Jamaican Fish Escovitch and the Lawsuit Coming for Reggaeton
While some cultural fusions are delicious, a California courtroom is set to unravel a fiery copyright battle and issues of cultural appropriation in Latin America's lucrative genre.
Jah bless Jamaica for dancehall, modern cannabis culture, and fish escovitch (recipe after the jump). It’s a beloved Jamaican dish, known for its tangy and spicy flavor profile. It traditionally consists of fried fish topped with a marinated medley of pickled vegetables, scotch bonnet peppers, and spices. *Disclaimer, I like reggaeton and I listen to A LOT of it. But my heart will always belong to dancehall.
The history of fish escovitch dates back to the 16th century, blending Indigenous, African, and European culinary influences. The term escovitch derives from the Spanish word escabeche which refers to a method of pickling or marinating fish to preserve. While some cultural fusions offer a sweet, tangy, and spicy blend, others leave a bitter taste in your mouth.
The “Fish Market” Dancehall vs. Reggaeton Lawsuit
A major copyright case known as the Fish Market Lawsuit is unfolding in the music industry, with significant implications for the reggaeton genre. In May of 2024, a federal court in California decided to advance after attempts were made to dismiss the lawsuit involving over 160 defendants with well-known artists like Bad Bunny, Pitbull, Annita, J. Balvin, Daddy Yankee, Drake, and even that bro Justin Bieber. The Jamaican company Steely & Clevie Productions who produced the original Fish Market rhythm—unequivocally known as the blueprint for dancehall, dembow and reggaeton—has filed the lawsuit, accusing these defendants of copyright infringement by engaging in the unauthorized use of their instrumental percussion.
Steely & Clevie, the architects of dancehall were a legendary Jamaican dancehall reggae duo, who were a powerhouse of rhythm and innovation. Consisting of Wycliffe Johnson, known as “Steely”, and Cleveland Browne, or “Clevie”, their imprint on the genre is everlasting. They worked with a roster of artists, from the influential Specials and Gregory Peck to dancehall heavyweights like Bounty Killer, Elephant Man, and even No Doubt. Their journey kicked off in the 1970s, with Steely making his mark as a keyboardist for Sugar Minott's Youth Promotion collective, contributing to the seminal 1978 album “Ghetto-ology”. Clevie was a trailblazer, pioneering the integration of drum machines into reggae’s rich tapestry. Their paths first crossed at Lee “Scratch” Perry’s Black Ark Studios, setting the stage for a revolutionary partnership of one of my favorite genre’s of all time, dancehall reggae. This early “Duck Riddim” utilizes the same fundamental drum machine sequences that many of us can recognize in most reggaeton produced music.
By 1986, Steely & Clevie had become the cornerstone of late 80s reggae, serving as the house band at King Jammy's Studio—an epicenter. The duo further cemented their legacy by founding the Steely & Clevie label in 1987, coinciding with the rise of reggae “riddims” and the hip-hop dub productions emerging from the Bronx.
In 1993, Steely & Clevie took their talents beyond reggae, producing and co-writing tracks for Billy Ocean’s “Time to Move On” album, including the hit single “Pressure.” Their knack for blending genres and pushing musical boundaries ensured their place as pioneers of dancehall’s golden era.
Like Reggaeton, dancehall has often been viewed as a hypersexualized genre, drawing sharp criticism from the roots reggae community for what some saw as a departure from the genre’s more spiritually and socially conscious origins. Critics within the Rastafarian movement have sometimes labeled dancehall as a blemish on reggae culture, accusing it of undermining the genre's traditional values. Despite this backlash, dancehall has carved out a space that, while undeniably provocative, is also deeply sex-positive, offering a platform for open expression and celebration of sexuality. However, this vibrant space has not been without its complications, as it has also harbored intense homophobic undertones that contrast with its otherwise liberating ethos. To me, dancehall exists as a genre at the intersection of freedom and controversy, reflecting both its progressive and problematic energy.
Reggaeton, the genre that’s lit dance floors ablaze worldwide, has its roots firmly planted in Puerto Rico and Panama during the late 1990s. This musical movement emerged from a potent mix of Jamaican dancehall beats and Latin American rhythms, creating a sound that was as dynamic as it was innovative. Jamaican artists like Yellowman and Shabba Ranks, with their groundbreaking rhythms, laid the groundwork, but it was in Puerto Rico and Panama that this influence was transformed into something entirely new.
In Panama, artists like El General and Nando Boom were crucial in the genre’s early days, incorporating dancehall rhythms into rhythmically smooth Spanish-language lyrics. El General’s pioneering work in the early 1990s helped establish the foundation of what would evolve into reggaeton. Meanwhile, in Puerto Rico, local pioneers like DJ Playero and DJ Nelson crafted a genre-defining sound through mixtapes that combined Spanish lyrics with dancehall's infectious beats. Their work set the stage for reggaeton’s mainstream breakthrough.
The genre reached global prominence in the early 2000s thanks to stars like Daddy Yankee and Don Omar, whose chart-topping hits brought reggaeton’s electric rhythms and catchy hooks to an international audience. This rise is not just a musical evolution but a testament to the cross-cultural fusion that defines modern Latin urban music. It reflects how a blend of Caribbean influences, Panamanian innovation, and Puerto Rican creativity created a genre that resonates on a global scale, capturing the essence of a dynamic and ever-evolving musical landscape.
Do Reggaeton Artists Owe More Than a Token “Thank You”?
