QUEEN IFRICA PLAYS THE SOUND ACADEMY (11 POLSON) WITH LUCIANO AND ETANA
SUN, MAY 11. 8PM. $40-$55 FROM
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WHO IS SHE?
Queen Ifrica is one of the most dynamic performers in reggae today. Born Ventrice Morgan, daughter of ska legend Derrick Morgan, Ifrica has Tina Turner–like energy coursing through her hard-stepping message music.
Ifrica’s ability to instantly rouse a crowd from a multiple spliff–induced stupor was the highlight of last year’s Montreal International Reggae Festival, and the righteous fury she brings to her toasting is balanced by her sweet, soulful singing.
Her debut album, Fyah Muma, came out in 2006. The sprawling 21-track disc tackled a wide range of social issues — too wide for some — along with its sweet yet assertive, romantic tunes. Its wide range of production styles has found favour with roots fans while being tough enough for the dancehall.
WHAT’S HER DEAL?
Although she joined roots legend Tony Rebel’s Flames Productions in the late ’90s, Ifrica only released her first single three years ago. She broke big with “Below the Waist” last year, her prescription for ending marital strife. Unlike Rastafarian lyrics of the 1970s, which focused on more universal struggles, Ifrica explores personal and familial topics that are often the root causes of larger social ailments.
“A lot of times we focus on the problems but not necessarily what the causes are. They don’t just pop out of nowhere. I’m a musician: I believe that people look up to me. They believe in the things that I’m trying to say. But I also have a family, so I can understand an individual who doesn’t have a spotlight around them. I believe in fixing yourself first before you can fix the person next to you.”
“Daddy,” her most controversial song, was nearly banned from radio in Jamaica. “I’ve done a lot of social work,” she says, “where I go into institutions that house kids who have been affected by incest, or by older men or teenaged boys getting [girls] pregnant. A lot of the time, the biggest percentage is incest.”
Was it a difficult song to write?
“It would have been difficult to write it if I didn’t know exactly what to say,” she replies, with typical directness.
EQUAL RIGHTS?
Few women in reggae have been able to exert creative control over their music, and Ifrica fights against anyone who would reduce her or her sistren to one-dimensional personalities. She speaks glowingly of her friend Lady Saw as an example of a woman who was painted into a corner by the industry, but rebelled against her slacker-than-slack (Jamaican slang meaning vulgar or sexually suggestive) image on her last album to explore issues similar to Ifrica’s concerns.
“Lady Saw is someone who had to do what she had to do because of how the system was set at the time; she wanted that break. She always said in her interviews that she started out with positive songs but no one was paying her any mind. I respect the fact that she has become more mature. It’s not going to be the same to go on stage and sing [slack] songs when she’s 60. With her latest album she’s setting up the scene so she can relax down the road.”
Finally achieving widespread acclaim after more than 10 years, Ifrica feels like she’s just warming up as an artist and as a role model. “It’s very important for me to stay true to what I am doing. I know there’re a lot of very good females that just need to see someone do it to assure them that it can happen to them too.”