John Brown’s Body: with that phrase, we’re reminded that the echo of human action is long-lived, even if things don’t always work as predicted. As a martyr of the abolitionist movement in the United States, John Brown was finally captured and hanged in 1859, following the violent raid of a U.S. arsenal in Harper’s Ferry, Virginia (now within West Virginia’s borders). He and his men intended to arm the region’s slaves for revolt. Fate stopped him in the implementation of that plan, yet it was still one of the final actions that sparked the American Civil War. 

As the chosen name of one of the longest-storied and most prolific reggae bands born in the U.S., it rings of another force that has echoed through the decades – this time, through music and song. John Brown’s Body has evolved over the span of nearly 30 years (Anniversary: 2025), and that math ignores the steps taken during the musicians’ pre-JBB days.

In 2018, JBB declared that it would be taking an indefinite hiatus. Since that time, band members have been playing under different names and arrangements. However, to the delight of many, JBB announced that some of the original members would be reuniting for select performances in 2024. With that, it feels like the right time to check in with them to see how things are going with that process. It also seems an appropriate time to take a walk back to the band’s first movements, just to see how far JBB has journeyed.

Recently, I connected with singer/songwriter Kevin Kinsella and drummer Tommy Benedetti. We touched on the past, the present, and the future of JBB – along with discussions on reggae’s reach, the responsibilities of reggae groups from outside Jamaica’s borders, and the continuous process of exposure and growth, while working as a musician.

Part 1: Kevin Kinsella

(Part 2 with Tommy Benedetti to follow next week.)

Rootfire: What are your thoughts on John Brown’s Body members performing together again, under the JBB name? What lead to that?

Kevin Kinsella: We’ve been doing shows as KK and the OG JBB, and when Elliot (Martin) retired from performing, Tommy (Benedetti), me, and Lee Hamilton – those really are the three founding members of John Brown’s Body – were just like, “Hey, it’s us playing these songs; let’s just call it what it is. It’s John Brown’s Body.” We asked Elliot, and he was very gracious. He was like, “Take the torch, and go forward.”

It’s good to be back. We definitely missed Elliot at the last show – those harmonies, his presence, and as a tambourine player. He has a condition with his hearing where he can’t do live music.

I had been continuing doing music all this time, as Kevin Kinsella, also with 10Ft. Ganja Plant. I put out a handful of solo records. Just last year, I recorded At Imperial Sound, Volume 2. That was all prior to this coming about. I was in the running, still performing and writing, so it just seemed like the right thing to do, at the right time.

We’ve only done two shows in 2024, officially, as John Brown’s Body. The name, John Brown’s Body, named after the abolitionist John Brown – has a lot of traction. Just like, if you look at a Rolling Stones record sales vs. Keith Richards’s album sales, in this industry name recognition is worth so much. It’s hard to even get a name that people recognize; it’s a hard business.

When I was putting out solo records, people would be like, “I love that song, ‘Walkey Walk Tall.’” It’s like, that’s me singing that – there was a disconnect, is what I’m saying. They might really like a song, like “Heart and Soul,” but not realize that’s Kevin Kinsella singing. So, the name is valuable, and to answer your question, we had been doing it kind of a while, so it wasn’t like, all of a sudden, “Oh! This is totally different.” But, the crowd turnout was different. People showed up, and it’s humbling. I’m deeply grateful.

I’m thinking about the show that we did at The Cabot, in Massachusetts (4/13/24). Eight hundred people show up, and they know the songs –it’s amazing, you know what I mean?

RF: It feels good, right?

KK: I was up on stage with Lee, and I was saying it reminded me of, back in the day, opening up for Israel Vibration, or Culture, and I was like, “Wait a minute. We’re not opening up – they’re here for us.” It took me aback.

RF: Is anything currently in the works for a new JBB album?

KK: That’s what I’m cued up to do here, after I get off the phone – do some writing. Thinking about recording, I think that’s a natural progression – new material with this lineup.

RF: Do you have a favorite album that you pull from when making setlists, with this current lineup?

KK: I did five records with the group, starting with All Time, in 1996. The group started in 1995, so next year will be our 30-year anniversary; it’s cool to think of that. Among Them was ’98, This Day was 2000, Spirits all Around Us was 2002, and then the last record I did with them was Pressure Points, in 2005. That was kind of the passing-of-the-baton record.

