The Paragon: Bob Andy

Map It  Farragut North 

SOMETIMES BOB ANDY just didn't feel like jumping. Sure, Marcia Griffith's version of "Feel Like Jumping" was one of the reggae singer-songwriter's biggest tunes, but Andy didn't have the energy to follow the opening dictates of his song:

I feel like jumping
Lord, I feel like shouting now
I feel like moving
I feel like grooving now

In fact, it's the second stanza that represented the mindset of Bob Andy, one of the key creators at the legendary Studio One:

I feel like laughing
Lord, I feel like crying now
I feel like sighing
And I feel like dying

The smooth singer who co-founded the harmony vocal group The Paragons, wrote hits for the likes of Ken Boothe ("I Don't Want to See You Cry") and sung his own smashes ("I've Got to Go Back Home") in the 1960s — then partnered with Griffiths in the early 1970s for lustrously grooving duets — couldn't overcome the mystery ailments that clouded his mind and zapped his strength. So Andy sat out large sections of the 1970s, when another reggae tunesmith named Bob came to worldwide prominence, as well as big swatches of the 1980s.

But for fans of Jamaican music, it was a relief when the name "Bob Andy" started appearing more frequently on concert posters and 7-inch singles again in the 1990s. His health regained, Andy, 63, has been a steady presence ever since — and in 2006 his long comeback was topped off by the Jamaican government conferring him an Order of Distinction.

On Sunday Andy comes to Washington, D.C., to help celebrate Jamaica's 45th independence day at an all-day festival sponsored by the Embassy of Jamaica. (For our other pieces on Jamrock's independence day celebrations, click here and here.)

Express talked to the man born Keith Anderson about his independence day memories, his timeless music and his struggles to find good health.

» EXPRESS: What do you remember most about Jamaica's first independence day in 1962?
» ANDY: The introduction of street dances. The sound systems were given permits to go to the different four-way junctions and block the streets off. And people celebrated all night. Jamaican music was in its genesis, and it was a good that we were getting independence and our music was there to accompany it. That's what I remember most vividly. The psychology of freedom, liberation and making the music be the soundtrack to the event, and to life, was the most amazing thing to me. I was 18 at the time, and in retrospect I think we were fortunate enough that our culture — the musical aspect of it and the dance aspect of it — could accompany us into the new status.

» EXPRESS: Did you ever participate in the song competitions that happen during independence festivities?
» ANDY: Yes. I was a founding member of a group called The Paragons, and in 1966 the festival song competition allowed professional artists to enter for the first time that year; normally it was an amateur competition. But in 1966 you had professional artists competing, so you had people like The Blues Busters, The Paragons, Derrick Harriott, Joe Higgs and Toots and the Maytals, who won it with "Bam Bam" in 1966. I also worked for the Jamaica Cultural Development Commission as a judge for these amateur competitions for a couple of years after that.

» EXPRESS: How did it work in the 1960s when you were writing songs for others?
» ANDY: I came to a parting of the ways with The Paragons: They went to Treasure Isle; I went to Clement Dodd's Studio One. And because there was a custom to be a part of the group, I never really had the confidence to start recording as a solo artist immediately. So I had odd jobs around the studio for which I could earn a small salary, if it were ever available, and I would look into the studio and see how they coordinate the music, etc. And I had written a couple of songs, and I had sung one of the songs ["It's Impossible"] for Delroy Wilson, and he liked it tremendously and we recorded it. UB40 recorded it and entitled it "Impossible Love" on the "Labour of Love Vol. 2." And I write that song ["I Don't Want to See You Cry"] and played it for Ken Boothe, and we recorded it. That happened and I realized I had this strength that was so well liked, then I had more confidence because I knew what I was singing myself. But I was never actually assigned to write for an artist.

» EXPRESS: You said you developed the confidence to sing these songs just as well as others could. But in the Jamaica Observer last year you said the following: "I never had the physical strength at the time to push for what I wanted. I had a lot of issues, and as much as I had the musical talent I had so many issues that prevented any progress. I had a warped view of the world, which sadly gave me a warped view of myself." Could you elaborate on that?
» ANDY: I could have gone on and become, probably, a somewhat successful artist, but I probably wouldn't be alive today. I had [a] defect at birth, which I haven't bothered to explain to a lot of people. Because I look quite coordinated to people, but they don't know the physical duress I endure. So, not wanting to go into the nature of my defect, one of the results is that I had protracted intense headaches, which some people refer to migraines; I just saw it differently. When your head pounds as tremendously as often it did me, you're never stable enough to be able to focus on any one thing.

For me it was very strenuous to resocialize myself, because I grew up in circumstances where my socialization was strained; it was painful, it was among some very ignorant people, so I had to step outside, put [my] career on hold and develop myself spiritually, emotionally, physically. I knew I was going to have to put my work off for a later date, however old I might be when that time comes around. And if I made it, I made it. But it was important to me that I developed that mental fortitude and become a well-rounded person, and then I could put the work of artistry into perspective.

This was in the '70s and '80s. In the '90s is when I really got on top of things and feel like I'm able to overcome some of my physical obstacles. There were some psychosomatic diseases; it's not anything that's been signed on a note by a doctor, so to speak. But I took my life into my own hands and I embarked on a holistic lifestyle. It's not one disease.

I [wasn't] born with a shoulder muscle, which allows you to lift your arm above your head. So I knew I had a slight disability, but it wasn't until 2000 when I went to an Irish chiropractor who looked at my anatomy and made a deduction. From that, I've been able to put a lot of things in perspective and know how to go about strengthening the muscles.

And I always had clogged sinuses, which is not a good sign. You don't know when it's going to affect you: Just when you're going onstage you realize you don't have clear passages. So I chose to remove myself, because I wanted to do this thing at the highest level possible.

» EXPRESS: Now that you've discovered the source of your problems, and been able to treat them, your career is blossoming again.
» ANDY: I picked up where I left off. I knew I had the talent, but the vessel wasn't ready for the talent.

I used to read a lot when I was a youth. Because I hadn't gone to school, one of the ways I compensated was by reading a lot. And one of the books I read back then was by Carl Gustav Jung, a Swedish psychiatrist, who stated in his biography that music should be taught with gymnastics, or some kind of gym work, or it will wear away the edges of the soul. And I took that literally to mean you have to have a vessel with the capacity and the strength to hold a certain level of talent, or it will just burn you right out.

I think I'm on the wellness path, and I've seen results in my holistic approach to health and life.

» Gardens of the Organization of American States, 17th Street and Constitution Avenue NW; with DJ Jerry D, DJ Sprang International, Zedicus, Image Band, Bare Essentials and Shaggy, Sun., 1 p.m., free; 202-452-0660. (Farragut North)

Photos courtesy Bob Andy