Where: Florida/Los Angeles (by phone)
When: February 16, 2026
Reporter: Stephen Cooper
Photos: Courtesy of the respective record companies (labels/sleeves)
Copyright:  2026 – Stephen Cooper

PABLOVE BLACK: “I ALWAYS HAVE AFRICA ON MY MIND.” (THE INTERVIEW, PART 2)

In Part 1 of my February interview of legendary Jamaican reggae musician Pablove Black, also known as Paul Dixon—published by Reggae-Vibes on March 4—many fascinating subjects were explored, including but not limited to: Black’s early life and experiences with music, how Black became a musical coordinator at Coxsone Dodd’s famous Studio One in Jamaica, Black’s membership in The Twelve Tribes of Israel, and, how Black played and sang background vocals on many massive-hit tunes by legendary singers.

In this Part 2 installment of our irie reasoning, Black and I discuss how Black recorded and toured with the legendary singer Jimmy Cliff, Black’s association with Bob Marley, the differences between recording at Studio One versus at Lee “Scratch” Perry’s Black Ark, Black’s second solo album “Charcoal Charlie,” his involvement with the “Orthodox” music label, his recent musical works, plans for the future, and more.

What follows is a transcript of roughly the last 45 minutes of the interview modified only slightly for clarity and space considerations; to be specific: this roughly 6,250-word conversation is Part 2 of my irie and historic reasoning with Pablove Black. At the end, please also find a link to the audio file of Part 2 of the interview—available on YouTube.

Now I mentioned the icon Jimmy Cliff who you toured and recorded with, played keyboards with, and of course, you likely did some background singing [for] too. And unfortunately, you know—everybody in the reggae world knows—that we lost Jimmy Cliff. He passed away unfortunately at the end of last year—in November.
Rest his soul.

Yeah. Can you tell me about how you first connected with Jimmy Cliff and how you eventually start[ed] to play with him?
Well it’s as I tell you, everything worked back to [legendary bass player] Bagga [Walker], you know? Bagga and [legendary songwriter, producer, and musician] [Anthony] “Sangie” [Davis] dem was in [the classic movie about the Jamaican music industry staring Jimmy Cliff called] “The Harder They Come.”

Ah. The movie, yeah. Nice.
Yes. They did the auditions in the opening part of the movie. So when [Jimmy Cliff] came back from England now, we went to Channel One [Studio] to do the album “Follow My Mind.” So through that now, he want[ed] to carry Bagga on tour and Bagga say, “Well, we don’t want to leave Pablo, you know, because Pablo is a vital man.”

Nice.
And through negotiations now, me, him, [Uzziah] “Sticky” [Thompson], Sly [Dunbar], Ranchie [McLean]—and Joe Higgs came up because me and Joe Higgs sing harmony upon that, too.

*Editorial Note: Pablove later mentioned that one of the musicians he left out here was Phillip Robinson.

Nice. Wow. What a collection of legends traveling together. I imagine that was a fond memory. What’s one of your fondest memories of touring with Jimmy Cliff?
Oh gosh, man, there’s so many. When we leave Jamaica and we go to Massey Hall, Toronto. And leave from there and went to [the] Beacon Theatre [in] New York. And the funny thing about it is, the other day, me and Sly [Dunbar] went to this place called Armadillo World Headquarters in Austin, Texas. And we meet some youth down there where—Texas but they love Jamaica too where they can talk a likkle patois, too, you know?

Yup (Laughing).
Yeah man. Nice men. And dem sit down with dem Red Stripe and stuff. But what happened is that place was under tight security [that] night because somebody shoot the gate man the night before.

Wow. Wow. Wow. That’s a bit scary.
Yes. So it was the first touch we get of that kind of [violence]. So all the while Sly [would] remind me—every time he sees me he [would] remind me of that, too. (Laughing)

When was the last time you saw Jimmy Cliff?
[It’s been] awhile now. Probably about twelve years ago.

