Desmond Dekker Is Dead

Get up in the morning, slaving for bread, sir,
so that every mouth can be fed.
Poor me, the Israelite.

Aah.Get up in the morning, slaving for bread, sir,
So that every mouth can be fed.
Poor me, the Israelite.

Aah.My wife and my kids, they are packed up and leave me.
Darling, she said, I was yours to be seen.
Poor me, the Israelite.

Aah.Shirt them a-tear up, trousers are gone.
I don't want to end up like Bonnie and Clyde.
Poor me, the Israelite.

Aah.After a storm there must be a calm.
They catch me in the farm. You sound the alarm.
Poor me, the Israelite.

Aah.Poor me, the Israelite.
I wonder who I'm working for.
Poor me, Israelite, I look a-down and out, sir.

I first got into reggae around 1971, a friend of mine, Deak, gave me a copy of Dave and Ansil Collins, Double Barrel, the second reggae song I heard was Desmond Dekker's The Israelites.
I didn't understand the man's politics or what he was singing about, I was only 11 after all and more concerned with what the songs sounded like than the message they were carrying. And look at that picture, does he look cool or what?

As my childhood heroes die one by one it makes me realise I'm getting older: Lennon from my pre-teen years, Bob Marley and Joe Strummer from my teens and people like Kurt Cobain and Michael Hutchence from my mid twenties and early thirties have all gone from either natural causes, murder or suicide.

At least Mozza is still with us!