The power of cultural reclamation

‘Version’ is an old reggae term I’ve always loved. It refers to a stripped-down, rhythm-heavy instrumental mix of a song, traditionally dubbed onto the B-side of a single. On paper the concept sounds throwaway, and often it was. Over time, however, using reverb and a fair degree of ingrained madness, pioneering Jamaican producers such as Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry, King Tubby and U-Roy twisted ‘versions’ into mind-bending shapes. Time-stretched DJs toasted new rhymes over the top, and dub was born, an art form built from borrowed parts and hair-brained ingenuity.

The notion that popular music is now obsessed with recycling old content is not necessarily fanciful, but it can be reductive. It’s true that release schedules – and my inbox – are filled with news of reissues, anniversary editions of half-forgotten albums, padded-out ‘deluxe’ versions of records younger than your car, box-sets of demos and studio scrapings. That’s before all those tours where vintage artists dutifully perform an entire record from their glory days.