When most people think of reggae music, they think of Bob Marley; Jamaica; smoking sensamilla; the red, yellow, and green and the Jamaican flag. More informed heads might even think of Jah-on-Earth Haile Selassie, the last Emperor of Ethiopia, or the Lion Of Judah. No matter how into reggae you are, you are not likely to picture two skinny white Israelites from Tel Aviv, the subject matter of Ariel Tagar’s Congo Beat The Drum documentary.

Congo Beat The Drum follows Ariel Tagar and Uri Wertheim, two Israeli musicians who make music under the names Kalbata and Mixmonster, respectively. The pair own a recording studio in Tel Aviv, stacked to the rafters with vintage recording gear, prompting the duo to record a record in the style of the vintage ‘60s-’80s reggae they are obsessed with. The premise is simple – they would record all the instrumentals in Tel Aviv, and then travel to reggae’s spiritual nucleus, Kingston, Jamaica, to hunt down obscure reggae vocalists they adore, to get the authentic feeling and help to support the culture.

In Jamaica, they encounter a very different world, going deep into the subterranean underground of Kingston in search of the obscure style known as Rub-A-Dub. Tagar and Wertheim hook up with a local musician who acts as tour guide, talent scout, and psychopomp to Kingston’s musicians, record stores and legendary studios.

Most of Congo Beats The Drum revolves around hunting down obscure vocalists, like Prince Jazzbo, Major Mackerel, Puddy Roots, and Little John, and the resulting recording sessions. It’s a fascinating and essential glimpse into a Jamaica that barely anyone gets to see.

Of these glimpses, the recording session with Major Mackerel and a local dance at U-Roy’s legendary sound system particularly stand out. This is where the REAL reggae comes from, light years from the Putumayo samplers you’ll find in polite coffee shops. These scenes capture the dark trance of reggae, an MC flowing like a mad prophet over the recorded ghosts of machines. Tagar and Wartheim’s cameras capture the ganja smoke, the sweat of hundreds of bodies moving, smashing the critical reserve you’ll usually find in a documentary film.

Tagar and Wartheim’s cameras capture the ganja smoke, the sweat of hundreds of bodies moving, smashing the critical reserve you’ll usually find in a documentary film.

The other local color that particularly stands out is a tour through a local record store/recording studio (I believe it was Sonic Sounds, in Kingston), filled to capacity with vintage vinyl & recording equipment. It’s enough to make any analog lover or cultural historian drool, regardless of how much you dig repetitious basslines and dubbed-out percussion.

The raw footage, by itself, would be enough to warrant a viewing, but Congo Beats The Drum’s creators did one better, interspersing the record store’s stuffed shelves with archival footage of serious-looking white men in blazers, wandering through some major label’s vaults. The message is clear, but subtle – this music should be studied, preserved, taken serious, and appreciated. In a just world, this record store would be taken as seriously as the Smithsonian and the Library Of Congress.

“In a just world, this record store would be taken as seriously as the Smithsonian and the Library Of Congress”

For some, it is. There’s copious shots of serious devotees wandering the stacks. The filmmakers encounter a young dreadlocked man in the shadowy basement, who promptly delivers a lava flow freestyle, in a thick patois, to be remembered, to be taken seriously. These are the kinds of moments capture, in Sonic Sounds, and throughout the film. The history lesson is interrupted with idyllic, peaceful shots of people hanging about the record store, playing vinyl, getting down to the grooves. Little babies dance, the next generation of Natty Dread.

People like to come down on reggae, (and pretty much anything that hippies like), not taking it that seriously, thinking it redundant and repetitious, only about smoking weed, blissing out, and escaping. This couldn’t be further from the truth. A lot of people don’t realize that Jamaican music from the late ‘70s and early ‘80s gave birth to many of today’s current recording techniques, like the remix for instance, as well as the roots of hip-hop. Modern music simply could not exist without the innovation of these funky, weird, homemade recording studios and sound systems.

As we can see from Congo Beats The Drum, a lot of people take reggae very seriously, indeed.

When speaking of a movie about two Israelis going to Jamaica to record a reggae album, the question of cultural appropriation is bound to arise. It is no secret that much of reggae’s modern following comes from white people. It’s not hard to jump on white dreads for cultural appropriation, but there is not an ounce to be found with Tagar and Wartheim. First, and foremost, the music (and vocals) are all recorded genuine, authentic old school Jamaican recording techniques (and equipment). Kalbata and Mixmonster are genuine disciples of rub-a-dub techniques, swimming in vibe, and quite willing to go into the offbeat mindset of Jamaican artistry (even when it’s difficult).

Secondly, and nearly as importantly, although it’s not really touched on in the film, reggae & Rasatafarianism, and Israel and Judaism have a long, complicated, intertwined relationship. Both deal heavily in the idea of Zionism, looking for a home, for a promised land. A lot of early reggae and dub draws heavily from the Old Testament, particularly Psalms, for inspiration. The influence is reciprocal, as many Israelites and Jewish people have found inspiration in reggae’s stone grooves, with Matisyahu being one of the most high profile examples.

There’s something in reggae that resonates. But, ultimately, for many diverse reasons, some people just like it. They feel it, in their bones. They’re willing to travel around the word to experience the real thing.

Congo Beats The Drum offers an alternative to the usual clinical, talking head documentary, instead fully immersing both the creators, and finally, the viewers in a living breathing culture. You’ll probably like reggae, too, when the credits roll.

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Find out more about Congo Beat The Drum or download the soundtrack over at Amazon/iTunes
Congo Beat The Drum homepage
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@Kalbata
@mixmonster