In a scene often defined by birthplace and legacy, Colombian-born Ras Mista Fyah is steadily carving out his own lane in the global roots-reggae arena — not as a tourist in the genre, but as a true disciple of its spiritual and sonic essence.
Since the release of his fourth studio album Infinity in August, Ras Mista Fyah has ignited a campaign fueled by purpose, performing alongside roots heavyweight Mykal Rose and speaking to global media about the mission that drives his music. Now based in Miami, his energy has intensified, with his gaze fixed firmly on the mecca — Jamaica.
But for Ras Mista Fyah, setting foot in Kingston won’t be a novelty. “This isn’t a visit,” he said passionately. “This is me coming home to reggae, not as a stranger, but as one of its sons. I want the world to feel that.”
Raised in Bogotá, his earliest musical encounters were steeped in the voices of Bob Marley, Aswad, Gregory Isaacs, Black Uhuru, and Dennis Brown — not background noise, but gospel. Infinity, produced by Argentina’s Fela Roland, distills that lifelong devotion into a 9-track offering deeply rooted in the old-school roots reggae tradition.
The album’s foundation is strengthened by iconic contributors: Inner Circle’s Bernard “Touter” Harvey lays down classic keys, while veteran bassist Dennis Burt (Garnet Silk, Buju Banton, Ky-Mani Marley) infuses the record with the authentic heartbeat of Jamaica’s golden era.
Now, Infinity is in the running among over 70 submissions vying for a Grammy nomination for Best Reggae Album. While the official nod is still pending, the recognition is a watershed moment for Ras Mista Fyah — not just as an artist, but as a torchbearer for reggae’s global resonance.
“To even be under Grammy consideration — it’s a blessing,” he reflects. “It’s not just for me, but for everyone who has walked with me through the music, through the message. This is years of sacrifice. Years of breathing reggae.”
The Recording Academy is set to reveal its final nominations on November 7 — and whether or not Infinity makes the cut, Ras Mista Fyah has already planted his flag: not on the fringes of reggae, but within its sacred fire.
