Throwback Thursday: Max Romeo’s ‘Chase The Devil’
While unwavering tenacity, defiance and righteous purpose are themes that effortlessly prevail in Roots Reggae, they can just as easily describe Max Romeo’s 1976 classic hit, Chase The Devil – this week’s song to be remembered on Throwback Thursday.
At the time of the song’s release, Jamaica had been in the throes of violent and widespread political conflict. As civil and political unrest peaked in that period, a few things had become obvious: The violence wouldn’t soon end; courage against the rising tide of negativity had been waning, and, for all the talks of ideals, there were not many people willing to pursue theirs in such a tense climate. Not Max Romeo, though.
A political activist in his own right, Romeo penned and released Chase The Devil, his unflinching shot at the raging war, which doubled as a declaration of his commitment. By any means necessary, Max Romeo was hell-bent on driving the devil out, and this classic was among the first few things he did to accomplish that.
He begins the song with an intro that became almost as iconic as the song itself, having caught the favor of stars like Jay Z and Kanye in a few successful projects. His soulful and radical opening asserted:
“Lucifer: son of the morning,
I’m gonna chase you out of Eart’”
The opening is both biblical and obviously metaphorical and is an inspired stroke of songwriting by the former irrigation ditch cleaner.
Max’s reference to Lucifer as the ‘Son of the Morning’ is consistent with the description conferred on Christianity’s Devil in Isaiah 41:12, which states: “How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! how art thou cut down to the ground, which didst weaken the nations!”
The second part of the intro, ‘I’m gonna chase you out of Eart’ is a decision Max explained to BBC in 2011, as: “Chasing the devil means chasing the negativity out of humanity, and letting it be controlled by positive, which you would call God, then.”
For the rest of the song, Max’s reliance on the spiritual is both felt as the song’s anchor and its driver. This is made evident in the song’s refrain, which is littered with biblical and metaphorical references. It goes:
“I’m gonna put on a iron shirt
And chase Satan out of Eart’
I’m gonna put on a iron shirt
And chase the devil out of Eart’
I’m gonna send him to outer space
To find another race
I’m gonna send him to outer space
To find another race”
A man dedicated to the war he’s chosen to fight, it’s plausible that the ‘iron shirt’ Max refers to in the above is same being referenced in Ephesians 6:11 as the “armor of God” required to “stand against the wiles of the devil”. Whether he intended to communicate anything different, the refrain, echoed multiple times throughout the track, at least serves as a reminder of his commitment to the task before him of driving the devil out.
And, Max does not doubt his chance of victory in that fight – a stance which parted ways with the burdensome pessimism that shrouded Jamaica’s future at the time, despite a few good intentions by the political class.
He sings of the devil/evil:
“Him haffi drop Him fork and run
Him can’t stand up to Jah Jah son
Him haffi left yah with him gun
Dig off with him bum”
In another time, Chase The Devil may have easily slid into the category of Gospel music, particularly due to its overt themes of rejecting and fight against the devil. He continues his righteous war against the great evil, baring his intentions to fight fire with fire – to wage violence for violence, against its orchestrator.
Max squares his sights on the devil in the song’s first verse:
“Satan is a evilous man
But him can’t chucks it on I-man
So when I check him my, lass in hand
And if him slip, I gone wid him hand”
The verse maintains Max’s spirit of militancy all throughout, reaffirming his incorruptible nature. It also sheds light on how he perceives the temptation of the times, and by extension, the devil, pointing out that if the devil tries him, he’s not leaving the futile attempt unscathed (“I gone wid him hand”).
The rest of the iconic tune is more or less a crescendo of Max’s anger at the then state of things, and the lengths he may go to change them. He repeats the first verse and the refrain against the song’s haunting instrumentals, and takes the opportunity to say a few more fighting words to the devil. He basically calls the devil a bum, in characteristic fashion, and implores him and the evil he brings to leave earth.
The iconic track is produced by now-deceased legendary Reggae producer, Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry, and is a single from Max Romeo’s album, War Ina Babylon, released the same year.