A&E

With his long hair, easy presence and Jamaican accent, junior Dimitri Wijisinghe could easily be mistaken for a native of the Caribbean. But this aspiring reggae artist hails from an island on the other side of the world—Sri Lanka.

Born to Sri Lankan parents in Brooklyn, New York, Wijisinghe was raised in Flatbush, a predominantly Caribbean neighborhood. He would listen to his father’s old records, growing up on reggae staples such as Bob Marley and Dennis Brown. Drawing inspiration from his musical heroes, he began writing his own songs in seventh grade.

Now, only four years later, Wijisinghe’s career has begun to take off. The aspiring reggae artist regularly performs in such venues as Carlito’s Café, Tell Astorya and the Everything Goes Book Café. He has recently finished compiling his first album, “The Revolution,” which he will soon release independently as an unsigned artist, paying for the full cost out of his own pocket.

“The album is a collection of positive vibes,” Wijisinghe said. “Some songs protest social issues, some just give thanks to Jah, some are just dancehall songs you can move to. But the message is to stay positive and live righteously.”

Wijisinghe can easily recall the first time he played in front of a live audience at Carlito’s Café in Harlem. “The club owners had had some reggae at the club before, and they knew a thing or two about reggae,” Wijisinghe said. “I was second on the list, so I was pretty nervous, but I just went up on stage and started talking to the crowd. There were a couple of drunk guys in the front who kept randomly shouting ‘Jah Rastafari!’ at the beginning but, all things considered, I think it helped build the vibe.”

At the beginning of Wijisinghe’s career, his songs usually dealt with his Christian faith. However, the strong Rastafarian presence in his community eventually led him towards learning more about the religion, which considers former Ethiopian emperor Haile Selassie “Jah/Jah Rastafari” or God. The religion’s messages of peace and equality began to attract Wijisinghe. In ninth grade, he decided to convert to Rastafarianism, but his Christian father and Buddhist mother initially disapproved.

“You could hear my parents’ yells from miles away,” Wijisinghe said. “Naturally, my parents disagreed with my conversion but [eventually] accepted it as a part of who I am.”

Wijisinghe doesn’t record at a studio, but instead composes his music using “Reason” (a music mixing and recording program), a microphone, his piano and his laptop. His use of the computer and the keyboard represents a new wave of reggae that embraces the use of modern technology to make music. His songs are mostly based on his political views and Rastafarian faith. Wijisinghe expresses ideas of pacifism and tolerance as well as his love and devotion to Jah: “It’s always black and white/or right and wrong/till we all kill each other and there’s no one left around.”

“Reggae has always been very politically and socially conscious,” Wijisinghe said. “That’s one of the things that first drew me to it.”

Wijisinghe has found it somewhat difficult to share his passion for reggae with other Stuyvesant students. “Most of the people I talk to don’t really listen to reggae, and some of them don’t even know that there is such a genre,” Wijisinghe said. “Someone came up to me [after one performance] and was like ‘Yo, that song was mad hot—what language was it in?’.” However, he has made some headway, regularly performing at Open Mic and other events that feature student performances, such as the recent St. Jude Children’s Hospital Fundraiser.

Wijisinghe desires to reach out to those who don’t typically listen to reggae, largely based on his frustration with the media’s portrayals of the genre. “I feel that reggae has been excessively associated with just ganja [marijuana] and just Jamaican people,” Wijisinghe said. “I want to show the world that [reggae] is for all people, from all races and all walks of life.”

Wijisinghe, however, has no intentions of compromising his values for the sake of going mainstream. “[Going mainstream] doesn’t mean, however, that I will adjust my message to fit the commercial market,” he said.

The idea of a Sri Lankan Bob Marley hopeful may be odd to some, but Wijisinghe’s ideas about music transcend racial boundaries. “At the end of the day, if you’re a musician, it’s all about your music,” he said.