Artist Profiles: Abdel Wright

With an incredible true-life story that rivals Jimmy Cliff’s fictional tale of Kingston gangsters in the classic reggae film Harder They Come, Abdel Wright has survived an upbringing in foster homes and five years in a Jamaican prison to create an entire album full of hope and redemption.

Wright’s own story is astonishing: put into government custody at the age of nine months, and moved from one orphanage to another until he ended up at the SOS Children’s Village in Montego Bay. The facility was founded by an Austrian soldier and funded in part by the legendary Johnny Cash, who owned a home nearby. Cash provided an early influence on the young Wright when he performed at a benefit concert at Rose Hall every Christmas for the students.

"All the kids, especially the musical ones, like me, were drawn to him. He played two mouth harps at once, which amazed me," Wright says of Cash.

At 12, Wright was given a guitar as a Christmas gift after a school superintendent spotted him eyeing it in the school’s office. He went on to teach himself the instrument-as well as piano and flute-by stealing in order to afford the instruction books. At the age of 18, he began to write songs.

Kicked out of the Village, Wright began committing crimes to support himself. Caught with a firearm, he was sentenced to eight years in jail. A policeman on the scene saved Wright’s life by refusing to allow the arresting officer to shoot him after discovering the gun. When the same cop ran into Wright years later after seeing him perform on TV, he told Wright it was the right decision: ‘"Now I know why I gave you a chance. You are here for a purpose,’ he told me."

"I was really involved with some bad company back then," says Wright. "Thinking that my gun was the only way to make a living."

In his cell, he wrote several songs, including "Quicksand" and "Ruffest Times," the latter a prayer of thanks for being allowed to survive his ordeal ("Jan will never give you more than you can bear"). It begins with the sound of fingers plucking guitar strings, recalling "Fast Car" by Tracy Chapman, admittedly one of his favorites.

Wright made the most of his prison stay ("It can be heaven or hell-it’s up to you," he says) by giving music lessons to the other inmates and leading the prison band. He earned enough trust to be allowed to teach and play music every day. While jailed, Wright also learned sign language and taught it to fellow prisoners, giving him a skill to put to use when he was ultimately released after serving a reduced sentence of five years.

Emerging from behind bars, Wright played tirelessly on the island’s club scene, doing countless karaoke shows while also performing his own songs and developing a following. "I was turned down for a recording contract by every leading producer in Jamaica," he says, supplementing his meager earnings by teaching guitar to aspiring musicians for $150 per hour, Jamaican (The equivalent of $2 U.S.).

With just $200 Jamaican in his pocket and practically homeless, Wright had a chance meeting with producer Brian Jobson, which led to Eurythmics founder Dave Stewart agreeing to executive-produce the album. Stewart then turned his buddy Bono on to Wright’s music, and the two invited Wright to perform with them at the 46664 Event, the Nelson Mandela AIDS concert, held in November 2003, in Cape Town, South Africa.

The all-star benefit, which also featured Beyonce, Peter Gabriel, The Corrs, Ladysmith Black Mambazo, Bob Geldof, the Eurythmics, Johnny Clegg and Queen, was hosted by Nelson Mandela (and named after the number he wore in prison) to raise global awareness in the fight against AIDS. Wright performed an emotional "Loose We Now," which had many of the more than 40,000 fans holding their lighters aloft in tribute. Wright also was brought on-stage by Bono, joining The Edge, Dave Stewart and Youssou N’Dour to add a solo toast to "Long Walk to Freedom," the last song written by the Clash’s Joe Strummer before he died. The song appears on the soundtrack and DVD of the event and a studio version was recorded for an upcoming album project.

"When I first met Bono, I said, ‘Nice to meet you, big man,’" says Wright. "And he answered me, ‘No, you’re the big man. An angel brought you here to me.’ Growing up with all these rock stars, then meeting, playing and singing with them, was unbelievable, a dream come true."

After the Mandela AIDS benefit, Wright returned to Jamaica and entered an Ocho Rios studio to finish recording his debut album with Jobson, which Stewart and Bono then played for Interscope chief Jimmy Lovine, who immediately agreed to release the record.

With an acoustic guitar and a song-based approach, Wright flies in the face of reggae’s current dancehall fascination and hip-hop obsession with sex, drugs and materialism. In politically-charged songs like "Quicksand," "Human Behavior," "Loose We Now" and "Dust Under Carpet," Wright sings about relevant global issues: government oppression, the high cost of health care, the lack of suitable housing and education, poverty and the hypocrisy of the political and religious establishments.

"Quicksand," with its checklist of society’s ills, "Human Behavior," featuring a twangy pedal steel guitar and harp, and the Dylan-styled protest anthem "Loose We Now" are steeped in Jamaica’s traditional political unrest, though the themes are broad enough to provide a global message. "Paul Bogle" tells of an actual 19th century historical martyr who is a Jamaican national hero, hanged by the British for his outspoken criticism of the government. Wright invokes a soaring falsetto and a poignant violin while Babylon bums in "Dust Under Carpet," aiming his ire at hypocritical politicians who are "clean on the outside… dirty on the inside."

"The themes are worldwide, even though it all starts with Jamaican culture," explains Wright. "But it applies everywhere there are police forces using violence to keep society in shackles. There are people with an inability to pay the rent, living in the gutter, every where… even in America, one of the richest countries in the world."

In addition to its political charge, Wright’s debut is also autobiographical. In "Issues," he sings about his troubled upbringing, noting his decision to spend the few dollars he had left at one point on strings for his guitar even though he was practically starving. "My Decision" is a playful tune about "searching the whole, wide world.. .for a good girl."

"I don’t care how much times I have to fly, but you have to maintain the roots," he says about commuting to America for his career. "Because it’s from those roots that the songs come… from my personal suffering, my experiences on the island. I want to keep as many roots as possible."

"People are tired of listening to priests, prime ministers and politicians," he says of the musician’s role in bringing attention to society’s ills. "Music can have a great effect. If we use our credibility and spread our message, it can be accepted by a lot of people. We can be the answer, which is why we need to make sure what we’re inputting to people can make a positive change."

"I want to play my music for people everywhere," he says. "Send me to Greenland with the Eskimos in their igloos, and I’ll play for them. I want to keep spreading the word until I drop dead."