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...

 When Dennis Brown Walked In… The Whole Vibe Shifted Some reggae stories feel like myth. Some feel like sacred cultural memories. But once in a while, an artist sits down and drops a moment so powerful that you can see it… hear it… feel it. That’s Tony Roy. And that moment? It starts with Dennis Brown walking into the studio. “Mi stop everything,” Tony says. “Man hum one melody… and di whole riddim change.” If that line alone gives you goosebumps — you’re exactly who needs to be locked in for this interview. --- Tony Roy Returns: Roots, Rhythm, & Real Stories On November 24th at 7 PM CT, reggae lovers worldwide are gathering for the return of Tony Roy on REGGAE HOUR — and this isn’t your typical interview. This is the legendary, unfiltered, behind-the-scenes truth of reggae culture. Not the polished version… Not the textbook history… But the lived experience of a man who was actually there. Studio nights with icons. Tour stories from cold cities that somehow felt like Kingston....