Carlos Jones and P.L.U.S. keep playing reggae
Akron Beacon Journal - December 21, 2006
Ken
Love/Akron Beacon Journal
Carlos
Jones (rear) performs with his band at Tangier Saturday Nov, 25, 2006,
in Akron, Ohio. Carlos Jones reggae band opened up for the Numbers Band
Saturday night. On guitar (front) is Dan Sharamo.
The
cabaret at Tangier in Akron is skanking.
It's
the
Saturday after Thanksgiving and although the venue isn't packed, the
dance floor is, as a group of women and a few unself-conscious guys
sway, spin and undulate to the steady, syncopated grooves emanating
from the stage.
On
that
stage is Carlos Jones and the Peace Love Unity Syndicate, better known
as the P.L.U.S. Band, doing what they do best and what Jones has made
his life's work: bringing the peaceful vibe of reggae music to the
people.
The
day
after Christmas, Jones will headline his third annual Holiday Revival
at the House of Blues Cleveland. Opening will be hip-hop/R&B band
Ghetto Wisdom, featuring Mike Calhoun, guitarist for the Dazz Band.
For
many, Jones is the undisputed king of Ohio reggae, with nearly 30 years
of music making under his dreadlocks.
Since
the late '70s, Jones has dedicated his life to spreading reggae's
message of peace, love and unity and the healing power of music to the
people.
The
Virginia native and Army brat, who is 48, moved to Cleveland in the
'60s, listening to classic Motown and R&B and gospel music in his
grandfather's church before discovering the Beatles.
After
his older brother introduced him to Bob Marley's Natty Dread album
in the early '70s, Jones went to see the rising star at Cleveland's
Music Hall in 1978 and he had an epiphany.
``That
really set me on fire. The place was packed, everybody on their feet.
The smoke was in the air like a haze and you look on stage and there's
this bright colorful, pulsating living organism.
``He
was
living and breathing like a dragon and the vibe in the air was
electrically charged and there's this little guy (Marley) in the middle
of it all holding everything in the palm of his hand,'' said Jones,
still awed 28 years later.
``Everyone
was caught up in that one vibration. We were all one and how often do
you fell that in a crowd of people?''
Shortly
after that show, Jones' fashionable Afro transformed into the
foundation of the sandy blond dreadlocks he wears today, and the
budding percussionist hooked up with I-Tal, one of the earliest
American reggae bands in the area not consisting of transplanted
Jamaicans.
I-Tal
toured the Midwest and released one self-titled album.
In
1984,
Jones, a blossoming songwriter, and some of his fellow I-Tal members
started the band First Light, which incorporated strains of rock and
R&B into its grooves.
Like
I-Tal, First Light built up a strong local following and released two
albums, Meltdown in 1987 and Groove Telepathy in 1994.
But
despite the group's success, Jones desired to get back to a traditional
roots/reggae sound and put together a small combo called Strictly Roots
before expanding the group and dubbing it the Peace Love Unity
Syndicate and ending First Light in 1998.
Jones
and the P.L.U.S. band released one album, Roots With Culture, in
2004, perform regularly all over Ohio and get enough steady work (their
tour schedule has gigs booked through next March) so that music can be
Jones' full-time job, allowing him to provide for his wife, Dori, and
two daughters, Rachel, 19, and Soraya, 17.
Though
Jones says he'd like to expand the group's touring circle, which
reaches a little into Indiana, Pennsylvania and Michigan, he holds no
illusions about ``making it.'' He is happy being the big fish in the
relatively small Cleveland reggae pond.
` `It
never was an objective of mine to be a star,'' he said. ``It's all
about succeeding and translating that spirit and being able to bring it
to other people. Not only to feel it yourself, but to share it.''
One
group of people Jones would especially like to share with is the
younger generation, who he says is growing up in a more insulated
society in which iPods, DJs and MP3 blogs have replaced the live music
experience.
Unlike
the 1960s and '70s, he said, the bulk of pop music does not reflect
what's actually going on in the world around them.
Young
people ``use music as an escape from reality rather than a mirror,'' he
said. ``Music has a way of penetrating the consciousness in a way a lot
of other artistic mediums don't.
``Once
people find themselves thinking about things that are truthful, it also
brings with it a responsibility. Once you know something, you can't
unknow it. With knowledge comes responsibility, and a lot of people
don't want that responsibility. They'd rather have ignorance, because
it's easier.''
Jones
and his band provide smooth rhythms that get the body moving, but
nestled between those grooves and calls for ``one love'' and unity are
such lyrics as ``I see the marching soldiers over there/You tell them
that they're fighting for their honor/Defending our freedom, and that
they are all heroes, but you don't tell them that they are all
disposable'' (from Marching Soldiers).
``A
spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down so you give them something
that's healthy,'' he said. ``They come and dance and they feel good and
maybe they don't even know they're getting a message. But it has a way
of penetrating, people pick up on it.''
Jones
and the P.L.U.S. band are planning to record an album for release
sometime in 2007, and with the advent of the Internet, Jones has been
gaining new fans young and old in far-flung places, such as Australia,
Turkey and Portugal.
``It
levels the playing field,'' Jones said of sites such as myspace and
CDBaby. ``No longer do you have to be a slave and try and cater to the
people at some record company. You eliminate the middleman and get
right to the people.
``And
when we talk about reggae music, it's the music of the people. It's the
common people's music.''
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