This article is about the genre of music. For other uses, see. Dancehall is a genre of Jamaican that originated in the late 1970s. Initially, dancehall was a more sparse version of than the style, which had dominated much of the 1970s. In the 2000s, dancehall experienced worldwide mainstream success, and by the 2010s, it began to heavily influence the work of established artists and producers, which has helped to further bring the genre into the Western music mainstream. They began in the late 1940s among people from the inner city of , who were not able to participate in dances uptown. Social and political changes in late-1970s Jamaica, including the change from the government of to , were reflected in the shift away from the more internationally oriented towards a style geared more towards local consumption and in tune with the music that Jamaicans had experienced when sound systems performed live. Themes of social injustice, repatriation and the were overtaken by lyrics about dancing, violence and sexuality. Musically, older rhythms from the late 1960s were recycled, with credited as the originator of this trend when he voiced new lyrics over old rhythms between sessions at the studio, where he was working as a session musician. Around the same time, producer was reworking old rhythms at , using the band. The Roots Radics would go on to work with on some of the key early dancehall recordings, including those that established , , and as major reggae stars. Other singers to emerge in the early dancehall era as major stars included , , and , while more established names such as and successfully adapted. Sound systems such as Killimanjaro, , Gemini Disco, Virgo Hi-Fi, Volcano Hi-Power and Aces International soon capitalized on the new sound and introduced a new wave of. The older toasters were overtaken by new stars such as , , , , , , and — a change reflected by the 1981 Junjo Lawes-produced album A Whole New Generation of DJs, although many went back to for inspiration. Deejay records became, for the first time, more important than records featuring singers. Yellowman, one of the most successful early dancehall artists, became the first Jamaican deejay to be signed to a major American record label, and for a time enjoyed a level of popularity in Jamaica to rival 's peak. The early 1980s also saw the emergence of female deejays in dancehall music, such as , , and. Other female dancehall stars include artistes like and in the late 1990s to the 2000s , , and more. Sound systems and the development of other musical technology heavily influenced dancehall music. Especially because the audience of dancehall sessions were lower-class people, it was extremely important that they be able to hear music. Sound systems allowed people to listen to music without having to buy a radio. Therefore, the dancehall culture grew as the use of technology and sound systems got better. The Jamaican dancehall scene was one created out of creativity and a desire for accessibility, and one that is inseparable from sound system culture. The openness of the venue paired with the innately mobile nature of the sound system, allowed performers to come to the people. At the onset of the dancehall scene, sound systems were the only way that some Jamaican audiences might hear the latest songs from popular artist. Through time, it transformed to where the purveyors of the sound systems were the artists themselves and they became whom the people came to see along with their own original sounds. With the extreme volume and low bass frequencies of the sound systems local people might very well feel the vibrations of the sounds before they could even hear them, though the sound itself did travel for miles. This drawing force attracted people to the dancehall scene along with outside promotion and the entertainment of sound system battles. The resulting atmosphere, though very high energy and celebratory, was also one of competitiveness and performance, hypersexuality and aggressiveness. Jamaica was one of the first cultures to pioneer the concept of remixing. As a result, production level and sound system quality were critical to Jamaica's budding music industry. Brougtton and Brewster in Last Night a DJ Saved My Life states that sound systems were a product of Jamaican social lifestyle. The cultural importance and appreciation of sound systems allowed DJs to really experiment with their sound. With the rising appeal to electronically distorted and enhanced music, musicians wanted to capitalize on this interest and thus that drove innovative collaborations between producers and performers. Music became a factor of many elements and the physicality of that sound was a strategic puzzle left for musicians to solve. Many credit this song as being the first digital rhythm in reggae, featuring a rhythm from a keyboard. This deejay-led, largely synthesized chanting with musical accompaniment departed from traditional conceptions of Jamaican popular musical entertainment. It was far removed from reggae's gentle roots and culture, and there was much debate among purists as to whether it should be considered an extension of reggae. This shift in style again saw the emergence of a new generation of artists, such as , and , who became the biggest star in silage the world. The deejays became more focused on violence, with , , , , , and becoming major figures in the genre. By the early 2000s, dancehall inspired pop music saw increased popularity in Jamaica, as well as in the United States and international markets. The 2000s saw domestic success for dancehall-pop artists, such as , , , , , , and , some of whom saw international success. A variety of western artists have spoken of being inspired by dancehall music, including , whose commercially successful singles 2015 , 2015 and 2017 all heavily rely upon dancehall music. Unsourced material may be challenged and removed. Kingsley Stewart outlines ten of the major cultural imperatives or principles that constitute the dancehall worldview. Such a drastic change in the popular music of the region generated an equally radical transformation in fashion trends, specifically those of its female faction. This transformation is said to coincide with the influx of slack lyrics within dancehall, which objectified women as apparatuses of pleasure. This newfound materialism and conspicuity was not, however, exclusive to women or manner of dress. One major theme behind dancehall is that of space. Most notable is the way in which dancehall occupies a liminal space