Pablove, since [we’re] talking about [a] reggae icon who has passed, I would be remiss if I didn’t [also] ask you about your relationship with Bob Marley—who recently celebrated his 81st earthstrong. When and how did you first meet and become friends with Bob Marley?
Well, I wouldn’t say me and him [was] friends.

Ah?
Yeah. Dem people—they never have no friends—when me check dem over. The three of dem was three boasty boys, you know? When I know Bob Marley and dem, they was flagg brothers—shoes and terylene and whole pants and—you know? Prestige kinda people.

Yeah.
But now they had left Studio One and mi and Bagga [were] working at Studio One. So dem always said we [are] “Downbeat’s puppets.”

Bob was a good foot-baller, too, right?
Yeah, he loved it. Let me tell you, you see football and table tennis? They’re supposed to have a football field and a table tennis auditorium in Bob Marley’s name.

Yeah. Yeah. I agree.
‘Cause him love table tennis because of the reflexes.

Yeah, yeah. You have to be quick.
Alright. Let me tell you now—I’m gonna give you a likkle thing. Most people don’t remember dem things, you know? They [were] playing football at the stadium [and] we decide to go down there one night. And it [was] like maybe 15 of us—inna couple of cars. And dem times there [the car was supposed to hold five but nine of us in it.] So we go and when we go to the gate man now and he see Bob, he say “Oh.” He know he gonna get some money so he letting in people free until it’s like double the amount of people. (Laughing)

(Laughing) Wow.
We pass him and gone. And he looked around now and he don’t see Bob. So he’s not enjoying the football match; he’s thinking about Bob has him money and stuff. And when the game is over, Bob pass him—and he’s still cursing Bob Marley, you know? And Bob just palm him a handful of money.

Wow. Yeah.
Him was like that kind of person, you know?

Yup.
[He had] a joker attitude but it’s a testing thing, you know? (Laughing)

Yeah, yeah. Did you—I wasn’t sure—and I wanted to make sure I asked you, Pablove: Did you ever play on any Bob Marley songs?
Yeah man. A-we carry Bob to [to Cane River Falls—which is a waterfall in Saint Thomas, and also, we took him to another little cove named “Laughing Water” in Saint Ann’s—near Dunn’s River Falls.] I’m gonna tell you. I played on songs for him for Sangie.

Can you tell us what songs?
One named “Jingling Keys.” One named “Babylon Feel Dis One.”

Oh!
Ilawi—Ilawi—from Jah Love—played drums on that.

Yeah, Albert Malawi from the Jah Love sound [system]—
I did “Jingling Keys,” “Babylon Feel Dis One,” and “She Used to Call Me Dada.”

I don’t know “Jingling Keys,” but I know “Babylon Feel Dis One” and I know “She Used to Call Me Dada.” Both are beautiful.
Alright now—I’m gonna tell you now—when you send me—I made some notes with my firsts. The first I-Threes song was a [cover of an American song by the Bee Gees]—a tune named “To Love Somebody.” We recorded that for Bob and Bunny dem in Harry J’s studio—the same night we laid the riddim for “Children Playing in the Street” for The Melody Makers.

Wow. With Ziggy. Yeah. Nice.
I played piano on that, too.

Nice. Nice. Wow.
The first Yellowman. The first Eek-A-Mouse. We did “Curly Locks” with Junior Byles. We did “Girlie Girlie” with Sophia George.

That “Curly Locks” with Junior Byles—that was done at the Black Ark [studio], wasn’t it, with Lee Scratch Perry?
Yes.

Nice. That’s a very interesting way of describing that.
Yeah man. You see, okay, when we did [Judah] Eskender [Tafari]?

Yeah?
Downbeat’s playing it back, playing it back—and [then] him say “It’s short of something, it’s short of something.” [And] he’d go home and dream about it and decide that he want a sax man. So he would return to get a sax man, and we can’t find a sax man. We couldn’t find [Felix] “Deadly Headley” [Bennett], Herman Marquis—all of dem people inna town were at Idler’s Rest. We can’t see nobody. So dem start inquiring now and dem say—we find out that there’s this man, [Ruben Alexander] who play [tenor sax] with Lennie Hibbert—he’s a xylophonist. But he’s on the other side of the island.

