1982: One Two, Sister Nancy

By Frederica Solomon

Sister Nancy sounds like Sunday mornings.

My mother would not-so-gently jostle me out of bed to begin the most important of rituals. She filled the house with the sweet sounds of reggae, soca, and band dance while assigning cleaning duties. Weaved through the characteristic offbeat downstrokes of the guitar, my mom told stories of being the only girl breakdancing, drumming, and riding motorcycles.

My mother grew up forty miles off the coast of Honduras on the largest of the bay islands, Roatán (pronounced Rattan by the locals). Among the traditional rules and roles expected of women and men in Caribbean society, my mom grew up doing what she was not supposed to do. Despite scoldings and ass whoopings, the curiosity to venture outside of perceived gender roles, to do as her brothers did, was too much for her to ignore. “Original! Originality!” The words echo through the air on a warm spring evening in Brooklyn as Sister Nancy graces the stage at Public Records. With every song in her hour-and-a-half set, she punctuates the atmosphere with this powerful refrain. It is nearly forty-one years since her debut album and she hasn’t lost her touch. The room is packed, the air is hot, and the crowd sways to every skit and every skat. How lucky are we to witness a pioneer in her rightful place?

Sister Nancy sounds like my mother’s musings.

In the vibrant 1970s, Brigadier Jerry emerged on the Jamaican music scene, captivating audiences as a member of the Twelve Tribes of Israel and their renowned Jah Love Soundsystem. His magnetic presence as a deejay quickly propelled him to become one of Jamaica’s most sought-after performers, earning him the The General; Soon his baby sister took notice. In 1976, she dove headfirst into the music world, cutting her teeth by performing alongside Brigadier and with the Chalice and Blackstar legendary Soundsystems. She found her own path into the world of music and emerged as the first woman deejay in Jamaica. As a stable deejay at Stereophonic, Sister Nancy connected with titans of the Jamaican music scene and began to do voice recordings at Winston Riley’s Techniques Records. With Riley, she recorded her first big song, “One Two”, which led her to record her first and only album.

The year is 1982 and Sister Nancy dropped her debut album. Unbridled confidence revibrates through One Two and seeps into every song. Song after song serves as an unapologetic announcement to the world as Jamaica’s first woman deejay. This is a fact that Sister Nancy sings about with pride. In “Ain’t No Stopping Nancy” she reminds us that she is not new to this, but true to this (“coz ah’ve been DJing fram ah was 15 years old”). There is an assuredness, not an arrogance, that accompanies the pride oozing from this album. Something that comes when you know that you are who you say you are.

In “Bam Bam,” over the iconic horns, Sister Nancy addresses the doubters “Wha mek dem a taak bout mi ambition? Seh, what makes dem a taak bout mi ambition?” Singing in the unmistakable Jamaican style, singjay, she creates an audacious track that cements her status as a pioneer and cultural figure. The call-and-response structure of the song invites listeners to become a part of the song’s performance. Instantly, we are in a dialogue about a woman that entered a world that was not made for her, and making damn good music while doing it. Sister Nancy’s biggest hit invited millions to join in the contagious Shalag rhythm but her contributions became lost in translation.

Sister Nancy sounds like butting heads and coming back together.

Outside of Jamaica, which was more partial to “One Two,” “Bam Bam” became an international hit. This iconic track has been sampled countless times and it is the go-to choice for hip hop artists seeking to capture that distinctive Jamaican flair and Caribbean vibe. Despite the impact of the song, Sister Nancy didn’t receive recognition in the States for the song until it was featured in the 1998 movie, “Belly”. By chance, Sister Nancy discovered this while flipping channels and seeing the movie on HBO. Too often, the creations of Black Women are elevated and lauded without consideration for the creator.

Sixteen years later in February 2014, Rebook launched a commercial with those all too familiar horns and Sister Nancy’s voice blares as Miranda Kerr heads to the shower, wearing her Reeboks. Again, she is faced with those with the audacity of those who take without acknowledging the source. However, this time was different. Sister Nancy sued. She now owns 50% of “One Two” along with Westbury Music in England. The significance of her victory extended far beyond the commercial, it served as a reminder for artists to assert their worth and protect their art.

In 2017, Jay-Z and Damian Marley sampled “Bam Bam” for their song “Bam.” Sister Nancy’s appearance in the music video marked the first time she would be honored alongside her music. This would not be the first time Sister Nancy’s song would be sampled, but it would be one of the first times she was honored alongside her most famous song.

On that unforgettable night at Public Records, Sister Nancy introduces “Bam, Bam” as the horns begin to play: “I will tell you the history of this song. It has been used, it has been abused, but it has never been refused. I’ve done this song for a long time, since 1982, and I didn’t get anything until 2014. But you know what? God is Good and he’s great and I really appreciate it. Run it!”

And how lucky was I to bear witness to this reclamation?