Chapter 6: Kingston Sessions "A Deadly Betrayal" Part 2 unfolds in a vibrant setting, celebrating Independence Day with a dazzling fireworks display that mesmerizes the guests, including Sia, a country girl from Jamaica. The episode artfully juxtaposes the glitzy life of Manhattan's elite and the struggles of Jamaican musicians, emphasizing the socio-economic divides that persist.

As the show progresses, listeners are introduced to the dynamics of creativity and collaboration in the music-making process, particularly between Rich Prafder an aspiring musician from NY and Deadly Headley, a legendary Jamaican saxophonist. The narrative traces the journey of their partnership, underscoring the excitement and challenges faced in producing the "Kingston Sessions" album. However, tension rises as Richie Prafder's ego and ambitions clash with the realities of the music business, leading to a series of poor decisions that jeopardize the project. The episode touches on the emotional landscape of the characters, revealing Richie's desperation for success and recognition, which ultimately blinds him to the collaborative spirit that is essential in music production. As the story unfolds, it explores themes of loyalty, betrayal, and the quest for artistic integrity, resonating deeply with anyone who has navigated the complexities of creative partnerships.

Produced by Henry K in association with Voice Boxx Studio Red Hillz, Jamaica

Closing Credits: Teach the Children Saxsemilla feat The Mighty Diamonds

Home | ROOTSLAND Reggae Music, Podcast & Merchandise "Wear Your Culture"

Rootsland is produced by Henry K Productions Inc. in association with Voice Boxx Studios in Kingston, Jamaica.

Guest Vocals by:  Patrick "Curly Loxx" Gaynor, Ben K

music production and sound design by Henry K

Disclaimer: Rootsland features dramatic recreations based on real events and features actors playing the roles of the characters on the show . These are stories and opinions told for entertainment and education from memory and the host assumes no liability for any omissions or errors. Any use of material not owned by Rootsland is covered Under section 107 of US copyright law of 1976 in which allowance is made for "fair use" for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship and research, in these cases all credit is given to the owner of the work.

Oh, my gosh, Henry, that's beautiful.

Those are gorgeous.

Aren't they amazing?

Happy 4th, baby.

I don't see fireworks like that in Jamaica.

Yeah, that's.

Oh, that's how we do it up here in the big bad usa, you know?

And you say Russell does this every year?

Yep, every Independence Day.

He's the talk of the town.

Stays that way all year.

Maybe one day we can have a.

House like this on the beach here or in Jamaica.

Hey, what's going on, guys?

Oh, there's Richie.

Hi, Sia.

What's going on, Richie?

Oh, hey, Richie.

What a show, right?

Oh, yeah.

Bet you're glad you came.

We're so glad we came.

Russell's the real deal.

Real deal, bro.

What did I tell you?

He came through, Henry.

He's the real thing, right?

Fireworks on the beach.

Oh, my gosh.

It's heaven.

This is beautiful.

Great.

What a house.

Anyways, when you have a minute, he wants to speak to us, so let's head up there.

Sure.

All right.

I'll come see him in a little bit.

Because righteousness govern the world.

Broadcasting live and direct from the rolling red hills on the outskirts of Kingston, Jamaica, from a magical place at the intersection of words, sound and power.

The red light is on.

Your dial is set.

The frequency in tune to the Rootsland podcast.

Stories that are music to your ears.

Manhattan real estate prices were at a premium.

Gulfstream had its biggest year ever for private jet orders and cigar bars and private wine cellars were popping up all over the country.

Keeping up with the Joneses became a full time job as the super wealthy were jostling to be the center of attention at the Upper east side.

Dinner parties, luxury sports cars, boring all white.

Summer bashes in the Hamptons, been there winters in Aspen, done that.

The luxury yachts, the diamonds and pearls.

It was a never ending game of one upsmanship.

How to stand out in the world of extraordinary.

For Russell Rosenthal, commodities trader from Long Island, New York, it was his spectacular fourth of July fireworks show he hosted from his Atlantic beach oceanfront home.

