Rae Town, the central Kingston fishing village renowned for rootsy reggae dances and informal dining delights, is a lot quieter nowadays. But an undercurrent of discontent is rumbling.

The economic and social reper-cussions of the enforcement of the Noise Abatement Act against the popular Sunday night old-hits sessions are beginning to resonate.

The police clampdown has sliced into business profits, say merchants, and the action is fomenting fury.

"Everybody inherit from it, people from all Village Farm, all 'bout, come to this community to mek money," said Kevin, one of several business interests who refused to share their full name with the press.

"Me park the car dem out deh, and without the old-hits session, me cyaah park no car. Everybody hustle a food."

For decades, the sessions went on in contravention of the law, but for the last several months, the operators have had to adhere to legislation which bans music events beyond 2 a.m.

"It nah disturb no one, it nah disturb (Manley) Meadows, it nah disturb Rae Town citizen dem," said Kevin, a 26-year-old father of three.

"When you come to Rae Town Old Hits, there is no crime, nobody not doing you anyt'ing ... . It send me to school."

The sessions have been hosted from before Kevin was born. Claiming he didn't enjoy a "big education", Kevin feels like a fish out of water, as the sessions are now held every two weeks. As a result, he said he has suffered a significant shortfall in earnings.

More criticism

His lament was supported by Latoya, a fish vendor and old-hits hustler. Latoya, who also declined to give her full name, could not hold back criticism.

"Mi get mi tea, lunch and dinner a Old Hits. More Old Hits, we want it every week. A Old Hits my son get him lunch money from. Yeah, a out deh my mother sell," said the bottle collector.

Nalda, 39, and mother of four, is another 'victim' of the enforcement. She argued that the musical event formed the basis of bread-and-butter issues such as schooling her children, and kept alive the vibe of the low-income community.

"No war nuh gwaan yah so when Old Hits time. A nuff people vex how it just die out like that," she explained, pointing to some of the children who had no lunch money to go to school. Narda said she has been going to Old Hits since she was a little girl.

As the discussion heated up in the community, up walked a woman who called herself 'Ginger Charmaine', with a cup of liquor in her hand. "It nice, all now mi nuh work yet, I earn off o' Old Hits by dancing ... Mi sell mi fish too," said Charmaine, who is now currently unemployed.

Rae Town is a community bereft of social amenities and employment opportunities. Fishing is the major source of income, but not everyone can be a fisherman. Incomes are supplemented by activities associated with the old-hits sessions. Much of the money earned at the sessions is used to buy fish for resale, while some is used by fishermen to buy gas for their boats.

Now, some are saying they are stranded on the beach. But Kevin is concerned that with the crackdown on sessions, youths - with negligible education and skills - will turn to crime.