On January 18, the reggae world paused to remember Stephen "Cat" Coore—a founding member of Third World, a master guitarist, and a quiet giant whose influence reached far beyond the stage. Cat Coore was not a musician who chased attention. He was a musician who earned respect—by how he played, how he lived, and how he treated people. To understand his legacy, you don’t need a full discography. You need to understand three moments—one professional, one personal, and one rooted in giving back. Together, they tell the story of a man who believed reggae was not just sound, but responsibility. 1. The Professional Moment: When Reggae Went Global Without Losing Its Soul In the early 1970s, reggae stood at a crossroads. The music was powerful, but often boxed in—seen as regional, niche, or limited in scope. When Third World emerged, Stephen “Cat” Coore helped change that perception forever. As a founding member and musical architect, Cat Coore brought discipline, musicality, and re...

Some interviews feel like marketing. Others feel like a moment you’re supposed to hear. This conversation with Blaz’em belongs to the second category. For over 15 years, Blaz’em has lived Rastafari—not as a look, not as a trend, but as a discipline. In his exclusive Reggae Hour interview, he speaks with a clarity that cuts through noise, ego, and industry illusions. He talks about faith, elders, mistakes, music, youth, and why conscious reggae still matters when so much feels disconnected. What follows isn’t just a recap. It’s a reasoning—with the artist, and with yourself. “I Always Knew I Was Going to Be a Rasta” Blaz’em’s journey didn’t begin on a stage or in a studio. It began quietly—as a youth watching, listening, absorbing. “Looking at the elder Rastaman dem, it interest me. The picture of Selassie—I used to just stand and stare at it. I knew one day… I was going to be a Rasta.” At just 14 years old, he embraced Rastafari—not because it was popular, but because it felt like home...

Why the most principled reggae festival chose integrity over spectacle, and how the music moves forward . INTRODUCTION: A Silence That Spoke Volumes When a two-page letter quietly dropped from Rebel Salute, it didn’t just cancel a weekend — it sent shockwaves through global reggae culture. For decades, Rebel Salute has stood as more than a reggae music festival. It has been a moral compass . A place where conscious lyrics mattered more than hype, where roots and culture outweighed trends, and where the music was treated not as entertainment alone, but as responsibility. So when the official notice appeared — calm, measured, unapologetically principled — it landed heavy. Rebel Salute 2026 was canceled. Not postponed for convenience. Not reshuffled for profit. Canceled out of respect. In an era where festivals push forward no matter the cost, Rebel Salute made a radical decision: integrity over optics . Safety over spectacle. Legacy over immediacy. Hurricane Melissa didn’t just damag...