State Of Emergency. The Independent Voice for Black Dance

Music

The music wing of State of Emergency was founded in 1986 by Steve Marshall and grew out of one of London's most influential centres for black music, known as PYRAMID. The foundation of the company was in recording numerous known and unknown bands and artists in the fields of reggae, soul, jazz, and African music. Throughout the 1980s Steve Marshall also worked as assistant to the legendary Jamaican record producer, Lee “Scratch” Perry. In the 1990s Steve found a new direction, recording up and coming hip hop and RnB artists on the London scene. Between 2002 and the present day, Steve (under the producer name, John Saxon) has created three albums with Lee Perry, including 'The End Of An American Dream', "Scratch Came Scratch Saw Scratch Conquered" and "Revelation". He has also produced some great recordings with Keith Richards, George Clinton and an album, entitled “I AmErica”, with UK RnB singer Erica Iji.

“The End Of An American Dream” was nominated for a Grammy in 2008 in the category Best Reggae Album.

"Revelation" was nominated for a Grammy in 2011, also in the category 'Best Reggae Album'

› Visit State of Emergency on MySpace

Music available online

Revelation, Lee Scratch Perry
LEE 'SCRATCH' PERRY
Revelation
 
iTunes | Amazon UK
The End Of An American Dream
LEE 'SCRATCH' PERRY
The End Of An American Dream
 
iTunes | Amazon UK
Scratch Came Scratch Saw Scratch Conquered
LEE 'SCRATCH' PERRY
Scratch Came Scratch Saw Scratch Conquered

iTunes | Amazon UK
I Am Erica
ERICA IJI
I Am Erica

www.ericaiji.com
iTunes
 

Reviews

OC Weekly
Record Review: Lee "Scratch" Perry, 'Revelation'

By Nate Jackson, Tue, Aug. 31 2010
The Hype: Some people just don't know when to give up. Luckily, Lee "Scratch" Perry is one of those people. Though most are content to let his career wander into the annals of dub history, Perry has always managed to pop up with something new every year (sometimes twice a year) to keep his sounds fresh in our ears. With the birth of Revelation, Perry's new sonic collection steeped in religious symbolism seems fitting. Especially since his discography is probably about as thick as a Bible by now.

The Judgement: Balancing dub wizardry, sage wisdom and grey-haired eccentricity is a job the Lee "Scratch" Perry does better than most. Of course most aren't in his position-- recording their fifty-second solo album at the ripe old age of 74. Surfacing again with his latest full-length, Revelation (released Aug. 10 on Megawave Records), Jamaica's legendary Upsetter christens echo-drenched beats and faith-based rhetoric with the fervor of a hallucinating holy roller. As expected Scratch employs a tangle of tried and true ingredients: galactic laser zaps, hot and sticky reggae beats, a dash of George Clinton and a scraggly helping of Keith Richards. It sounds random, but for the average Perry fan, this formula is right in the man's wheelhouse. 

From the outset, everything from the CD cover to track titles like "Psalm," "Holy Angels" and Eye for an Eye" suggest that Perry's proclivities for drugs and alcohol have been replaced by incense and scripture. By the way, they actually have been. But don't be fooled. Perry's religious overtones are spliced with songs about hard life experiences, vice and psychedelic phantoms. His voice creeks and bends like and old wooden floor (or a 74 year-old man) as he repeats cryptic lyrics that go from hopeful to haunting on songs like "Let There Be Light" and "Money Come Money Go."  Much of the album delves into ancient biblical imagery that acts as the album's unifying solvent over taut snare snaps, fuzzy bass lines, searing synth chords and stoned eigth notes. 

Aside from relying on sounds constructed during his stint with past groups like the Upsetters, Perry also enlists the help of legendary confidants George Clinton and Keith Richards, both featured on the album. On "Scary Politicians," Clinton lends some gravelly babbling to Perry's song dedicated to the hopelessly corrupt ruling class. Richards--a long time champion of Perry's music--lends some understated rhythm guitar licks to one of the album's quirky hypnotic tracks "Book of Moses."

Though the album is big on religious revelations, it's good to see that reverence is still not Perry's strong suit. Otherwise, "Freaky Michael"-- a randomly comic jab about Michael Jackson's life long obsession with erasing his blackness-- might not have made it on the track listing. Making fun of the deceased King of Pop is a daring move, even for a respected maverick like Perry whose knack for shock value has historically been his prime commodity. It also reminds us that even though he may not have too many marbles left upstairs, Perry still has--and will always have--balls.

The Grade: A-

 

 

Lee Perry - "Scratch Came Scratch Saw Scratch Conquered"

Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Washington Post, Bill Friskics-Warren
Few musical geniuses this side of Sun Ra are as eccentric and self-mythologizing as Lee "Scratch" Perry, the Jamaican producer, performer and DJ whose pioneering work helped shape punk, dub and rap. As far as being out there goes, Perry's latest album, his umpteenth in a career that spans four decades, never fails to disappoint -- or delight.
"Hallo hallo, this is a skeleton from outer space having a party," he announces to open the record, after which, over reggae rhythms and a juking saxophone, he exhorts those gathered to "funk [their] funk" and "drink [their] drink." Everyone from Marcus Garvey and Bob Marley to international bankers and an enigmatic character named Shotgun, he promises, will be there.

Next up is "Heavy Voodoo," an incantatory number featuring serpentine guitar fills from Keith Richards. Here again, Perry doesn't so much perform as preside, holding forth like a ganja-inflamed priest while a stirred-up soul sister moans in the background.
Mystical and apocalyptic undercurrents run throughout the record, with several of them, such as Perry's injunctions against corrupt politicians, pronouncing judgment on the wicked. "The Game Black" sounds a similar note over Eastern European melodies played on accordion and clarinet. "Headz Gonna Roll," with its refrain of "chop chop chop," includes ghostly warnings from the ubiquitous George Clinton.

Equal parts dadaism and Rastafarianism, Perry's woozy meanderings might not be for everyone, but the abundance of natural soul evident here, from the slinky Afro-beat of "Scratch Is Alive" to the echo-laden dub of "Jealousy," is undeniable.