4 weeks ago
9
As the second day of Calabash 2025 drew to a close beneath a starlit Treasure Beach sky, a new kind of language took over the festival – one of sound, sweat, and sonic storytelling. Midnight ushered in Cala-Clash, the festival’s sound system showdown, where literature gave way to lyrics, riddims, and rebellion.
It began with a slow, deliberate tease – Bad Gyal Marie and ZJ Liquid trading tunes like the versed selectors they are. They dug deep into the archives, pulling out reggae gems from the golden era: Bad Gyal Marie opened the night, taking her position behind the decks with poise and purpose. She set the tone with deep, foundational reggae tracks.
“We’re starting from the roots tonight,” she told the crowd. “You need to remember where our music comes from.”
Her set paid homage to Jamaica’s musical legacy – Bob Andy, Burning Spear and Marcia Griffiths – a steady, respectful beginning that stirred both emotion and movement. Each song landed like a message passed down from ancestors.
ZJ Liquid followed, answering with cuts like Book of Rules, Declaration of Rights, and Tenement Yard. His presence was measured but magnetic, guiding the crowd with both hands and voice.
“Listen to the messages in these songs,” he said. “This is our foundation – not just entertainment.”
Together, the two DJs honoured the roots of reggae, drawing the crowd in with selections rich in history and soul. The air felt sacred, but the energy was building.
Then came the switch – the riddims sharpened, and the tempo picked up as both selectors launched into a golden era of 1990s reggae. The crowd erupted. Bad Gyal Marie took the energy higher with Beres Hammond’s Tempted to Touch and Buju Banton’s Wanna Be Loved. She moved confidently, calling out to the crowd: “Now the real vibe begins. This is for the lovers, the dancers, and the freedom fighters.”
ZJ Liquid matched her with a masterful juggling of Sanchez, Garnett Silk, and Louie Culture, sending the audience into a joyful frenzy. “I know you’re all feeling this era,” he said, grinning. “This is the soundtrack of the ‘90s – both the streets and the soul.”
Feet moved faster. Voices got louder. The entire beach became one unified pulse. Then the final evolution: dancehall. And this was no soft landing – this was liftoff. Bad Gyal Marie returned to the mic with authority, diving into a blazing set that included Only Man She Want, Summer Time, and Independent Ladies as she spun tracks from Popcaan, Vybz Kartel and Gaza Slim, pouring raw energy into every beat. The crowd surged toward the stage, waving and lifting friends onto their shoulders, their feet flying in every direction.
ZJ Liquid wasn’t about to back down. He came in hard, unleashing a barrage of high-energy dancehall anthems – the kind that come with their own choreography. Almost instantly, Cala-Clash morphed into a full-blown dance segment. As ZJ Liquid dropped Signal Di Plane, Pon Di River, and Happiness, dancers who knew the routines surged to the front, turning the beach into a stage. The energy exploded, creating a shared, electrifying display of identity, rhythm, and movement. Though billed as a clash, this wasn’t a battle – it was a vibrant exchange, a musical call-and-response that saw each selector pushing the other, and the crowd, to even greater heights.
As the final track faded around 2 a.m., the crowd was still buzzing.
English (US) ·