In high school I had a friend, two years older than me, who had Judah’s Lion tattooed on his arm. In D.C. that meant Bad Brains and to me it was cooler than cool. Never mind he was a star soccer player, had a hot girlfriend, and drove a brand new Mazda MX-6.… Read More
“Oooooh Reggae? That’s fun! My girlfriends and I went to Jamaica. We were naughty!”
“Ooheaa?” I muttered.
Her hands plunged deeper into my mouth, a streak of saliva slipping out the side.
“Oh yeah! They told us not to leave the resort but we did.… Read More
A Nigerian political dissident working in Austria. A Jewish bike messenger from Long Island. A fashion designer in Manhattan who grew up in a Durban township. A writer from an apple farm in Western Massachusetts. An Oglala Lakota painter raised on the Rez in South Dakota.… Read More
New Kingston’s fresh new single “Honorable” turns everything you know about the band upside down.
The song is like graduation day. Picture hundreds of students and their families sprawled out on the campus lawn. There’s a high that ripples through the crowd, a sense of accomplishment, yeah, but also of abstract anticipation.… Read More
Welcome to the first chapter of Rootfire’s new era. Issue #1 celebrates three articles released this week that speak on some fresh ideas in progressive reggae; think of it as a zine delivered to your inbox. The layout, revamped sections, and new contributors come to you live and direct just 7 days since you got my note about Rootfire’s rebirth as an online community.… Read More
My roommate still had a dumb grin on his face and said he didn’t want it, he was just kidding and thought I was just kidding. I said I wasn’t kidding and he had to eat it because I ate mine and I wasn’t going it alone, which was a mistake. You’re always going it alone. Anyhow, he said he was drunk when I arrived and was just goofing around but he would do it since he said he would, and I was sort of miffed so I went back and killed time with the acid man at the bar and the girls he was hanging out with until I started to feel it happen, and then I went back to find my friend.
I was purchased my first shot of absinthe on Bourbon St. I typically like to have these experiences in authentic locations, but since I wasn’t touring Holland anytime soon, I decided that New Orleans was just as psychedelic a spot as any. … Read More
This is an introduction. For I and you. I first met Seth Herman in a building called the Pink Warehouse, which houses the Rootfire office, and our friendship is the true result of good ingredients: soccer, music, and writing. When I moved to Charlottesville to run a newspaper, I asked a musician if he knew any soccer teams around.… Read More