That’s a far drive.
So Downbeat sent a mini-bus man for him! (Laughing)

(Laughing) And went and picked him up?
Yes. And pay him like him doing a full trip. [And] Downbeat have to pay him.

(Laughing) Well, it was probably worth it.
The man come and listen to the tune and take one cut!

Wow.
And when he finish[ed] Downbeat say, “Take one more for me. This one good, you know? But take one more for me.” Downbeat tell me seh that it was the first cut he used.

As they say, “The first cut is sometimes the best.”
Yeah man.

Now Pablove, I have to ask a little bit about this thing that I read in fellow reggae historian Roger Steffens’s book about Bob Marley. He has a couple of books about Bob Marley, but [in] his last book about Bob Marley he had some information from you. Because I think—maybe it was almost thirty years ago—you visited Roger Steffens’s house in Los Angeles and spoke to him.
Yeah man.

And one of the things that you told Roger—Roger had asked you about things that had happened right before and after Bob Marley was shot—before [Bob] performed at that historic “Smile Jamaica” concert. And one of the things that you told Roger that I thought was very interesting was that the [founder and leader of the Twelve Tribes of Israel mansion of Rastafari, the] Prophet Gad, came and talked to Bob after he was shot. And [he] told Bob that the Twelve Tribes [members] would support Bob’s decision no matter what he did—whether he chose to perform or not perform. Is that true?
Yeah. That’s true. Yes, because when the shooting gwan everybody scatter[ed], you know? [Bob] couldn’t even find his band members. So true wi and him was close at that time there now. [And] we end up at Strawberry Hill with him. And dem trying to decide whether dem was to do the show—whether it’s still safe or what. So we send for Brother Gad.

Yeah. What did you personally think that Bob should do? Did you think he should [have] play[ed] or not play[ed]?
No—well I knew him would have to. Because him caught between the two sides, you know? And tings—him could not solve it.

Did you also perform with Bob at that “Smile Jamaica” concert? Did you play too?
No. Because I’m gonna tell you, they tried to get me involved and it was too close to the elections. And I say I’m not taking no part. Because I was working with [the] Twelve Tribe Band, Generation Gap, and Advocates. Now Generation Gap, just like any other band, would want to be [on] the same billboard with Bob Marley. So everybody want[ed] it to happen. But I saying it’s too close—because I work[ed] for politicians, you know? But six-seven months before [the] elections? I don’t join no bandwagon.

Yeah, that makes sense.
I’m careful like that because my mom advised me that I used to worry every election. Because people—neighbors dying.

Wow.
You know? And dem know each other for how much years? Killing each other. So I used to—I frown on the political system! And [my mom would] always say to me that “It’s like religion. It’s private.” So mi say, “What you mean?” And explaining it to me, she used to tell me that not even her husband can ask her who did she vote for.

Yeah. I understand that. That makes a lot of sense.
So true that now—I work[ed] for Michael Manley. And I worked for Seaga. But now anytime election coming up I’d stay far [away].

—on his Tamoki-Wambesi label. Can you tell me, Pablove, a little bit about the making of that album, including how did you hook up with Roy Cousins, and also, how long were you in the U.K. for? Did you live there for a period of time in order to make the album? Or were you just there for a little while?
Well what happened is, me know Roy Cousins through this guy who used to live up inna London—Mojo! Mojo [from Harlesden, England, who] was a producer for Atlantic [Records]. So him introducing reggae to the big [music] labels. And Cousins know him. And him make the link with Prince Lincoln [Thompson] from Royal Rasses.

Ah. I see.
So when we go back up there now, we was doing recordings for Lloydie Coxsone. And Lloydie Coxsone bring in our boy there, “Mr. Fix It.”

Ah, Winston Francis?
Yes, Winston. Because when he bring him now they don’t realize seh how long I’d been admiring this bredda there, you know? (Laughing) Because part of my patter—part of my permanent repertoire is [Winston Francis’s song] “Mr. Fix It.”