It was the summer highlight for the entire neighborhood.

And just imagine what that experience was like for a girl like Sia, a country girl from Jamaica.

Born in the rural parish of St.

Thomas in a small wooden shack without running water or electricity.

This year's fourth of July party was extra special.

Russell was celebrating his latest business endeavor, which is why Sia and I were there to begin with.

The Wall street wizard would be blazing uncharted territory in the music business as the executive producer for a jazz reggae album titled Kingston Sessions by the band Sax Amelia, made up of Deadly Headley Bennett, the renowned Jamaican saxophonist, and Richie Pravda, Russell Rosenthal's pool boy.

Turns out it is who?

You know Henry Richie.

Those are my reggae boys.

Oh, wait a second, Doris.

Phone never stops ringing, even on the 4th of July.

How are you?

What's going on, Russell?

Hey, Russell.

Thanks for inviting us.

Yeah, been a great party.

Great show.

Really great.

Sia loved it.

Got the money all wired into the account.

You all set to go?

We're all set.

Headley's ready?

Yep.

I'm really counting on you guys to make a great record.

Russell, man, you heard the demo?

I love that demo tape.

My wife loved it, the kids loved it.

We all thought it was great.

Okay.

Wow.

Family fair.

That's cool, right, Richard?

It's the Sax Amelia sound.

It's one of a kind.

Oh, I trust you guys.

I know what you know what you're doing.

Don't worry about a thing.

We're not gonna let you down, Russell.

We won't let you down, Richie.

You never let me down yet.

Guys, go back to the party and enjoy yourselves.

And I'm really looking forward to you making a great record.

As much as my friend Richie envisioned himself the next Bob Marley, a new millennium white savior of reggae, I convinced him it made much more sense to form a group with Deadly Headley, an established icon of the genre.

It was a concept I had been developing for years.

The idea of teaming up Rich and Deadly, the wise, paternal, reserved music veteran, and the reckless young gun looking to make a name for himself.

It was a timeless narrative for a reason.

I had a hunch the two musicians would connect and create musical electricity, and, given enough time, could develop into a fresh sound that was able to cross geographical, generational and musical boundaries.

And that was long before Lady Gaga and Tony Bennett had the idea.

Richie and I decided to partner up.

We invested $2,500 each to have him come down to Kingston and record a demo tape with Headley under the name Sax Amelia.

So we rented three bungalows next to each other at the Mayfair, a comfortable three star hotel in a quiet Kingston neighborhood not far from the studio.

The main building, a 19th century great house.

And then smaller, newly built guest accommodations scattered across a lush suburban property.

There was a swimming pool that Richie would test daily with a kit that he brought from home before eventually taking the time to show the property manager, Michael all the intricacies of cleaning and maintaining a pool properly.

The Mayfair also had an adjacent standalone pub that seemed to cater more to the after work Kingston businessmen looking to tie one on before heading home to the wife and kids.

But it was great for the occasional takeout burger and fries.

The Mayfair was the perfect spot for our Sax Amelia camp.

Even though I had my apartment cross town, logistically it made more sense for me to stay at the hotel and keep an eye on my artists.

Not that I minded the hot showers and the air condition, a luxury that my little loft in Merivale didn't afford me.

As far as Headley, he was just happy to be able to escape the confines of the ghetto.

Even if it was only for a month or two.

And without the stress and pressures of inner city life, Headley was able to concentrate on doing what he always did.

Play beautiful music.

We would rise before dawn, enjoy a fresh breakfast out on the veranda of the great house and watch the sun illuminate the sky behind a silhouette of the majestic blue mountains.

The day would officially begin once the boys cracked open their sax cases and began warming up their horns in the cool shade of a large cotton tree located between the two bungalows.

Headley ran Richie through the same training routines he learned as a student at Alpha under the direction of Sister Mary Ignatius, the jazz loving nun that was the school's musical director for four decades.

The same drills, the same exercises, the same tedious playing of scales over and over again.

