I am freewheeler Jesus
Only plants know where I stand.
These are two lines from a song I wrote this morning for my band Berry Lee Berry & the Benders.
Towards the end of the song, there is this call:
Rise from the ashes, the Gaza cries!
With hands held high, against the storm
Walls of division must capsize!
As love and justice transform
With tears of the old, through young eyes!
A future bright, where peace is born
A wish for peace, thus concluding this anti-indoctrination song.
Somewhere in February, I sent a song by Berry Lee Berry to a British radio station via Groover. I got a reply back, they found it a beautiful song but ‘the vaccination content makes it impossible for us to play this song on the radio.’ Now, that ‘vaccination content’ was a rather simple line that could be interpreted in many ways.
‘You say I man no take a vaccin, but their animals are a tin-tin’’
Seriously, that was the line that couldn’t be played on British radio, despite Veronique singing the song so beautifully and my playing on the Planet T being at least very decent. But that’s not the point.
How can this be reconciled in any way with the idea of ‘democracy’ or freedom of speech?
The answer is it can’t. Just like censoring scientific research 100% does not belong in a scientific environment. Robin de Boer reports on scientist Dr. Rogier Louwen who has now been honorably reinstated in an unpleasant silence by the LOWI (National Body for Scientific Integrity) and his scientific research was allowed to be put back online (who ‘was allowed’ to remove it and on what legal grounds?) – Read it yourself on Robins weblog.
All of this raises pressing questions. How come a radio station has lists with rules about what can and cannot be included in song lyrics?
Is that why we never hear songs about Gaza?
My goodness, what misery you end up in when democracy means so little to you. When an artist can no longer express a dissenting opinion without risking censorship.
Although it is in England, that’s true, I can’t say our radio overflows with protest songs about Gaza.
Is there also a supervisor who guards artistic integrity and freedom?
This triumph of didactic prudes is also a subject of my new song.
There is a man called the Dreadfari,
whose dreads have stiffened with time.
To him the dread became religion.
He knows what a true rasta is as if
He is a white-powdered judge,
And being no rasta is a crime.
Dreadfari, oh Dreadfari,
Living life by his own decree,
Dreadfari, oh Dreadfari,
A rebel soul, wild and free.
I am skipping school,
I am a bad boy,
Dreadfari, oh Dreadfari,
In his world, he’s the king.
There is a man called the Dreadfari,
Whose heart has stiffened with time.
He no see the beautiful people, no,
He sees his lessons of fear,
Real rastas here, right rasta there,
He no have no pastafaris near.
No, no , nohoooooo
Dreadfari, oh Dreadfari,
Living life by his own decree,
Dreadfari, oh Dreadfari,
A rebel soul, wild and free.
I am skipping school, I am a bad boy,
Dreadfari, oh Dreadfari,
In his world, he’s the king.
He has prophets hanging from his lips,
Polishing his sandal shoes.
And I’m just freewheeler Jesus
Smoking Ganja without a clue.
“Are you in it for the Ganja?” he says.
“Are you a servant of prophet or plant?”
I say, “Gimme the Ganja, teacher,
at least a plant knows where it stands.”
Oooo I am freewheeler Jesus
Oooo only plants know where I stand
Oooooo I am a gnostifar ay
Yes im in it for the Ganja, Papyrus man
Yes I’m in it for the Ganja,
Let the plants come home.
Rise from the ashes, the Gaza cries!
With hands held high, against the storm
Walls of division must capsize!
As love and justice transform
With tears of the old, through young eyes!
A future bright, where peace is born.
Let’s hope that the PEOPLE WHO KNOW WHAT WE CAN SING AND SPEAK ABOUT quickly find the train to North Korea, their holy motherland where their version of ‘democracy’ flourishes in a thousand flowers. And let’s return here to something more fragile, something more human, a place where you could still hear unsafe songs on the radio.
Martijn Benders, 28-06-2024
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