between what is celebrated and at the same time denigrated in Jamaica and how it moves from private community to public and commercial enterprise. In Kingston's Dancehall: A Story of Space and Celebration, she writes: Dancehall is ultimately a celebration of the disenfranchised selves in postcolonial Jamaica that occupy and creatively sustain that space. Structured by the urban, a space that is limited, limiting, and marginal yet central to communal, even national, identity, dancehall's identity is as contradictory and competitive as it is sacred. Some of Jamaica's significant memories of itself are inscribed in the dancehall space, and therefore dancehall can be seen as a site of collective memory that functions as ritualized memorializing, a memory bank of the old, new, and dynamic bodily movements, spaces, performers, and performance aesthetics of the New World and Jamaica in particular. Dancehall-inspired dancing These same notions of dancehall as a cultural space are echoed in Norman Stolzoff's Wake the Town and Tell the People. He notes that dancehall is not merely a sphere of passive consumerism, but rather is an alternative sphere of active cultural production that acts as a means through which black lower-class youth articulate and project a distinct identity in local, national, and global contexts. Through dancehall, ghetto youths attempt to deal with the endemic problems of poverty, racism, and violence, and in this sense the dancehall acts as a communication center, a relay station, a site where black lower-class culture attains its deepest expression. Thus, dancehall in Jamaica is yet another example of the way that the music and dance cultures of the African diaspora have challenged the passive consumerism of mass cultural forms, such as recorded music, by creating a sphere of active cultural production that potentially may transform the prevailing hegemony of society. In Out and Bad: Toward a Queer Performance Hermeneutic in Jamaican Dancehall Nadia Ellis explicates the culture of combined homophobia and unabashed queerness within Jamaican dancehall culture. It is the power or mastery, of parody, and of getting away with it. Dancing is an integral part of bass culture genres. As people felt the music in the crowded dancehall venues, they would do a variety of dances. Eventually, dancehall artists started to create songs that either invented new dances or formalized some moves done by dancehall goers. Many dance moves seen in hip hop videos are actually variations of dancehall dances. Contradictions Despite dancehall culture's ability to challenge social inequality, it is a hybridization of American aesthetics and the hardships of Kingston, Jamaica. Hope argues that this trend is related to the rise of market as a dominant feature of life in Jamaica, coupled with the role of new media and a liberalized media landscape, where images become of increasing importance in the lives of ordinary Jamaicans who strive for celebrity and superstar status on the stages of dancehall and Jamaican popular culture. Another point of dissension of dancehall from reggae, and from its non-western roots in Jamaica, is on the focus on materialism. Dancehall has also became popular in regions such as Ghana and Panama. Prominent males in the dancehall scene are expected to dress in very expensive casual wear, indicative of European urban styling and high fashion that suggest wealth and status. Since the late 1990s, males in the dancehall culture have rivalled their female counterparts to look fashioned and styled. The female dancehall divas are all scantily clad, or dressed in spandex outfits that accentuate more than cover one's nakedness. In the documentary It's All About Dancing, prominent dancehall artist argues that one could be the best DJ or the smoothest dancer, but if one wears clothing that reflects the economic realities of the majority of the partygoers, one will be ignored. In some cases, dancehall artists whose music featured anti-gay lyrics have had their concerts cancelled. Various singers were investigated by international law enforcement agencies such as , on the grounds that the lyrics incited the audience to assault homosexuals. Many of the affected singers believed that legal or commercial sanctions were essentially an attack against. Some artists agreed not to use anti-gay lyrics during their concerts in Europe and the United States, although some artists, such as Capleton, continue to have their concerts cancelled due to the campaign. Hope argues that dancehall culture's anti-homosexual lyrics formed part of a macho discussion that advanced the interest of the heterosexual male in Jamaica, which is a Christian society with strong influence as well. Even while dancehall culture in Jamaica sported images of men in pseudo-gay poses and costumes, the cultural, religious, social and gendered imperatives of the society advanced and promoted the ideal man as macho and heterosexual and men who are homosexual were identified as inadequate and impure portraits of true masculinity. Dancehall music has played into and with this divide in an extreme and lyrically graphic fashion that has been rendered politically incorrect in many places globally but remains culturally relevant in Jamaica. A new generation of singers and deejays emerged that harked back to the roots reggae era, notably , , , , and. Some popular deejays, most prominently and , began to cite Rastafari and turn their lyrics and music in a more conscious, rootsy direction. Many modern dancehall Rasta artists identify with. Retrieved 8 July 2018. DanceHall: From Slave Ship to Ghetto. Ottawa: University of Ottawa Press. Retrieved 8 July 2018 — via Google Books. Inna di Dancehall: Popular Culture and the Politics of Identity in Jamaica. African and Black Diaspora: An International Journal: 215—236 — via Routledge: Taylor and Francis Group. Sonic diaspora, vibrations, and rhythm: thinking through the sounding of the Jamaican dancehall session. African and Black Diaspora: An International Journal, 1 2 , 215-236. Soul Jazz Records, 1. Last Night a DJ Saved My Life: the History of the Disc Jockey. Hope Inna di Dancehall: Popular Culture and the Politics of Identity in Jamaica. Archived from on July 8, 2017. Retrieved 8 July 2018. Man Vibes: Masculinities in the Jamaican Dancehall. Hope Man Vibes: Masculinities in the Jamaican Dancehall. Retrieved 8 July 2018. Retrieved 8 July 2018. Archived from on 2013-04-29. Man Vibes: Masculinities in Jamaican Dancehall. Kingston: Ian Randle Publishers, 2010.
