My first exposure to real reggae—that is, not the rock-reggae hybrid made famous by Bob Marley—came nearly five years ago during a trip to Amsterdam. Amsterdam can be a little overwhelming—especially on your first day—so in order for my comrades and I to catch our collective breath, we stopped at a little coffeeshop. It might've been called Easy Times. Maybe not, I'm a little cloudy on that.

It was a reggae-based coffeeshop, and not the kind in the Red Light district that only cranks Marley. The guy behind the bar was a quiet, older man—50 maybe—his face crinkled from the Jamaican sun and his hair tinged with gray. We were the only people in the place, so we sat at the bar. Oppressively loud reggae was playing over the hi-fi, but I didn't really notice it.

My internal voyeur kept my eyes glued to the bartender. Though his eyes were shot with red, there was something about his air, his cautious movement, the depth in his eyes; I became transfixed. And although I wasn't listening to the music closely, he was. Out of nowhere, he came together with the music and bellowed "Loooove, Rastafari." We've all heard someone sing along with their favorite record, but this guy was different. From his voice, those two words rang with such clear-cut spirituality; he was so clearly moved by the music, that suddenly I awoke to what we were listening to. The beauty of reggae suddenly unfolded within me: the overlapping rhythms, bass used as a weapon, sugar-coated brimstone-pulling vocals, the gentle and rocking tch-tch of the guitar.

Since then, my knowledge about Jamaican music has increased exponentially. I can't get enough of it. Reggae itself can be broken down into three categories: Roots, dub and dancehall. (It's worth noting that the incubators for reggae were ska and rocksteady in the sixties, which drew equally from American R&B/soul and traditional Caribbean musical forms of calypso and soca.) Most people are familiar with the roots reggae tradition: combining overlapping rhythms and the familiar one-drop guitar style, which had its heyday in the seventies with artists like Culture, Tosh and Burning Spear. Dub reggae—that of the crashing echo chambers and reverberation—was the first popular music form to make the producer, i.e., the man behind the sound boards, a force of equal importance to the musical instrument. Lee Scratch Perry (and his band, the Upsetters) is accepted as the father of dub, but other artists (Mad Scientist) are equally accomplished. Dancehall reggae, a style demarcated by a DJ, no bassline and ragga-chanting toasters, came to prominence in the eighties with the likes of Yellowman and, in the nineties, Shabba Ranks.

What separates reggae, especially among modern musicians, is the conviction with which it's made—particularly by the artists who adhere to Rastafari. Vocalists like Sizzla (pictured), Garnett Silk and Luciano sing with unmatched conviction when compared to modern music. It is, in every way excepting religious specifics, modern-day gospel music—though Rasta-slanted reggae, born mostly in the late sixties and seventies, also functioned as a protest medium. While modern gospel has become watered down by invasions from rock instrumentation, the history of gospel is filled with vocalists whose energy and conviction is both infectious and spine-tingling. With so much modern music inspired by ennui (indie-rock, punk rock) or anger (hip hop, punk rock), spiritually inspired music swings a heavy bat.

Here's a guide to enjoyment: Start by listening to the rolling bassline. Then attempt to identify every individual percussive instrument you can hear—the simplicity of reggae often betrays complexity of the rhythmic patterns. Now let your hearing integrate the easy stuff; the guitars or keyboards (or both), the horn sections. While trying to keep track of all the above, let the vocals seep in. Don't try to hear what the words are saying (that can be impossible), just let the inflection manifest.

Now put it all together. When pitted against jazz musicians trained at the highest level, reggae musicians may not display the same level of pure musicianship, but it's music with subtle complexity and soul and delicate melody.

Unfortunately, like any music, there's so much bad reggae out there that the uninitiated buyer can get burned. In fact, some dancehall—especially much of which takes its cue from NWA instead of Jah—is particularly touchy; so much is just gussied-up R&B and completely disposable. But the last seven years or so have seen the rise of conscious dancehall, with artists crossing roots traditions with the DJ/ragga style. The result is a more organic sound and a greater stress on the quality of vocalist. It's these artists who are pushing the genre's bubble.

In conjunction with this column, the online version (at www.newcitychicago.com) has a smattering of recommendations attached. Because downloading music has become a way of life for the computer literate, songs take precedent over full-length records. Also, I'm excluding rocksteady and ska—those are subjects for an entirely different discussion. And contrary to popular belief, drug enhancement is not required for proper enjoyment.

The below are meant to deliver an even-handed assortment of each type of reggae. I've gone out of my way to try and select different artists from each genre who contribute something a little diverse.

In terms of dub, I've only listed three dub tracks, because it's the part of reggae I'm least familiar with. A few 100-percent, sure fire full-lengths: Guidance Recordings "Hi Fidelity Dub" records (Volumes one, two and three)—can't go wrong.

Note: Asterisks indicate the best of the best.

Roots:
**Dr. Alimantado "I Killed the Barber"
Dr. Alimantado, "Gimme Mi Gun"
**Dr. Alimantado, "Can't Conquer Natty Dreadlocks"
**Max Romeo and the Upsetters, "I Chase the Devil"
**Peter Tosh, "You Can't Fool Me Again" (really a rocksteady song, but borderline)
Mike Brooks, "Oh Oh Natty Dread"
Carlton Livingston, "Don't Cuss Rasta"
**Viceroys, "Jah Oh Jah"
Barrington Levy, "Captivity"

Dancehall:
Sean Paul, "Hot Gal Tonight"
Sister Nancy, "Bam Bam"
**Whitey Don, "Murderer"
Lady G, "Nuff Respect"
Beres Hammond and Cutty Ranks, "Love Mi Haffi Get"
Glen Washington, "One of These Days"
**Walter Saw, "Gang War"
**Shaggy and Rayvon, "Big Up"

Conscious Dancehall:
**Big Youth, "Isaiah, The First Prophet of Old"
Capleton, "Nah Bow"
Junior Kelly, "Sunshine"
Luciano, "Can't Stop Jah Works"
Garnett Silk, "Every Knee Shall Bow"
**Morgan Heritage and Bounty Killer, "Guns in the Ghetto"
Sizzla, "Homeless"
**Sizzla, "Azanldo"

Dub:
**Scratch Perry and the Upsetters, "Roast Fish and Cornbread"
Impact All-Stars, "Oh Jah Dub"
Nick Holder, "Moments in Dub"

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