We do material from all of the records. I won’t be doing any of Elliot’s numbers. Kind of like when I left, it’s not like he continued singing my songs. I think that’s the right thing to do; we both have enough material. We’re very different, stylistically. Elliot’s vocal style is amazing, a singular style; it’s surgically precise. That’s his great talent.

RF: I’d like to reach back for some of the deeper history of the band and its evolution. Can you tell me about Tribulations?

KK: Tribulations was a band I started with my best friend, Josh Newman, when we played the 10^th grade battle of the bands at our high school. Elliot was in a different band, at that same performance. Elliot and I, and Josh Newman, we’ve all been friends since we were 12 years old. It’s a long story; it’s a family story.

In 1986, we started playing reggae, my friend Josh and I. I had heard the Legend record (Bob Marley and the Wailers), and I had grown up heavy into doo-wap, soul… really doo-wap music, from the ‘50s and ‘60s. When I heard reggae, I was like, “This is doo-wap, meets what I hear every Sunday in church, and it’s got killer drum and bass!” It was the perfect storm; I was hooked.

So, Tribulations started in ’86. We did this battle of the bands. We recorded a single in ‘86/’87 and recorded our first 45 (rpm).  That was “City” on the A-side and “Dancing in the Rain” on the B-side. This was before Elliot was in the band; it was a similar trajectory. Both bands started without Elliot, and then I invited him to come in – to sing and be part of this. He joined the senior year of high school, so two years into that band, we came back with Elliot in the group, and this guy from South Africa – our friend, Mbusi.

We were doing vocal trio style – we called ourselves Mighty Lions, backed by Tribulations. That’s when we first got into The Itals, The Meditations, and Culture. Itals and Meditations really inspired our love of harmony singing. I was like, “Let’s do vocal trio style!” So, we started this group, with us singing vocal trios.

Then, in 1989, we graduated from high school. Josh goes to Berkeley College of Music, in Boston; Elliot goes to Tufts in Boston, so I kind of tagged along. Josh’s roommate was Lee Hamilton, so we continued Tribulations in Boston. That’s where we went professional. We recruited some killer players from Berkeley, and we just started gigging around Boston. We started touring in the North East and then nationally, so Tribulations is where we got our business sense.

From 1986-1993, Tribulations went on. We won a Yamaha Sound Check competition. This started as a nationwide battle of the bands, that got down to four bands. They flew us to L.A.; we competed, and we won there. It was on national TV; it was a big deal. This is like ’92, when this happened. Then, we went to Japan, and we competed internationally – representing the US – that was a good time.

Then, we went to Jamaica and played. But, grunge was coming on the scene, and the band was getting too rock for my taste. I was wanting to get back to something more rootsy, folk, jazz, soul, church roots, gospel music, singer songwriter – that’s kinda where I’m coming from. Like Tommy says – written like those Joe Higgs records: Life of Contradiction, Unity is Power.

RF: Speaking of your passion for various forms of music, Jamaica has influenced so many genres of music. Its impact on American music is undeniable and doesn’t show any signs of slowing.

KK: DJ Kool Herc – he was under the tutelage and looked up to U-Roy. That’s a direct fact. That’s where he learned the turntable stuff. He moved to the Bronx; he’s coming direct from Jamaica. He created hip-hop; hip-hop is from Jamaica. It’s always been there, since early. U-Roy put out his first record. I didn’t realize that until later in my life, that DJ has been around since U-Roy went to Treasure Island and toasted over the Paragons tune, “Wear You to the Ball.”

I said that for years, “Hip-hop is from Jamaica.” People were like, “No! What are you talking about?” Now, it’s kinda passé – people talk about it; it’s common knowledge. It’s a fact.

When it went to New York, and it became hip-hop, which is an amazing era – that’s one of New York’s greatest gifts – New York has given a lot; think about jazz in the ‘20s. It’s because all nations of the Earth are there – every nation of the Earth. Not every city can say that.

I give full deference and honor to Jamaica and Jamaican music. I never delved into trying to spit lyrics and chat, so when you do that you have to learn the language, which is Patois. As a white guy, I’ve tried hard – I never set out to be like, “I’m going to put on a Jamaican accent.” But, you start singing Bob Marley tunes, start learning Itals tunes, Meditations, Gladiators, Culture – you have to kinda mimic.