While prominent reggaeton artists have publicly acknowledged the influence of dancehall reggae on their music, the absence of formal financial recognition for Jamaican producers and their copyrighted work reveals a significant legal and ethical oversight. Reggaeton, which borrows heavily from the rhythms, styles, and cultural elements of dancehall reggae, has seen immense commercial success, yet the Jamaican creators who laid the groundwork have not been adequately compensated. This influence is evident not only in the music but also in fashion choices and highjacking of styles, such as dreads, du-rags, laid baby-hair edges, elaborate acrylic nails, and cornrows, as well as the wine-and-dagger dance styles that are iconically associated with the dancehall queen aesthetic. Despite these connections, the lack of cultural inclusion or financial recognition of dancehall's impact remains limited.
The explosive rise of reggaeton, Latin trap, Latin rap, and música urbana has propelled Latin music to unprecedented financial heights. In 2022, music sales revenue surged to $1.1 billion in the U.S., largely due to reggaeton, marking a striking 24% increase from the previous year. This surge highlights the genre’s immense financial and cultural appeal and its dominance over other music markets.
Legally, this situation mirrors longstanding patterns of cultural appropriation where the creators of influential artistic works are often left without fair remuneration. The Jamaican dancehall scene, which provided the foundational beats and cultural cues for reggaeton, has seen its innovations commodified on a global scale without corresponding financial acknowledgment. This raises crucial questions about intellectual property rights and fair compensation.
Under copyright law, creators have the right to benefit from their intellectual contributions. The significant influence of dancehall constitutes a clear case where these rights might be argued to extend to financial compensation. The fact that reggaeton has profited from dancehall’s distinctive rhythms and styles, without providing financial restitution to the original creators, underscores a legal and moral discrepancy.
Given the historical exploitation of Black culture and the legal framework designed to protect intellectual property, there is a compelling argument that reggaeton artists and the industry owe financial compensation to Jamaican producers and the people of Jamaica. This situation highlights a broader issue in the music industry, where the contributions of Black creators are often undercompensated, despite their profound impact on contemporary music.
While there hasn’t been a formal, official "thank you" from reggaeton artists or the industry as a whole, several prominent artists have openly recognized and credited dancehall reggae for its impact on their music. But is that enough? Is acknowledgment enough knowing what we know about the history of the commodification of black culture?
The Recipe—
There’s no account of whether or not the “Fish Market Riddim” was made at an actual fish market, presumable being an island country—a lot of folks probably have listened to the track while making or eating fish escovitch. I’ve adapted my recipe from, Deddy’s Kitchen, the certified chef & dad (cute) who offers the best pro tips for an authentic Jamaican-style preparation. In my recipe, I’ve added fresh garlic and ginger to the pickled vegetables to boost the gut microbiota and add a tangy bite to match the scotch bonnet peppers. Feel free to adjust the seasoning and vegetables to your preference and to what’s available to you. Either way, this recipe slaps.
yields: (3-6 servings) makes 2 whole fish
time: 45 mins
What you need:
Fish
2 whole red snapper or moro (a notable fish in the Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbean Sea) fish, gutted.
1 cup all-purpose, cassava or coconut flour
1 tablespoon cracked black pepper
1 tablespoon paprika or cayenne
1 tablespoon minced garlic, or garlic powder
1 tablespoon ginger powder
1 tablespoon coarse (adjust to taste)
1 tablespoon all-purpose seasoning *optional
Grapefruit seed or sunflower seed oil
Pickled escovitch veggies
1/2 cup vinegar (1/2 to clean fish)
1-2 tablespoons of oil from frying fish
1 teaspoon whole pimento, peppercorns
2 tablespoons raw cane sugar (optional)
1 medium onion, thinly sliced widthwise
1-2 large carrot, peeled and julienned
2 bell peppers (red and/or green), thinly sliced widthwise
2-3 Scotch bonnet peppers, thinly sliced (adjust to taste)
1-2 cloves garlic, sliced
2 one-inch pieces of ginger, peeled and sliced
1 tsp pimento (allspice) berries, whole
1 tsp thyme leaves (fresh or dried)
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp black pepper
1-2 tbsp of oil from fried fish, for sautéing
What to do:
With the gutted, scaled, and cleaned fish, do an additional quick “washing” of the fish with vinegar and lime (getting the insides, skin, and head. Pat it dry with paper towels or a tea towel you can wash it immediately.
Slice 3 parallel diagonal slits on each side of the fish (you can also ask to get this done at the market). Season the fish with a seasoning blend starting inside the fist, then add to the slits, and all over the skin and head of the fish.
Then cover with a thick layer of flour, shaking off the excess.
Heat oil in a large cast iron skillet over medium-high heat. Use a piece of excess flour to test if the oil is ready. It should bubble quickly when hot and ready for fish.
When the oil is hot, gently lower each dish on its side. Fry each side for about 5-7 minutes, or until golden brown and crispy.
Once done, remove the fish from the pan and drain on paper towels or a frying rack. Set aside.
Using the same fish frying oil, add two tablespoons into the pan and lightly sauté sliced garlic, ginger, onions, carrots, bell peppers, scotch bonnet, whole pimento peppers, and salt to taste. Cook for about 1 minute and then add the remaining vinegar.
Simmer for another 2 minutes until the vegetables are slightly tender.
Place the fried fish on a serving platter. Pour the hot escovitch pickling sauce and vegetables over the fish.
Serve immediately with rice, plantains, or more traditional sides like “bammy” (cassava flatbread) or rice and peas.
So true about about the calypso and soca connection! Thanks for reading ☺️
It would be interesting to see what comes of the lawsuit, but most importantly that folx learn of reggaeton’s origin and relationship to dancehall. I think about if the same will happen with the story of calypso to soca and where ever soca beats are taken.