I’ve attended two Sting occasions. One, the 1991 version, stands out as a legendary night time. The emergence of Buju Banton and the epic lyrical conflict between Ninja Man and Tremendous Cat created an unforgettable ambiance.
That night time, Wayne Surprise, mid-set, invited Buju Banton on stage, introducing him to the world. Buju’s highly effective voice, emanating from his lanky body, despatched shivers down my backbone. A star was born.
The Ninja Man vs. Tremendous Cat conflict, regardless of a minor bottle-throwing incident, was a spectacle. Ninja Man’s lyrical superiority was simple. His line, “Backup dih Hearse mek Mih put eeen dih useless,” successfully silenced Tremendous Cat. This conflict exemplified the true essence of a lyrical battle: uncooked expertise, spontaneity, and a wholesome dose of aggressive spirit.
Sting needs to be a platform for showcasing this type of lyrical prowess. It needs to be the “College of Dancehall,” the place aspiring artists hone their abilities, very similar to the clashes on sound programs up to now. As we speak’s DJs usually lack the spontaneity and lyrical dexterity of legends like Papa San, Ninja Man, Stitchie, Bounti Killa, and Beenie Man.
Sting wants to fix its relationships with these icons and different sidelined artists. That is essential for the occasion’s revival. Shortsightedness and animosity shouldn’t be allowed to kill this very important platform for the expansion of Dancehall.
Isiah Laing, and people accountable for Sting, have the facility to right the course. The chance to revive Sting to its former glory exists. Let’s not let it slip away.
By Warren Johnson