The hours melted into days and the days into weeks.

As the bond between the two deepened, their sound became more refined and at some point, Richie surrendered his ego and yielded musically to Headley.

And that was the real birth of this Ax Amelia.

Sound.

No Richemond.

Watch your timing.

Listen while play and follow me.

How about now?

Is that all right?

Does that sound better?

No money.

You still nugget.

It's all right, Hadley.

I got it, I got it.

I do, I do.

Timing.

Watch your timing, Richie.

That initial tape was raw, unpolished, but it captured the essence of Sax Amelia and showed the true depth potential of the project.

The backing tracks featured a young band named SATA, led by two brothers on bass and drums that had an instinctual feel for playing roots reggae together and holding down the vocals on the demo tape were Sugar Black and Le Bancolay, My Go to singers.

Coming off their recent string of local hits, they belted out the Marley and Culture Hooks with the confidence and authority of headliners, yet were mindful to give enough space for Rich and Headley.

To shine, to trade off their sax leads during the verses that highlighted complemented each other's individual style.

You know, the Oxford Dictionary defines a demo tape as a recording originally presented on a cassette tape made to demonstrate the capabilities of a musical group or performer.

Well, it did the job.

It demonstrated our capabilities.

And Russell Rosenthal decided to invest $100,000 of his hard earned money to finance our record.

Something I'll be forever grateful and appreciative for.

I remember back in the studio the night we finished mixing down the demo tape in Kingston with Garfield the engineer.

When we listened back to the final product, Ritchie was practically in tears.

He promised me and Headley that he would find an angel to invest in sax Amelia.

And to his credit, he delivered Russell.

Listen boys, I'm just gonna ask you two things.

First of all, I don't want you taking any money.

I want you putting every penny I give you into that record.

And you just keep up what you're doing and we'll have a hit.

We'll be bigger than US Steel.

And I love what you're doing for Deadly Headley.

Okay.

Was that a lot of money to.

Spend on a reggae record?

Oh yeah.

Did I actually think we'd ever make back that money and see a profit?

Hopeful, but not counting on it.

Did I mind spending all that time and energy working on a project that I wasn't going to get paid for?

Not for a second I knew how far $100,000 goes in Jamaica and what you get for that kind of money.

I was going to make a great friggin record and get a chance to work with all the artists I love and pay them well to do it, which they'd never forget.

And I also remember how much fun we all had when we recorded the demo.

And that was only on five grand.

So I could only imagine the style and comfort that a hundred thousand dollar budget would bring.

And then of course there was Deadly Headley.

He would be well taken care of, treated like royalty and finally get a chance to make his dream album.

And if for no other reason, that made it all worthwhile.

So let's give thanks and praise to.

The most high God Jarrastafari Selassie.

The crown jewel of Kingston Sessions was Saximilia's remake of the reggae classic Pass the Kutchi.

The song originally came out as an instrumental titled Full up, released by Cox and Dodd Studio One Label.

It's been remade and reworked countless times, including hit recordings by both the Mighty Diamonds and Musical youl.

Although Deadly Headley Bennett was one of the original writers of that composition.

He never earned a penny in writers royalties, even though the song has generated.

Millions of dollars in revenue.

Our version was a way for Headley to reclaim his rights and potentially earn some income off of this song.

It features the Mighty Diamonds reprising their hit.

They were more than happy to lend their voices to the project in order to help correct some of the past injustices endured by Headley.

Another standout on the album, our smooth jazz take on Bob Marley's I Shot the Sheriff.

Thanks to artists like Kenny G, David Sanborn and Spyro Gyra, adult contemporary light jazz stations like New York CD 101.9 were gaining popularity in major markets across the country.

It was creating a new audience of music fans that was suited for the Sax Amelia sound.

It made perfect sense that we had a track on our record geared for that type of radio format.

It wasn't just jazz radio we were hoping for, we were going for top 40 radio airplay.