Mimicry is how we learn, as babies. The human species, we mimic. Mimicry is how our brain is programed. Mimicry sometimes has a bad connotation, but it’s a form of learning. Like, if I say, “Do-Re-Mi,” and you go, “Do-Re-Mi” – there are many teaching examples. So, to learn reggae and to be reggae, you have to go into that mode. This leads up to what I want to say about appropriation. People are like, “You’re appropriating black culture.” But, it’s much more about appreciation. If you take time to mimic something, you probably like it; it gives you some pleasure.

People are loving each other; people are appreciating each other. I’m glad the US reggae scene is as big as it is because people are copying the positive message of Bob Marley. I’d rather that than – imagine if there was a multimillion dollar, Neo-Nazi ska movement right now – fuck that!

RF: Mimicry often has a heart of admiration in it, I guess.

KK: I wanna be like you. You know? You make me smile. I think you’re cool. When I first heard Bob Marley, I was like – “That’s what I wanna do.” I didn’t even know what he looked like. I just heard “One Love / People get Ready” on the radio, and it was a Holy Spirit moment. I don’t say that lightly. That’s what started me down the journey.

RF: You felt it.

KK: Yeah, man – that’s the greatest song. It’s a great, great song.

I was in Ireland at the time, driving with my dad – he’s from Ireland. We were visiting our family. I got back to the states, bought the Legend cassette at Record Town in the mall, and I thought it was like a Christian Rick James. I knew nothing about where it was from: Rastafarianism, Jamaica, King Selassie, David and Solomon – the whole story. I’m not the only one who is deeply enamored by this story, this phenomenon called reggae.

RF: I think that’s a common experience in the US, what you’re describing with reggae. That meeting of cultures, you know? How else would we know Jamaica like we know Jamaica?

KK: And, here’s another thing too, man. Listen – Bob Marley wouldn’t have traveled all around the world, and I keep saying Bob Marley, but you could fill in Joseph Hill, Winston Rodney, today’s Kabaka Pyramid – but I’m thinking about the prophets of the original Rastafarianism, who traveled to spread the gospel of Rastafari. And, I’m not a Rastafarian – but they did not go out there and play a concert for 100,000 people in Italy and talk about Jah Rastafari and not expect that seed to take fruit, and there be like an Italian reggae band in the next three years, in that town. That’s why I don’t like when people are like, “You shouldn’t be doing that; you’re a white dude.”

These guys went out there and preached the gospel. They went to the four corners of the Earth; they’re still going. Do you want their message to fall on rocky soil and not take fruit? Bob Marley said, himself, “My music will go, and keep going, until it reaches everyone it needs to reach.” Part of that includes Chinese reggae bands, Swiss reggae bands, American reggae bands, Guam reggae bands – you know?

RF: Yeah, that’s a heavy way to look at it… probably the precise way to look at it, according to their intentions.

KK: First of all, if you didn’t intend it, the music alone – the quality of the music and the spiritual content alone – is going to change people’s lives. People want to follow what makes them feel good. Again, that mimicry – my main thing is, it’s more appreciation than appropriation going on.

We are in late-stage capitalism. Nothing and no one is exempt to being subject to capitalism – because it’s an end game. We know, with people of color vs. white people, just go down the list: economics, health, access to good food, etc. The facts are there, that it’s disproportionate. That’s an injustice; that’s unequal. I’m not erasing that, but I am saying that for somebody, for a white person, to embrace a music like reggae, and you’re gonna get hit by the message, the music, and the meaning – then, more power. That’s a better step. I’m not saying that’s a cure-all, that you’re absolved, and you’re done – but, that’s the best step in the right direction that people of the west could take.

RF: It keeps the music alive and vibrant, too.

KK: That’s something that’s missing – maybe my critique of the American reggae scene is like, black God is an important concept to Rastafarianism: black God, black king, black exceptionalism. Black God is no apology; let’s just start with that. When you take that out of reggae, that’s a vital piece of this organ I’m talking about. Maybe that’s something the American reggae scene is, understandably so, drifting away from, because it’s a godless society, in a lot of ways. It’s the almighty dollar.

RF: That’s the true ruler.

KK: It really is. As we know, speaking of American history, that’s what this country is set up for, from day one.

