Pass the Aux at CUP: An Intimate Evening with Tarrus Riley
- Keisha

- Feb 18
- 3 min read

You already know, when you see me, I’m always reppin’ Ask Blondie TV.
As I stepped into Coffee Uplifts People (CUP) on the corner of Gates Avenue, the room was buzzing. Not noisy, just filled with great energy. Conversations were flowing, greetings moving across the space, and the music sat right underneath everything so you could feel it without it taking over.
Among the familiar faces in the building were Syntyche and Bobby Clarke of Irie Jam Radio and Peter Tulloch, owner of Crown Hill Theatre, along with other creatives and community figures moving comfortably through the space.

DJ Dangelz was moving through classic reggae selections, keeping the atmosphere steady. People reacted quietly, a nod here, a smile there, settling in with coffee, drinks, and food coming out of the kitchen like nobody was in a rush for anything to start.
About thirty minutes later, Tarrus Riley walked in. No announcement, no separation. He just entered and started greeting people, hugs, handshakes, short conversations, taking his time around the room.
Roughly twenty minutes after that, Tony Forte and Angela Yee, owners of CUP, welcomed everyone and explained how the evening came together, curated by Ronnie Tomlinson and WhereItzAt Magazine in collaboration with CUP, shaping Pass the Aux: The Living Room Experience as a listening environment rather than a performance showcase.
We turned toward the screen.

A stripped-down live session played, Tarrus and the band, raw and close. When it ended, he asked if we understood the meaning behind the song. The hesitation said enough.
He spoke about losing his sister during COVID and shared that, although he didn’t leave things unresolved with her, the loss reinforced how easily time can remove the chance to fix differences. His message was simple, you may not always get the opportunity to make amends, so cherish the people in your life while you still can.
The room quieted differently after that. Heads nodded in agreement, and from beside me I overheard someone say, “You know what… it’s true. I’m gonna call my brother.” In that moment, the message wasn’t just heard, it landed.
As the conversation unfolded, DJ Dangelz transitioned into Tarrus Riley selections, letting the music and discussion move together. Guided by Christopher Williams, he spoke about his father’s influence, the mentorship of Dean Fraser, and why elders and younger creatives need each other instead of competing. He reflected on receiving Jamaica’s Order of Distinction and what being honored by home meant to him.

Then came a spontaneous moment. Tarrus began vibing into “She’s Royal” a cappella, and the room followed immediately, a breakout sing-along where the audience filled in the lyrics without hesitation.
Later, an audience member and local business owner shared that her favorite song was “My Day,” mentioning her three-year-old knows the words by heart, bringing laughter and appreciation across the room.
At one point he said he doesn’t call supporters fans, he calls them family. In that space, it fit.

During the Q&A, I had the chance to speak. I reminded him of years earlier sharing the stage at Bushmen and Friends at Amazura alongside Dean Fraser, and told him to keep giving us the music, that he remains one of the gems of the diaspora. It was a full-circle moment, artist to artist.
Angela Yee also asked about creatives using their voice during political moments. Tarrus answered calmly, speak if you have something to say, but every message isn’t yours to deliver. Another question touched on his foundation, and he emphasized guidance from elders as direction.
Eventually he stepped out, but the room didn’t empty. Conversations continued, people lingered, and the music stayed gentle a little longer.
It didn’t feel like an event ending.It felt like a moment finishing.





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