It's impossible to overestimate the impact that Dread Beat an' Blood had on the British scene. Its arrival had all the explosive power of a hydrogen bomb, detonating across the reggae, punk, and political scenes alike. By the time of its

release in 1978, Linton Kwesi Johnson was already a major force within the West Indian community. A poet, with two books of collected poems to his credit, a respected journalist, and an ardent activist, Johnson had been involved in politics since his college days, and his words carried enormous power. Putting them to a musical backing only increased their potency, and brought them to a much wider audience. Johnson brought his journalistic eagle eye to Dread Beat, but viewed through a poetical prism, sharply etching real life situations with turns of phrases that deeply resonated, and imbuing them with his own impassioned political beliefs. The timing was also crucial, its release coming at a point of growing social conflict that was initially confined to immigrant areas, but was now spilling out of the punk scene and into the larger community's consciousness. Thus, even though six of the poems within this set were first published three years earlier in the book that shares the same title as the record, they equally described scenes taking place outside the West Indian community. "Five Nights of Bleeding" was set within a series of black concerts and shows, but punks were also experiencing the same police assaults on their own shows. "Doun di Road" is a smoldering look at intra-community violence, as well as the rise of the neo-Nazi National Front Party. The battles between punks and skins were equally fratricidal, while Front supporters were just as happy to give any stray punk they found alone on the street a good kicking as a lone black. And "Come Wi Goh Dung Deh" rings just as true for poor whites in England's poverty-ridden inner cities as for the immigrant ghettos Johnson was actually describing. Rock Against Racism had planted strong seeds of consciousness in growing segments of the white music scene, and Dread Beat provided the thunderstorm needed to help those crops flower. As poems, the words carried weight. With steaming, sizzling musical backings, their deep grooves and militant edges pulsing out of speakers, they echoed forth from clubs and sound systems across the U.K. and beyond. The two new poems, "It Dread Inna Inglan (For George Lindo)" and "Man Free (For Darcus Howe)," both powerfully addressed current events, adding an even more timely flavor to the set. However, it was arguably the older "All Wi Doin Is Defendin" that best encapsulated the passions of the day, a fervid rallying cry to the masses to choose their weapons and man the barricades. It was also prophetic, accurately predicting the riots that scorched the nation in 1981. One of the most militant and uncompromising albums ever released in Britain, a flaying of the nation, a political and musical masterpiece, no other record more vividly and passionately describes the state of the country in the late '70s. ~ Jo-Ann Greene, All Music Guide