How Jeremy Harding Turned A Roots Sample Into Beenie Man’s Global Anthem
Nearly three decades after its release, Beenie Man’s swaggering 1997 anthem Who Am I remains one of the most instantly recognizable records ever produced in Jamaica.
Drop the opening bars in a nightclub in Kingston, London, New York, Tokyo or Berlin and the reaction is almost always the same: instant recognition, instant movement and a crowd screaming along to one of dancehall’s most iconic opening lines: “Sim Simma, who got the keys to my Bimmer?”
For producer Jeremy Harding, the mastermind behind the legendary Playground riddim, the song’s enduring popularity isn’t accidental. It was born from a unique collision of Jamaican dancehall energy and New York hip-hop sensibilities that few producers were attempting at the time.
And it all started with an ‘uptown’ producer’s obsession for hip-hop.
Before becoming one of Jamaica’s most influential producers, Harding was spending his days in Montréal immersed in underground rap culture.
“I had a radio show on CKUT 90.3 FM at McGill Radio,” he told DancehallMag. “I played lots of hip-hop artists. The Roots was one of them.”
For five years, Harding lived and breathed the genre. He studied beats, dissected production techniques and absorbed the sample-heavy sound that defined East Coast hip-hop during the 1990s. When he eventually returned to Jamaica and began producing dancehall records, he initially tried doing things the traditional way.
At the time, most riddims were built around programmed drum machines and keyboard phrases.
“You would make your drum track and then call a keyboard player to phrase the riddim,” Harding explained. “Or do it yourself.”
The results left him uninspired. So he abandoned convention. Instead, he returned to the techniques he had learned from hip-hop. Sampling. Experimentation. Creative chaos. What Harding called “A little bit of this. A little bit of that.”
The Playground riddim emerged from that philosophy.
The riddim famously incorporates elements inspired by Section, a track from Philadelphia hip-hop pioneers The Roots’ acclaimed 1996 album Illadelph Halflife. Layered with booming 808 drums, thick bass textures and Harding’s unconventional production style, it sounded unlike anything else in dancehall at the time.
“Hip-hop relied on sampling a single note of something and spreading it across the keyboard at different pitches so you could play it like a regular instrument,” Harding said. “So there was that as well with maybe a bass sound, a snare sound, anything at all.”
Despite the mythology that has grown around the riddim, Harding is quick to point out that it wasn’t simply a collection of borrowed sounds.
“I did actually play the keyboard,” Harding explained. “It’s not just all a bag of samples and loops.”
Importantly, all sample clearances were handled properly.
“It was all documented and cleared,” Harding noted.
The Roots received publishing credit for the sample, creating an unexpected connection between one of hip-hop’s most respected groups and one of dancehall’s greatest hits.
Ironically, Harding has never actually seen The Roots perform live.
“No, I haven’t,” he laughed. “Only on TV.”
That changed slightly in recent years when a mutual acquaintance connected him with legendary Roots drummer and bandleader Questlove.
The conversation produced a surprising revelation.
“He sent a message saying it’s ironic that they never got accolades for their own music but they’ve gotten certifications on records that sampled their music,” Harding recalled.
Questlove’s response was anything but bitter. Instead, it was filled with admiration.
“He said to tell me big up and thanks for making a hit from one of their records.”
Harding responded with gratitude of his own. “I sent a message saying thank you actually. So I’ll take that as mutual respect.”
While the Playground riddim was revolutionary, it was Beenie Man who transformed it into history.
By 1997, the self-proclaimed King of the Dancehall was already one of Jamaica’s biggest stars. But Who Am I (Sim Simma) elevated him to another level entirely.
The song appeared on Beenie’s eighth album, Many Moods Of Moses, and helped him to earn his first Grammy Award nomination for Best Reggae Album.
The song’s combination of infectious melodies, playful lyricism, booming production and Beenie’s larger-than-life charisma proved irresistible.
Harding believes that’s why the record continues to outlive countless trends and viral moments. “Good music ultimately can’t be denied,” he said. “The people will tell you. Not paid promotion on social media channels.”
The formula, he argues, remains timeless.
“Good lyrics, a danceable beat, great melodies. All the ingredients for a hit song.”
And then there was Beenie himself.
“A charismatic superstar artist like Beenie Man who continues to make his presence felt on the back of the song and also keeps promoting it, keeping it in the forefront of Jamaican music culture.”
The results speak for themselves.
The single reached No. 10 on the UK Singles Chart, crossed over into mainstream America by peaking at No. 40 on the Billboard Hot 100 and, remarkably, was certified Gold in the United States in 2023 — more than 25 years after its original release.
Few dancehall songs can claim that level of longevity.
Fewer still can claim that level of global recognition.
And Harding is willing to defend its place in history.
“Before anyone starts quoting me Spotify numbers,” he said with a laugh, “tell me a bigger dancehall song in the world to this day in terms of popularity and impact.”
Then comes the challenge.
“I’ll walk with Who Am I on a USB stick and hand it to any deejay in any nightclub across the world and ask them to play it.”
His confidence never wavers.
“I guarantee there’s no other dancehall record that can surpass it, past or present.”
In an age obsessed with short-lived virality, Harding sees something far more valuable in the song’s legacy.
“I’d rather have that than a viral trending song that lasts one month and fades into obscurity any day.”
Nearly 30 years later, dancehall fans around the world seem to agree.
The keys to the Bimmer, it turns out, still open every dancefloor.