Yeah, you know, I’m gonna ask you about “Mr. Fix It.” But hold onto that thought [about] “Mr. Fix It” for a second because I want to focus on “Charcoal Charlie.” And let me make sure I understand first: Were you living in London or did you just stay there for a while in order to make that album?
Oh well, I’m gonna tell you. We were running a problem up there and we had to stay up there about five months. And it was good for me, too, because I had tooth problems and I got my mouth fixed up there.

In London?
Yes, in London. Lloydie Coxsone carried me personally and—Battersea [in southwest London] we went.

I see, yeah. So you were there for five months and you got some dental work done.
Yeah, [I was living] at a place named Stockwell.

And then you also made this album “Charcoal Charlie” at the Easy Street Studio at the same time, too?
Yes. Because Roy Cousins have the connection[s], you know?

Yeah. Now one of the first things to highlight about that album, “Charcoal Charlie,” is I think you play all the instruments on that album—like a one-man band kind-of-thing. True?
Yeah.

It’s amazing because when you listen to that album and realize that you’re playing every single instrument—it could really blow your mind.
Well it’s so funny, you know? I didn’t expect them to put out that album how it was.

Really? Why?
That’s nine hours [of] work.

That’s it!? That’s all!?
Yes. But because Roy Cousins now—because I have him as the singer for “Pick Up the Pieces”—because remember I have a [version of The Royals’s] “Pick Up the Pieces” named “Inner Peace,” you know?

Right.
That is [on the] “Pick Up the Pieces” riddim. So I do the tracks now and leave [them for Cousins] to do the harmonies and stuff, and he just mixed it and put it out the same way. (Laughing)

(Laughing) So you didn’t know it was gonna come out like that?
So I’m doing them over because “Hi Jack South Africa” is a chorus song.

I love that song “Hi Jack South Africa.” Or you could say “Sky Jack South Africa” [as the lyrics of the song go].
Yeah.

“And release Nelson Mandela.” It’s really, really a cool song. And I was gonna say that it’s interesting because the song has a lot of—as you would expect from having listened to your first solo album—you would expect that there’s a lot of tunes with addictive and mellow instrumentals that are on the album. And there are—there are songs like “Simple Simon,” “Easy Street Rock,” and then of course the title track “Charcoal Charlie.” But then there also some very fierce percussion tracks, like “Sunday Lunch” and “112 Elmer Gardens.” But what’s really interesting to me on the album is that there are a number of tunes where you sing also. And some of them—two of them in particular—are very politically charged including “Hi Jack South Africa.”
Yes.

Because you sing: “All over the world, man and woman, boy and girl, rise up in resistance and fight, fight, fight.”
Yes.

“Don’t let no one tell you what is your destiny.”
Yeah.

I love those two songs. Those two songs are so cool. They’re very fierce songs. And I know it’s not the first time that you have spoken out in music about injustice in Africa. Because I know that you also—I believe that you played on Hugh Mundell’s “Africa Must Be Free by 1983.” True?
I played on most of that album. Me and Augustus Pablo. Because I have a youth named “Latty”—[Latty Guzang who worked for the Jamaica Information Service]—he was the one who bring [me and Augustus] together. But you know, there’s some inconsistency, because I never played on “Satta Massagana.”

Yeah—I was confused about that. Because I asked you before [today’s] interview about that. You did play on a number of songs by The Abyssinians, but not on Satta Massagana?
Yes, because that was in ’68 and I wasn’t recording dem times there.

Okay, well I’m glad we clarified that. I want to ask you about one or two other singles, but before we leave that album “Charcoal Charlie” there’s two [more] questions I want to ask about that. On the cover of that album you’re wearing a Rasta-colored shirt [and] you’re bending over at the waist—and you’re smiling. And you’re behind a car. And the trunk is open. And your hand is underneath the car’s insignia which says “Roland.” What’s the story behind that album cover?
You know, that was what’s his name—Marshall—

Larry Marshall?
No, not Larry Marshall. [Jim] Marshall up inna California—where him and Roger Steffens moved, you know?