RF: No doubt – a business.

KK: The most untaxed, free business you can do – that’s what it was for. People get kinda caught up with the very poetic Bill of Rights. But, I think that was just like – these guys were talking about their group. They realized they were onto a historical moment. The bottom line is, property, untaxed, and free business, at any expense.

RF: I appreciate that history and view of the music and cultures involved.

RF: How did Tribulations eventually lead to the JBB forms we all know?

KK: In 1993, I left Tribulations. Seven years after starting it, I left that group because it was getting too grunge – it was getting a little too rock-reggae, for me; I’m a roots man. 1970-’83… that’s kinda where my heart’s at with reggae, give or take a few years on either side. I left that group and started doing acoustic music – folk music. I started this group, actually it was a collective (Finger Clown Collective), that became John Brown’s Body.

Tommy started coming up from Boston. Lee Hamilton was there. It was a folk, kind of, collective. I had a standup bass player come up, do a few tunes. Tommy would join for a few tunes. It was very chill, you know? A cello player – maybe a flute player… I was writing a lot of songs, many, many songs. My dad died right around that time, and that was very cathartic. Man, I have 100 songs, at least, hundreds – maybe… 100+ songs just very quickly came to me, which, that doesn’t happen all the time. That was a blue period, as they say.

All Time and Among Them were written from this initial stage, and then the acoustic record that I did: I-Town Revival. There’s no reggae on it; it’s just like Americana, a soul/Americana kind of vibe. So, we were doing this folk collective, and from that, John Brown’s Body was born.

At the time, there was a local club in the town that we grew up in, Elliot and myself; it was called The Haunt – and Elliot was managing the place. We’d do shows there, and there was one song – “Can You Let her Go” was the song – and I’d be like, “Elliot – come up here and sing this with me!” Everyone would go crazy because it was like, “Oh! It’s the Tribulations again!” That was fun. I remember the first time I went in for soundcheck, and I said to Elliot, “Yo! Get up and sing with us tonight.” He was like, “Okay!” It was off to the races.

Elliot’s on All Time. He came in and sang some backups, but he wasn’t really “in” the band at that time. Then, it was the same with Among Them, but Elliot was coming around more and more, adding his godly gifts. Then, Among Them got signed to Shanachie Records. That’s kind of the timeline. Tribulations stopped in ’93. Finger Clown Collective was ’93-’95. John Brown’s Body started in ’95, 30 years ago.

RF: You were together for only a year and made All Time, but you all already had that history.

KK: Oh, yeah! Long time, history… coming out of Tribulations.

RF: I saw a Tribulations video recently. It was interesting to see you and Elliot up there.

KK: That footage you looked at, that’s the Yamaha soundcheck from ’92: Tribulations in LA. That was the pinnacle of that band, and you can hear what I’m talking about when I say, “rock/reggae.”

So, this story is really old. This story, it’s a life journey, which is cool.

RF: I know your longtime fans are excited to know that JBB is doing shows, under the JBB name. What’s the process for meeting new fans?

KK: It would be cool to reach new people. That’s part of putting out a new record – doing some shows with, God willing, some of these American reggae bands that are selling out amphitheaters and stadiums; that’s amazing, when I think about it. Had you come to me back in 1995 and been like, “This is what it looks like in 30 years,” you know? Thirty years is a long time. Even still, it seemed like a far shot that this music, reggae music, from an island in the Caribbean – the impact that it has had, especially in America. You could see that in Germany, or France, or England – it made a little more sense, just because of the initial response. America came to reggae later, I guess. That’s part of what we’re seeing.

I think beach culture has a lot to do with it. San Diego, and I’m speaking even prior to Slightly Stoopid, who are my friends – they’re very generous dudes – but, even prior to their existence, San Diego has always been a strong, reggae capital, in the U.S.

RF: I’m trying to remember a band right now – they did “Nancy Reagan.”

KK: Blue Riddim Band, from Kansas City – huge. That’s what I’m saying – they were such an anomaly.

I remember Tribulations, I think it was 1992 – we were on a compilation on ROIR Records, called Reggae USA, and the song we had on there was “Baby Don’t Cry,” which was a track off our record, The Gate… and, it’s interesting to note: ROIR Records, years later, was the label that we signed to as 10 Ft. Ganja Plant. The story there is, Lucas Cooper is the son of the guy who started ROIR Records, and he is the one who included us on this cassette: Reggae USA.

