world in general lost one of its most brilliant opportunists. A less sympathetic might have called it an accident, but from the start there wasn’t much he wouldn’t try if he thought it would enhance himself or the music. Over the years I got to know him, either through interviews or sometimes just hanging out, and a lot of his stories ended with the words: “Well, I didn’t want to say no, did I?” I wasn’t exactly kidding when I told him it should be his logo.

But this was Jimmy Cliff, a charismatic blend of charm, courage, humor and the ability to see beyond what was put before him. Throughout his career, he has often moved away from standard reggae industry practice, often expanding his musical horizons and choices.

This was true early in his career when he saw an opportunity to establish himself as a singer outside the world of Kingston sound systems where artists made records to be played at dances rather than sold. The 17-year-old talked Leslie Kong, a Chinese-Jamaican who owned an ice cream, record and beauty shop called Beverley’s, into starting his own label: “I wrote a song called Dearest Beverley and sang it to him in the shop the next day. He liked my voice…so he asked me how he could start making records. I knew all the musicians and the studios, I knew the business. I knew all the musicians and the studios, I knew this business. So I could help him.” Under Kong and Cliff’s leadership, Beverly has become a highly successful and influential brand.

A few years later, he took the opportunity to move to London, immersed himself in the pop music of the time, and absorbed the new song structures and ideas to apply to Jamaican music that was already evolving from ska to rock to reggae. He has always maintained that this helped him develop as a songwriter and allowed him to take Jamaican music to a much more international mode without losing touch with what it was or should be.

In the late 1960s, this broadening of horizons created something of a problem for music critics. With the Trojan explosion of fun, string-backed reggae hitting the charts and the first movements of roots and culture yet to hit the mainstream, the music was largely dismissed as essentially worthless (BBC Radio 1 was a big dissenter). However, Cliff was releasing thoughtful, well-rounded songs that acknowledged the musical milieu outside Kingston, in the LP format – and this was years before Jamaican music had adapted to albums as more than just collections of singles. His albums Jimmy Cliff and Another Cycle (1969 and 1971, the latter recorded in the US) contained the likes of Sitting in Limbo, Vietnam, Many Rivers to Cross and Wonderful World, Beautiful People, and greatly confused reviewers – this was reggae, Jim, but not as we know it.

It was work of this caliber that attracted The Harder They Come director/writer Perry Henzell to approach him to do the film’s music. When Cliff’s sophisticated and diverse reggae music was contextualized with Hensel’s live visuals, it made perfect sense; Suddenly, the ratings for many of the same songs were down, and Jimmy Cliff was now at the heart of one of the world’s best-selling soundtrack albums. He has always been very proud of his role in introducing the world to Jamaica “as it really was” through this, as well as the music he has made in the 21st century which has always maintained his international reputation, which has always looked outward.

His time in London in the 1960s also provided another example of Cliff’s resourcefulness. On the verge of being kicked out of bed after his landlady discovers she’s living “coloured” under one of her roofs, she sees him in the audience at Top of the Pops – recruited from the London discos where he was frequently on the scene – dancing alongside Nina Simone during her performance. “I told her she couldn’t fire me because I was famous – and she agreed! There is a lot of racism when it comes to celebrities.”

It was also in London that he met Hensel. What happened, and the way Cliff laughed during the reminiscence, goes a long way to sum up who he was and how he dealt with life:

“He asked me if I could write music for films. I said, ‘Yes man, of course I can!’ It was like going back to Kong’s ice cream shop – you have to know your opportunities! Then six months later, Chris Blackwell gave me the script and told me that Perry wanted me to play the lead role. I had never acted before, but I took it and read it and liked it, and I was able to identify with both sides. I knew Regine… [the real-life model for Ivan in the movie]I understood this side of Jamaican life, having worked in the music industry since I was 14 years old. And it wasn’t like I couldn’t do anything.

“And besides, I didn’t want to tell them no, right?”