Oh! I do know how you’re talking about.
He is the photographer who took those photos.

Oh?
I was loading the keyboards [into the trunk] to do some work at a place named Kingston 12 in L.A.

Ah. Ah. So that’s how that photo got taken. Now the first track on that album is very interesting to me, too; you sing on that track as well; the song “Cool Meditation.”
Yeah.

It’s interesting [and] I’m curious about that song because—[to] mention the lyrics—you [sing] “You say ‘yes’ when I say ‘no,’ you say ‘less’ when I say ‘more.’ You want to stay, I want to go, what you gonna do I’ll never know.”
Yeah.

And then it continues and it’s interesting because it sounds like you’re having a conversation with your lady.
Yes. Well what happened is—I’m gonna tell you: That song was written—me and Michael Stone write that song. Michael Stone had a reggae rockers thing in Wisconsin.

Nice.
And eventually he changed it to—him have about three different names. “Black Stone.” “Stone Black.” “Foundation.” And every winter I used to come up and spend a couple of weeks with him or a month, and we write songs together. So I write that song (singing) “Tonight I’m coming home to you” for a Freddie McGregor song.

*Editorial note: Pablove clarified after the interview that the Freddie McGregor song he is referring to here is called “I’m Coming Home.”

Cool. Now there’s an account on social media that’s very into reggae history—and this particular account is called “House of Reggae.” And this person asked me to ask you about your involvement, Pablove, with the record label called “Orthodox.” And the person added “There are some great tunes on that label where you are credited as quote ‘arranged by.’” And then [House of Reggae] sent an example which I sent on to you before today—just to take a look at—[and] the example was a link on YouTube to a very cool track by Ewan Naptali called “Africa Awaiting Its Creators.”
Yeah.

Wow. Yeah.
Me, Bagga, Sowell—[and] not sure if Horsey or Benbow play drums on it. So the guy put it out with that label now.

Yeah. “Orthodox.”
Yes. So because we were the musicians who play[ed] on it, we get the blame. ‘Cause he’s saying “12 Tribes Band? Where is the band?” Because that’s Brother Gad, you know? Brother Gad took me down, you know, and say “We can’t be printing these things and there’s no band.” And mi say, “But we have enough musicians in the house right now for two bands.” So mi have to put my steel band on pause now. I spent all the time putting this band together.

I see. Was the Orthodox label then—did it have an association with the Twelve Tribes?
Yes! It’s we.

It is the Twelve Tribes’s band?
Yeah.

And I noticed too—these people have to be part of the Twelve Tribes—it says [on the record label]—that the background vocals on that particular tune [are] by Brother Dan Hudson, Sister Nanny, and Brother George Beaufort. Those are all Twelve Tribe members, true?

*Editorial Note: Pablove noted that though it’s always spelled “Dan Hudson,” it should actually be “Donald Hutson”—as Pablove has seen his passport.

Yes. George Beaufort. We did a very good song (singing) “Deep Inside My Soul”—[it’s called] “Reaching to Our Goal” with George Beaufort.

I’m gonna have to look that song up.
Well, you see, Donald Hutson was the original first artist, so [to] speak, inna Twelve Tribes. But after that now, as I tell you, I [was] doing auditions and I [was] selecting the artists. I [was] planning the state shows—we have one in April, two in May, one in July, and one in November. So although we touring with Jimmy Cliff, we promising Gad-man those five dates. And eventually dem start clashing. Was we building it: Me, and Bagga [Walker], and Sangie [Davis], and John Parkinson (“Bugs”) from Generation Gap—[and who was also an engineer for many years for Third World]. [And] Generation Gap had a big part to play because—Okay. Basically, all of us came inna the house together. Because I used to do shows with Generation Gap and we go into the country for a couple of days. And we’re biblical, you know, so everybody coming closer together. And eventually the whole band—and the whole steel band—[was] inna the Twelve Tribes now. And so we got [the] “Still Cool” [singing group] and all of dem people there was steel-band men. That’s how we play keyboard with Black Uhuru dem. A-Twelve Tribes man; him was [a] steel-band man.

