Agustus Pablo - 1976 - King Tubbys Meets Rockers Uptown

Agustus Pablo

1976

King Tubbys Meets Rockers Uptown

01. Keep On Dubbing

02. Stop Them Jam

03. Young Generation Dub

04. Each One Dub

05. 555 Dub Street

06. Braces Tower Dub

07. King Tubby Meets Rockers Uptown

08. Corner Crew Dub

09. Say So

10. Skanking Dub

11. Frozen Dub

12. Satta Dub

Bass – Aston (Family Man) Barrett, Leroy Horsemouth, Robert (Robby) Shakespear*

Drums – Carlton (Carlie) Barrett

Guitar – Earl (Chinna) Smith*

Organ, Piano, Clarinet – Agustus Pablo

Saxophone [Tenor] – Richard (Dirty Harry) Hal

Trombone – Vincent (Don D Junior) Gordon*

Trumpet – Bobby Ellis

Augustus Pablo's 1976 Dub Masterpiece: King Tubbys Meets Rockers Uptown – Where Melodica Meets Echo in a Jamaican Jam Session

Ah, Augustus Pablo – the melodica maestro who turned a kid's toy instrument into the sonic equivalent of a Rastafarian sermon. Born Horace Swaby on June 21, 1954, in St. Andrew, Jamaica, Pablo grew up in a musical hotbed, attending Kingston College where he tickled the ivories on the organ like a prodigy in short pants. By his teens, he was already experimenting with the melodica, that quirky wind keyboard that sounds like a harmonica got cozy with a piano. His big break came through producer Herman Chin Loy, leading to early hits that blended roots reggae with dub's spacey echoes. Pablo wasn't just a player; he was a producer, keyboardist, and dub innovator who helped birth the genre's golden era. Tragically, he passed away on May 18, 1999, at 44 from a nerve disorder (myasthenia gravis), but not before leaving a legacy that's as enduring as a well-rolled spliff. Think of him as the dub world's Gandalf – mystical, influential, and always one step ahead of the orcs (or in this case, mainstream pop).

Now, dive into King Tubbys Meets Rockers Uptown, the 1976 album that's basically dub's Declaration of Independence – declaring freedom from vocals and straight-up rhythms. This wasn't just an album; it was a cosmic collision between Pablo's Rockers International label and the mixing wizardry of King Tubby (Osbourne Ruddock), the engineer who treated the studio console like a mad scientist's lab. Recorded amid Jamaica's mid-70s reggae boom, when roots sounds were evolving into dub's echo-heavy experiments, the sessions happened at Randy's Studio in Kingston – a legendary spot where hits were born faster than you could say "irie." Pablo brought in his original Rockers band tracks, mostly instrumentals he'd produced earlier, and handed them to Tubby for remixing at his Waterhouse studio. Tubby, with assistant Errol Thompson, flipped them into dub versions, stripping away elements, adding reverb, delay, and echo like a chef overdosing on spices. The result? A 30-minute trip that's sparse yet immersive, proving dub could stand alone without the original songs' baggage. Fun background: This was during reggae's "rockers" era, with militant rhythms and social commentary, but Pablo and Tubby turned it into something meditative – like yoga for your eardrums, if yoga involved bass drops that could rattle your ribcage.

The musicians? Pablo didn't skimp – he assembled the Rockers All-Stars, a supergroup of Jamaica's finest, like the Avengers but with more dreadlocks and less CGI. Pablo himself handled melodica, piano, organ, clavinet, and production duties, his signature melodica weaving through like a ghostly whistle in the wind. On the mixing board: King Tubby, the dub godfather, with Prince Jammy (Lloyd James) occasionally lurking as an apprentice. The core band featured:

Drums: Carlton "Santa" Barrett (of Wailers fame, bringing that one-drop rhythm like a heartbeat on steroids).

Bass: Aston "Family Man" Barrett (Carlton's brother, laying down lines so deep they could plumb the Mariana Trench) or Robbie Shakespeare (of Sly & Robbie, adding funky precision).