Which is why we brought the Mighty Diamonds back into the studio to record a pop rendition of the Crosby, Stills and Nash rock anthem Teach your Children.

With lyrics perfectly suited for reggae.

Tabby Diamond's melodious voice rides an up tempo dance hall beat flavored with steel drums, adding a laid back Caribbean vibe.

The track is peppered with rich and deadly, tastefully adding just enough touches of sax to remind the listeners that this is a Sax Amelia record.

Because the past is just a goodbye.

Not wanting to be too commercial, we also decided to dig deep into reggae's roots with a pair of stellar vocal performances from Grammy winner Michael Rose, former lead singer of the band Black Yahuru.

One of those songs gathering in unity, an African Nyabingi version of an ancient Judaic melody, Hine Ma Ta ove.

This is where rich and deadly are at their most cohesive and the music of Sax Amelia enters the spiritual realm.

Michael Rose improvised his lyrics, recorded them in one take right from the top.

He would later describe that song as coming from deep in his soul.

Turns out he wasn't the only one.

It was during that recording session that I found out on a phone call with my mom that she had stage four ovarian cancer.

I was also feeling it deep in my soul.

Besides getting to make My dream record.

It was just such a pleasure to see Deadly Headley so happy, so in his element, finally getting his accolades, all that retroactive credit he so deserved.

Of course, the veteran took it all in stride, simply and quietly enjoying his long overdue moment in the sun.

However, Richie, that was a whole nother story.

Have you ever heard the expression, don't buy into the hype?

Well, Richie was hitting the ATM machine every day just to pay for it.

He needed the approval, craved the attention.

And when you're an artist or producer spending tens of thousands of dollars on studio time, musicians, engineers and yes men, you're going to get a lot of yeses for your money.

They're going to tell you exactly what you want to hear.

Their job is to make you feel invincible.

Your job is to stay grounded.

By the time Richie was ready to leave Jamaica, I thought I was going to have to have my people call his people just to say goodbye.

He was convinced that that Sax Amelia record was going to be the best selling album since Michael Jackson's Thriller.

He kind of discovered his inner golem from Lord of the Rings.

And that Sax Amelia mastertape was his precious.

When he arrived in New York, he was on a mission.

Richie pushed and pressed and prodded everyone he knew for contacts and connections in the music industry.

All his pool customers and their friends and their families and their family's doctors and their family's doctors friends.

No one was off limits.

Everyone was fair game.

He reached out to the record labels, entertainment lawyers, management companies, publishers.

It always seemed like that million dollar deal was just around the corner.

Always just one phone call or one meeting away.

But eventually, Richie would learn that in this era of chiseled teen idols like the Backstreet Boys or scantily clad girl groups like the Spice Girls, major labels just weren't interested in a boy band made up of a short white kid from Long island and a Jamaican senior citizen.

It just wasn't happening.

We did have one solid offer on the table.

My old boss, Dr.

Dredd.

Gary Himmelfarb from Ross Records, the owner of the largest independent reggae label in the country.

He loved our album.

Totally got Sax Amelia rich in Headley.

The cross cultural connection, the music, the sound.

He saw the potential, the great press the project would receive.

Dr.

Dredd was all in.

He wanted to sign Sax Amelia to Ross Records and pay an advance of $30,000 for the exclusive rights to the album.

And in the world of reggae, that was a solid offer.

Not to mention having the entire Ross Records infrastructure in our corner Media people, sales reps, press, promotion and marketing team.

This was a dream deal for a new artist being signed to a respected record label that wanted to build the brand.

There were two problems.

Ritchie's pride and his ego.

Yeah, Ross Records, man.

It's a good deal, Richie.

It's a really good deal.

Come on, just listen.

I know Ross Records wants to sign us to a deal, but they're not offering us nearly enough money.

Really good deal.

Come on, go back to Ross with that kind of.

Look, I know it's not what we spent on the record, but look, we're building a brand.

Come on.

He's gonna take you guys out on tour with some of the big acts.

I mean, think about Headley.

This is a big break for him, man.

