Last night, Red Stripe, the Jamacian Lager manufacturer, sponsored a free show for dancehall singer Terry Lynn along with Johan Hugo to promte their EP It Was Written. The venue had a gigantic, even intimidating line outside, but inside there was a modestly sized crowd with plenty of empty space. It dawned on me that the line’s deliberate creation was a ploy to establish the illusion of exclusivity. It would be a night of deliberate choices by the show's organizers with no one but the musicians leaving anything to chance. Red Stripe provided non-stop free beer for all attracting a healthy mix of music lovers and alcoholics.

A quick Google search revealed that It Was Written, (a five-song collaboration between Terry Lynn and Radioclit DJ Johan Hugo) is a digital only EP, and the EP itself was created under Red Stripe sponsorship. With the inevitable, pervasive influence of digital downloading, recorded music has become de-monetized, carrying the same financial value as a beautiful sunset, or the feeling of dipping your toes in the ocean on a hot summer’s day. Awesome, yes -- but not something you would spend money on. Consequently, an increasing number of artists are creating music on the corporate dime, in a financial exchange reminiscent of the patronage systems of the renaissance. Nas recently released a track featuring a beat made by the winner of a contest sponsored by Red Bull; Chris Brown’s song “Forever” was originally created to promote Doublemint Gum. I think that any music lover would be hesitant to concede that corporate sponsored music is a good thing, but the It Was Written tour reveals some potential benefits.

Last night's show was held in a dimly lit fifth floor loft, with white painted walls and hardwood floors. On one end of the room was a temporary black stage holding DJ equipment. Festooned throughout the room were gift sets of Red Stripe paraphernalia: a notepad which used the show’s flyer as a cover, pencils with Red Stripe info on them, even USB drives shaped like Red Stripe bottles.
Up first, Johan Hugo rocked the stage in a Michael Jackson Tribute t-shirt spinning Afro House, and driving Dancehall rhythms. Hugo was replaced by a lanky DJ wearing dark sunglasses in the already dark room who spun a similar blend, and at one point played a dub step remix of Kid Cudi’s “Day N’ Nite.” A small cluster of people danced in front of the stage, but most of the audience was too immersed in beer drinking and conversation to join in.

When Terry Lynn took the stage (also rocking the hot, new summer accessory of nighttime sunglasses), the crowd became significantly more attentive, pushing forward to get a closer look at the emerging star of dancehall music. Lynn's first song (with Hugo flipping the same Max Romeo sample as Jay-Z’s, "Lucifer") built into an intense electro club smash. Lynn is a beautiful, dark and graceful young woman with a powerful voice and a big range. Her music worked the previously lethargic crowd into a frenzy. The songs and energy did not let up for the entire short but sweet set, with Lynn getting the crowd to wave their hands back and forth during her song, “Jamaican Girls." Lynn displayed effortless poise, and natural stage presence, singing sweet a cappella between electrified songs. Lynn and Hugo closed things out with a dancehall version of Harry Belafonte’s “Shake, Shake, Senora.” It was a night of free beer and free music and maybe an advance look at a new business model in the record industry: free music with a corporate tag.