It was 1992, and to be honest, that probably was half the reggae bands in the US, on that cassette. There were 12 bands on the cassette, and of those 12 bands, I’d say nine of them were of Caribbean descent. A lot of the bands had maybe a lead singer who had immigrated to the US, from the Caribbean – turning people on to this music called reggae.

RF: What are your thoughts on foundation artists (the original reggae artists) opening for younger, American-born reggae bands instead of headlining?

KK: It makes me sad, but I would chalk that up to late stage capitalism. You can make a piece of art that is of godly nature, but if it doesn’t sell, and you don’t sell tickets, then… it comes down to ticket sales, is what I’m saying. Promoters used to listen to your music and be like, “Holy shit! That’s good! We’ll book these guys – they’re hot!” Nowadays, they just look at your numbers – your Spotify numbers and your ticket sales last time, and that’s it – game over.

RF: Speaking of foundation artists, Burning Spear is headlining a tour, and a lot of people are excited for that – thoughts on his history?

KK: He’s the most dignified guy ever. He’s a proud man – black pride – as it should be; he’s truly a disciple of Marcus Garvey. Through his own sheer creativity and hard work, he has become self-reliant; it’s all from him. Next to Bob Marley, there’s a list, but Burning Spear’s right up there. His Live in Paris record, late ‘80s… that is the template for Tribulations, and you can hear that in those LA clips. That was just a slap in the face, like, “Oh – this is how you do it.” And, John Brown’s Body – you can hear it. I definitely hear it in Elliot’s music. That reggae train – that reggae machine is just rolling. That’s part of Tommy’s gift too.

RF: What does the current tour process look like?

KK: We’re taking it slow. We’re letting the spirit lead us. It’s like, let’s do shows where people want to see us. For example, that Cabot Theater show – the ticket sales were there, and the demand was there; we’ll go there. I don’t think it’s eight dudes in a van, with pizza and beer, for the next 30 days.

RF: I can’t imagine the van life. I’ve seen a lot of tired bands crawl into a van, at the end of the day.

KK: It’s hard, bro. It’s a manic life. That’s a whole other thing about the capitalism factor, trying to make a business out of it. There are a lot of successful businesses out there, in the American reggae scene.

Again, this is not a judgement. This isn’t like, Kevin speaks for everybody, at all. For me, I do think about when agents and people say, “The music is secondary to the content. Content is more important, right now.” When I hear that, a little part of me dies inside. That’s just how I feel.

I’m not making some kind of righteous statement of judgement. I’m just sad for humanity – if we lose music, bro – I’ve always said, if there are aliens, the only reason they haven’t laser beamed us is because we have music. Maybe reggae music saved us… I don’t know. If there are higher beings out there, I don’t think our nuclear weapons are impressing them, or our diamond-studded jets.

RF: What does JBB mean to you? Maybe that’s too big of a question.

KK: I call it John Brown’s Body because I want to remember John Brown, the abolitionist. Naming the group after John Brown was like, speaking about being a disciple of Winston Rodney (Burning Spear), the celebration of history, reckoning with slavery – you must do it.

If you’re going to go into reggae music, you’ve got to not go around that. You can’t get high enough to go around it. You can’t get low enough to go around it. It’s too wide to go around. Naming the group, I was like, who is the only white guy who said something real about standing up against fucking slavery? That’s John Brown.

He gave his life. He’s a martyr. Nowadays, people are like, “white man savior complex,” but it doesn’t apply in that stage because he was really the only person doing that, putting his actual neck on the line, not just supporting it privately in a cigar room and maybe investing money. He died for it – he’s a martyr.

As a white guy, singing reggae, you have to be representative of some knowledge, some history, some reverence for Jamaica, Africa, Rastafari, just the whole diaspora. That’s really what reggae is the story of: the diaspora of Africa – the children of Israel.

John Brown’s Body Upcoming Tour Dates:

June 22: Ithaca Reggae Fest, Ithaca, NY

July 27: The Beachcomber, Wellfleet, MA

July 28: Bernie’s Beach Bar, Hampton, NH

August 25: Dry Diggins Music Festival, Auburn, CA