I don't care about building a brand.

And it's not about Headley.

I'm not gonna give up that record for $30,000.

But there'll be other records.

We'll produce other records.

I would rather sell it to my pool customers out of the back of my van.

What?

You'd rather give it up for that amount of money?

You'd rather have that record sit in the back of a hot van than be in every store in the country?

Come on.

Yes.

You're so short sighted.

I really would rather do that than look like an idiot.

Come on, think about your boy.

Think about Headley.

I really don't care if that record never comes out.

You know, the really selfish part was that in the end, Richie didn't only take his ball and go home, he took Headley's ball.

Also the iconic Selma sax that deadly Headley composed so many hit songs on.

Well, it was in disrepair, so he gave it to Richie to repair at the Sam Ash Music Store in New York like he had done so many times before.

But this time around, Richie wouldn't give it back to Headley until he paid that $1,000 repair bill in full.

An amount of money that he knew very well Headley could never come up with.

I guess Richie figured he had gotten everything else that Headley had to offer.

And now the only thing left of value was the man's saxophone.

Henry, if you don't mind, can you please call Richie for me?

Sure, Headley.

Of course I'll call Richie.

What's the matter?

Of course.

Because I really don't understand what he's saying about the saxophone repair.

Yeah, what about your repair?

Yeah, the saxophone.

He still has it up there.

I'm saying that he doesn't want to send it back down.

He hasn't sent it back yet.

Why?

Until I pay him a thousand us.

A thousand dollars he wants.

He knows that I do have that kind of money.

No, that was all part of the budget.

No, he was supposed to cover all that.

No, no.

Yes, I did ask him to repair the budget.

Yeah, I'll call.

I never realized it was so much.

This is ridiculous.

Headley.

You signed something?

He made you sign something.

Yeah, man, I did sign one little piece of paper.

Oh, my God.

But never paid much.

Mine.

Richie, what is this bullshit?

Really?

Come on.

Headley says you have a saxophone and you're not gonna give it back to him.

Come on, dude.

I'm not sending it back until he pays what he owes.

He freaking made you.

Don't care.

I really don't care.

Tens of thousands of dollars you spent on useless things.

And now you gonna hold out?

You gonna extort him for a thousand bucks?

Come on, Henry.

If you want Headley to have back a saxophone, then you could just send me the thousand dollars yourself and pay.

Things are tough right now, Richie.

I.

I don't have that money.

I can't come up with a thousand right now.

Come on, give us a break.

No way.

Hello?

Richie Freaking prick hung up.

Calm down.

Calm down, Henry.

No, I'm not gonna calm down.

Calm down.

Come on, calm down, Henry.

Kid, just.

Just give him Headley.

Come on, man.

Who's extorting you?

Richie's a good.

You all right?

He's just a little confused, you know?

He'll come to him senses.

No, no.

He'll come to his senses.

I know that.

Good kid.

Come on, man.

Okay, Henry, relax yourself.

Calm yourself down.

After that phone call, I was so disgusted.

I never spoke to Richie again.

Or played that sax amelia record.

Even at 85 years old, never one to sit at home and idle and do nothing.

After his morning cup of tea, he took the bus down to Halfway Tree.

Passed through some of the old haunts and musical hangouts.

The barbershop, the studios.

The last of the record stores in town.

He was checking out the scene.

Any potential work, any good gossip.

Headley knew everything that happened on the streets of Kingston.

But he also knew how to keep quiet about it.

Feeling a bit fatigued, Deadly decided to call it a day.

And instead of packing on one of the hot buses, he took a taxi back home to a small room he rented in a run down house in the West Kingston ghetto.

One of the local youth who looked out for Headley noticed he looked tired as he lumbered his way into the yard.

So he offered the musician a hot cup of tea.

And by the time Headley's neighbor arrived with that drink, my humble and gifted mentor, my Jedi Master, Felix Deadly Headley Bennet had passed away.

He was lying there peacefully on his bed with an open Bible on his chest.