Guitar: Earl "Chinna" Smith (whose riffs slice through the haze like a machete through sugarcane).

Percussion: Various, including Pablo's own touches.

Horns: Dirty Harry (tenor sax), Vin Gordon (trombone), and Bobby Ellis (trumpet), adding brass bursts that pop like fireworks in a echo chamber.

These were session pros who'd backed everyone from Bob Marley to Burning Spear, but here they served Pablo's vision – tight grooves turned inside out by Tubby's tweaks. No egos, just vibes; it's like they all showed up to a party where the DJ decided to remix reality itself.

Anecdotes from these sessions read like a stoner's fever dream. Tubby's studio was a tiny shack in Waterhouse, crammed with gear that looked like it could launch a rocket – or at least send your mind into orbit. One tale: Tubby would drop out instruments mid-track, creating "space" that felt revolutionary, like he was inventing silence as a instrument. Pablo, ever the mystic, reportedly chain-smoked while laying down melodica lines, turning the room into a foggy dub sanctuary. There's a humorous bit about how the title track became a hit single in 1975 before the album dropped – it was a dub of Jacob Miller's "Baby I Love You So," but Tubby mangled it so beautifully it outshone the original, proving remixes could steal the spotlight. And get this: After this album, Tubby's studio became legendary, with artists queuing up like it was the hottest club in Kingston. Pablo once joked (or so legend says) that the melodica was his "far east sound," blending Asian influences with Jamaican roots – imagine explaining that to your grandma over tea. On X, fans still geek out: One user blasted it on a sunny day with windows open, daring neighbors to complain, while another pairs it with spring vibes like a seasonal ritual.

Legacy? Oh boy, this album didn't just influence dub – it defined it, like how pizza defines "comfort food." Released on Clocktower Records, it's hailed as one of the finest dub records ever, shaping everything from punk (John Lydon was a fan) to electronic music (think early Massive Attack or even modern bass-heavy genres). It popularized the "rockers" style – militant, stepping rhythms – and proved dub was art, not just B-sides. Critics call it a "landmark," "seminal," and "revolutionary," influencing artists like Simon Raymonde (Cocteau Twins) and Adrian Sherwood. In Jamaica, it cemented Pablo and Tubby as icons; globally, it's a gateway drug to reggae for newcomers. Even today, reissues fly off shelves, and X threads recommend it as essential listening – one post calls it a "trance-setter." In a world of overproduced beats, its raw, echoey minimalism is a hilarious rebuke: "Why add more when less hits harder?"

As for the in-depth review: Clocking in at 12 tracks (plus bonuses on reissues), King Tubbys is a dub odyssey that's hypnotic, sparse, and groovy – like floating in a zero-gravity bass bin. Opener "Keep on Dubbing" sets the tone with echoing horns and dropping rhythms, as if the band is playing hide-and-seek with the listener. The title track? A stone-cold classic – Pablo's melodica dances over a riddim that's equal parts militant march and laid-back stroll, with Tubby's effects making it feel like the music's breathing. "Each One Dub" strips "Each One Teach One" to its bones, all bass thumps and ghostly echoes, perfect for pondering life's mysteries (or just zoning out). "Frozen Dub" chills with icy delays, while "Satta Dub" (a dub of "Satta Massagana") elevates spiritual vibes to nirvana levels.

The album's genius is in its restraint: No filler, just pure dub alchemy where silence speaks volumes. Humorously, it's the anti-disco of 1976 – while everyone boogied, Pablo and Tubby were out here engineering echoes that could make a mirror jealous. Production's raw and revolutionary, with Tubby's four-track mixer pushing boundaries like a budget Einstein. If you're into dub, reggae, or just sounds that massage your soul, this is essential – a timeless trip that's as fresh as a Jamaican breeze. Augustus Pablo and King Tubby, we dub thee legends; your glitter (or should I say echo) still shines.