
“Cannabis had been decriminalised here in Jamaica, but there’s still an overwhelming number of people who are in prison because they were smoking a spliff or had an ounce bag,” he points out.

Paul is a lifelong advocate of cannabis’s beneficial properties – many of his songs reference and celebrate it – and says he thinks of those like his father who were criminalised by their involvement with the drug whenever he hears about cannabis legalisation advancing around the world. Eventually, coastguards picked him up and he caught a case in the States.” Garth Henriques was deported back to Jamaica, and was imprisoned on an unrelated charge just before Paul turned 13. He was in the water in the Everglades at two o’clock in the morning. “For two weeks, we didn’t know if he was alive or dead. “It impacted my life terribly,” says Paul. In 1982, when Paul was nine, his father and another man crash-landed in the Florida Everglades in a Cherokee Six “ganja plane” stuffed with 700lb of cannabis. “It’s still dancehall music, but I think it’s more suited for the palate of my international audience.” “ Scorcha is more of an international approach to making the riddims and the songs,” says Paul of the difference between the two records. It’s quite the guest list: former No Doubt singer Gwen Stefani, LA rapper Ty Dolla Sign and British singer-songwriter Raye all rub shoulders with Jamaican musical royalty like Damian Marley and Stylo G. His next record, Scorcha, was initially slated to drop in May but has now been pushed back until early next year, reportedly due to the difficulty of clearing rights for the many international stars set to join Paul on the album. In March, he released Live N Livin, a record that celebrated the local scene and exclusively featured fellow Jamaican musicians like Buju Banton, Busy Signal and Jesse Royal. Paul has an alchemical talent for turning dancehall riddims into global smash hits, and this year, robbed of the ability to tour, he’s thrown himself into making as much new music as possible. “In my experience, when anything becomes too industrial you lose the quality,” he says. He’s recently started funding a water trust that helps small farmers keep their crops irrigated even during droughts. In some places there’s no sand, there’s no beach anymore.” He tries to do what he can. “There are beaches I know that have receded 20 feet. “I’ve seen climate change first-hand here,” he says into his iPhone, standing outside his house in Kingston with bright sunlight glinting off his chunky black shades. He worries, though, about the island’s future. While missing out on that lavish bash may have been disappointing, Paul has been enjoying spending more time than usual in his homeland. “That was a big decision, but I did send dubplates so at least I was there in essence, and I got to tell her happy birthday through the dub.” “I was like, ‘Yo, I’m not travelling right now’,” says the 48-year-old with a shake of his head. But thanks to the pandemic, even an invitation to Cardi B’s recent birthday party in Las Vegas couldn’t pry him off the island.

In ordinary times, the ambassador for dancehall jets around the world enthusiastically encouraging us all to shake our things. Sean Paul hasn’t left Jamaica for 18 months.