As one would expect, Deadly Headley didn't.

Leave a will he never owned very much.

He didn't even have enough money in his account to cover the cost of his own funeral.

And most upsetting, he never did get back his beloved Selma Sacks from Ritchie.

Still, he never gave up faith in his former student.

Always believed that Richie would come through one day, which was so indicative of the kind person that Headley was gentle and forgiving.

He was only able to see the best within us all, even until the very end.

Which I guess was his final and most important lesson.

After Headley's death, I did something I thought I'd never do.

I listened to a copy of Sax Amelia Kingston's Sessions, the greatest record that never was.

And the most amazing thing happened.

Instead of anger or disappointment or even.

Disgust, I actually loved it.

Was totally absorbed in that album.

And like music's supposed to do, it transported me back in time to those Kingston sessions.

And there he was, front and center, Deadly Headley, speaking to me from beyond.

And the joy, the celebration I heard in his sax, it was so overpowering that even Richie couldn't spoil it.

Headley wouldn't let that happen.

You know, when Netflix puts out Ruth's Land, maybe that's how I'll conclude this.

Chapter on a high note.

Because the real life version doesn't end.

So sweet, you see, a little after.

Deadly Headley passed away, I guess in order to capitalize off the death of his former bandmate Richie Pravda, illegally and without any written consent or authorization from me, commercially released that Sax Amelia album.

All over the world.

A record that I produced and co owned.

And that was a real insult to both me and the memory of Deadly Headley.

And I know Deadly always believed in Richie.

Thought he was just a confused kid, that one day would see his errant ways find the path back to righteousness.

But Richie was a grown man now.

He had kids of his own.

This was the example he wanted to set.

This is how he wanted to be remembered.

Not as a musician, but as a thief.

A fraudster who stole someone else's intellectual property just to try and pass it off as his own.

I mean, I wonder what he even thinks when he listens to that record, is he proud of the accomplishment?

The last time I spoke with Richie, things were tough for both me and Headley.

Between the two of us, we couldn't even come up with $1,000 to get back Headley's saxophone.

So Richie, like most entitled bullies, was counting on the fact that I couldn't afford or would even want to spend tens of thousands of dollars on legal fees to sue him over ownership of that Sax Amelia record, an album that probably hadn't sold more than 20 copies since its release.

But you see how life works.

When Richie put out that album, what he wasn't counting on was that one day I would have a number one music history podcast with tens of thousands.

Of my own listeners.

And while he may have hijacked the.

Music for now, there was no way.

He was gonna hijack the story.

So, out of respect for the late, great Deadly Headley, I thought it appropriate I contact my old friend Richie, write him a little note, seek an amicable resolution.

You know, give him a chance to explain and redeem himself.

After all, the truth always comes out, and justice is best served with a side of aki and saltfish.

Why don't you shoot me an email?

Been spending the last couple of years resolving and solving issues and would love to close the Sax Amelia chapter.

As partner and producer of an album that's been commercially released, I just want to know where you feel I stand in terms of my rights and percentages of the project and maybe just put something simple in writing.

I'm bringing this up because I now host a podcast that chronicles my years in Jamaica, and I'm using it to pay tribute to my heroes like Headley and handle unfinished business.

I look forward to hearing from you.

We're overdue to catch up.

Call me when you're in New York.

And we can have lunch.

Praying Hands emoji.

Call me when you're in New York.

And we can have lunch.

Praying handsome.

No, no, I'm sorry to say, Deadly Headly.

That's no confused kid.

That's a very deliberate non answer.

I'll tell you what, Richie, how about I skip that lunch?

I'll just get right to the tea.

You know how much your friend Deadly always loved his tea.

You.

You are on the road.

Must have a goal that you can live by and so become yourself.

Because the past is just a goodbye Teach your children well dear fathers Help you slowly go by and feed them on your dream the one they fit the one you know by.

Don'T you.

Ever ask them why if they told you you would cry Just look at them inside I know they love you oh, I know they love you.

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