Pierpoljak is one of those musicians whose life doesn't seem to have come with a quiet chapter. The French reggae singer broke through in the late 1990s with Kingston Karma, an album he says sold around 600,000 copies. He's now past sixty and still playing to packed venues. He even jokes that he's often the oldest person at his own concerts. But don't mistake him for someone who's content to sit around reliving the old days. Jamaica still calls, there's always more music to make, and weed has never been far from the picture. He tells ZEWEED he smoked his first joints at about fifteen. A few years later, it had become a regular part of his life.
His Jamaican adventures sound like somebody wrote a reggae movie and forgot to tell the screenwriter when to stop. Pierpoljak reunited with producer Clive Hunt, a man he's made plenty of music with over the years. He calls Hunt a musical genius, although their partnership hasn't exactly been trouble-free. Money caused arguments. After a session, he'd often find himself sitting outside with whoever was still hanging around. Someone would roll a joint, another person would start telling a story, and before long the conversation had wandered miles away from music. Then there are his years at sea. Pierpoljak even says he once spent years sailing cannabis between Caribbean islands. Not your average anecdote from a promotional interview.
He doesn't pretend his relationship with cannabis has been entirely straightforward. Pierpoljak says weed has helped him find inspiration and moments to reflect, but he also knows his lungs haven't thanked him for it. His song Skabadeng captures some of that tension. It sounds like he's singing to a woman, when the complicated relationship he's describing is actually with weed. That's part of what makes him interesting. He can love cannabis without claiming it's perfect. With more music, live shows and a lifetime of stories behind him, Pierpoljak doesn't sound ready for a farewell tour just yet. Although someone could probably convince him to take the occasional afternoon off.