Now Pablove, you mentioned earlier today already [star reggae singer] Winston Francis. And you mentioned [Francis’s hit song] “Mr. Fix It.” And you’ve told me before I even talked to you today how that song always puts you in a good mood when you’re depressed; [and you said] I should go check out that song.
Uh-huh.

I did go check it out and I love that song now. The lyrics are so uplifting. Because if you listen, Winston sings that “Love is not a bed of roses, and life is not an easy game—”
Yeah.

—it seems.”
Yes.

But “if you have trouble,” he [says]—and it’s funny, too, I don’t know if I sent you this—but if you were to go on YouTube, there’s a video of [Winston Francis] singing [“Mr. Fix It”] “live and direct.” And it’s many years after the original song. And he updates the song [lyrics]; he [sings] “If you’re lonely, just call him on your iPhone or on your Samsung,” and he’ll “fix it.” He’ll “be there.”
Yeah.

And it’s a very charming song. Now you played [keyboards] on the original song I’m guessing—is that true?
No. No.

Oh! I thought you must have because I know you have done some recordings with [Winston Francis] before. True?
All the recordings—maybe I did one with him at Studio One which I can’t remember now. But all the rest of the recordings [with Winston], we did it in London.

Alton Ellis said that?
Yes. And when he have to admit that to me, that means he [was] afraid of dem too. (Laughing)

(Laughing) Now Pablove, today, I know that you’re talking to me from Miami, Florida—
Yeah. Clewiston to be exact. It’s up near Lake Okeechobee.

And how long have you been living there—in Florida?
More than twenty years. I came down here in ’98 to tune my steel drum and end up in the steel band.

What made you decide to stay in Florida?
Well [it was] the same time I get involved with my wife and she started to encourage me to do [my] one-man[-band] thing. And work started to generate right away so—

So you planted your flag in Florida then. How often do you travel to Jamaica and when was the last time you were there?
I haven’t been there for over twelve years now. One time before that I went when [Trayvon Martin was killed], and I didn’t want to come back. But I had to come back. And then I went back down [also to Jamaica when] one of my brethren’s children dem carry me down.

Does it not feel the same anymore to you?
No man, Jamaica nice same way. Let me tell you—Jamaica—if you don’t want something for breakfast, you don’t ask. When I go to Jamaica, the way they treat me, I feel bad, because [of] the things that I want to do for them.

Yeah.
Because when dem wake me up and say, “What do you want for breakfast this morning, Pablo Black?” You understand how they treat me? And it’s poor people dem, you know?

Yeah, yeah. I know what you mean.
You understand. But them happy!

Yeah, that’s true.
[Despite] their poverty. It’s only politics that mash up Jamaica, man, Stephen.

Yeah. That’s true.
If there were no politics, Jamaica [is] a paradise, man.

The people [of Jamaica] are really wonderful people—
Yes.

—and they have a great love in their heart. Very warm people. Pablove, I know that you’re still very much performing and you’re still releasing new music. Not long ago, in 2023—so just three years ago—you released a moody, mostly instrumental track called “Mother Love” that I really dig with an artist called “RastaUp.” And you appear on a number of other recent tracks with RastaUp like “What Is Real” and “Strong People.” So since we’re nearing the end of this interview—as I can see that we’ve already been talking for almost two hours. And I want to thank you again so much, Pablove, for what has truly been a very epic and historic reasoning that we’ve had today. But before we part ways, I have three more questions—just three last questions I want to ask you.
RastaUp—that’s my son [Maro’s] production.

Oh!? I’m glad you mentioned that.
Because the video that you see now [for the RastaUp song “Strong People”], that’s me and my two sons[, Maro and Tadmar.]

I would love to hear it! Yes, please do let me know about that.
Yeah man.

Now the thing I know I have to ask you, because all Pablove Black fans—like myself—and many other people would want to know the answer to this: What are your plans for the future when it comes to performing and recording new music—I imagine you might do some more tunes with your sons? Is there any chance though that you might also—I’m hoping “yes”—would you possibly release one more solo album?
Yes. I was just calculating: I have about 70 songs put down.

