Uncover the origins of early dancehall music and the debate around what counts as the “first” track in the genre. This in-depth analysis explores Kingston’s late 1970s sound-system culture, key producers, pioneering artists, and the transition from roots reggae to dancehall.
Every Jamaican genre emerges from the crossroads of social history, street culture, and sonic innovation. Ska burst from the optimism of independence in the 1960s, rocksteady followed with a smoother pulse, and reggae grew as a vessel of Rastafarian consciousness. By the late 1970s, however, Jamaica’s streets were restless, its dance halls booming, and its youth searching for a sound that resonated with their lived realities. Out of this ferment came dancehall, a genre that would redefine Jamaican music for decades to come.
But with every musical birth comes a question of origins. What should be considered the first early dancehall track? Was it a specific deejay’s toast on a stripped-down riddim? A Barrington Levy cut produced by Henry “Junjo” Lawes? Or does the title belong to Wayne Smith’s Under Mi Sleng Teng (1985), the track that ushered in digital dancehall?
The answer is far from simple. This article traces the genealogy of early dancehall, examining the late 1970s and early 1980s Kingston scene to understand why no single “first track” exists, and why the genre itself is the result of overlapping cultural and sonic shifts.
The debate over the “first” early dancehall track is really a debate about definition. Dancehall was not born fully formed with one song, but gradually emerged in the late 1970s through sound-system culture and studio recordings that reflected what was already happening live.
Therefore, the “first” early dancehall track is best understood not as a single song but as a cluster of recordings that reflected Kingston’s shifting cultural atmosphere between 1978 and 1981.
The 1970s were a period of intense political violence and economic decline in Jamaica. Youth from Kingston’s working-class communities gathered around sound systems as both entertainment and survival. Unlike roots reggae, which often looked outward to the international market with messages of unity and Rastafari, dancehall became hyper-local, focused on the dance itself and the immediate realities of Jamaican life (Hope, 2006).
Dancehall takes its name directly from dance halls — the physical venues where music was played. The sound system was the incubator: selectors played dub versions of popular songs, and deejays toasted over the instrumentals. This live practice began shaping a distinct aesthetic long before it appeared on records.
Roots reggae emphasized the song: verses, choruses, harmonies. Dancehall shifted the focus to the riddim — the instrumental backbone that could be endlessly versioned. This modular approach enabled new creativity and constant reinvention.
Barrington Levy, still a teenager in 1979, became one of the first major recording artists of dancehall. Working with producer Henry “Junjo” Lawes and backed by the Roots Radics band, Levy’s tracks like Collie Weed and Bounty Hunter set the tone for what early dancehall would sound like (Manuel & Marshall, 2006).
Many historians argue that Levy + Junjo + Roots Radics = the first crystallization of recorded dancehall.
Another contender for the title of “first” is General Echo, whose deejay style was filled with humor, sexual innuendo, and everyday storytelling. Echo’s 1979 album 12 Inches of Pleasure is often cited as the first recorded articulation of slackness in Jamaican music (Cooper, 2004).
Behind the scenes were the engineers who made dancehall sonically possible. King Tubby, Scientist, and Prince/King Jammy took the tools of dub — reverb, echo, delay — and sculpted the riddims that defined the early era (Veal, 2007).
Without dub engineers, there would have been no riddim culture, and therefore no dancehall.
When discussing the “first dancehall track,” Under Mi Sleng Teng inevitably enters the conversation. Released in 1985, produced by King Jammy, and voiced by Wayne Smith, it was the first fully computerized riddim in Jamaican music (Bradley, 2000).
Unlike reggae, which had clearer birth markers (Toots Hibbert’s Do the Reggay), dancehall emerged gradually from live performance practice. By the time recordings reflected it, the sound was already established.
Each is “first” in a different sense.
For many Jamaicans, the “first” is less important than the energy of the dance hall itself. Dancehall is a communal practice, and its authenticity lies in live interaction, not in pinpointing a single record.
So what is considered the first early dancehall track? The truth is that no single record can hold that title. Dancehall was born in Kingston’s sound systems, nurtured by deejays like General Echo, voiced by singers like Barrington Levy, and shaped by producers and engineers like Junjo Lawes, Scientist, and King Tubby. By 1979–1981, early dancehall had crystallized as a distinct genre, even if its official “first” remains contested.
If one must choose:
Each is a foundational milestone, and together they chart the path from reggae’s roots to dancehall’s rise.