Nice! Wow.
Because I’ve been thinking about songs from my mom and tings—from the ridiculous to the sublime. (Laughing)

(Laughing) You said [you have] 70 songs?
Yes! I don’t want to buss it ‘cause people like to listen and take your things off [and] carry it in a different direction.

Yeah. You might have to put out a double LP though?
Well, if the price [is] right. (Laughing)

(Laughing)
If the price is right. But if not, I’m gonna just work with RastaUp. Because what happened is, as I tell you, all the songs that I did in London, they need harmonies. I wasn’t doing those songs to sing solo.

They weren’t ready for release but Roy Cousins just put them out.
Yes, because when me and Bagga working, you know, we have Johnny Osbourne, we have Freddie McGregor—we have so many singers around us that we don’t even think about singing. We just think about playing music for them. And we always like the singer who lick shots on Babylon—‘cause [it’s] a Rasta thing deep down, you know?

Yeah.
So it’s not to be a singer. It’s to know that at least you have a message. And you know people looking for you to help uplift them too, you know?

Yeah. That’s such a good message, Pablove. Pablove, my second-to-last question is this: When all is said and done, how do you hope—how do you want—and how do you hope—that your musical legacy and your contributions to reggae music—how do you hope that they’ll be remembered?
Well, I’m gonna tell you. I always have Africa on my mind. That’s why my name is Pablo Black. So mi have to fulfill that. And it’s not no free ride. And I see Africa organizing themselves and recognizing the diaspora, and realizing how vital we are to each other. [And] I’m hearing that they have a thing for “Africa 2063.” You heard about that?

Not yet but I have now.
Okay with Burkina Faso [which used to be called The Republic of Upper Volta], Mali—all of those ancient places coming back together and rediscovering the sovereignty of their history. Now, 2063, I will be at 113 [years old].

(Laughing) Nice! You’ll be young.
Yes. So that is the only aim I have. To have my music together by that. If I can’t perform it, it [would still be part of] African history.

Nice. Now Pablove, I want to tell you a few things and then I want to give you—I want to let you have the final words today.
Sure.

And I will call you just to make sure I have the spellings of things correct, and make sure if there is any trouble—any clarifications and things like—[so] that everything is done correct. And I will also get in touch with you because I want you to, if you could, to remember to send me a whole lot of pictures—or as many pictures as you can.
Yeah.

Photos that you have [and] that when we publish the interview, we’ll note we got from you—we’ll say “courtesy of Pablove Black.”
Yeah.

But the last thing I want to put on tape today, Pablove, is, you know so many people around the reggae world—they’ll know, many of them—especially after having heard [or read] our reasoning—and all the artists that you worked with—the great part that you played in reggae music and Jamaican music history. I’m sure they all though would want to know from you, what kind of final message do you want to send out to all of your fans all—around the world—who love the music that you have put out all of these years—and [they] really hope you’ll continue putting out music—and maybe even do, as you [said], a third [solo] album. What’s your final message to them?
Well the first thing, I want to big up Scientist. For making me and him link up. Because after talking and thinking about it, anytime Scientist can set it up that, anywhere I play I just plug into him, and him just put me worldwide.

Nice. Yes. Big up, Scientist.
To the people who dem [are] my fans or admirers, I just want them to concentrate on thinking good thoughts. I make some juice named “good intentions.” And I find it program me to try doing a likkle better each day. You know, if we don’t get better by the day, then we’re regressing. And [I want to encourage] thinking good things about people—even if you don’t like them.

Yeah. Wow. That’s deep. That’s deep, Pablove. Well Pablove, I want to say “Forward ever, backward never.” And I hope you have a great rest of the day. And I’m gonna get back in touch with you, my friend, okay?
Sure. Jah love i-tinually.

Bless up, Pablove. Bye-bye.
Bye. God bless you, man. Irie.

Blessings. Bye-bye.