A decade ago Miami was the reggae gateway to the United States. On any given weekend major acts like Third World, Inner Circle, or the Kinsey Report could be found playing in a park or at a club. Even Africa-based reggae stars (e.g. Alpha Blondy) came to play at the old Cameo on South Beach. Today there is not one club in Miami devoted to staging high-grade (or even mediocre) reggae acts. The spiritual, danceable, durable genre is dead to this town. Fortunately, right at the county line the Empire recently conducted a sort of three-beat charrette (with the Caribbean Association and reps from local universities) to improve and expand its already established mix of reggae and hip-hop weekends (mostly featuring DJs, though some bands have played the 400-capacity club). After the meeting, and following policy (any promoters are welcome to offer their product to the club, and many are accepted), the Empire plans to book more and more live reggae. Besides the joy that news brings to many hearts and minds (and ears), it should make the owners rich considering the sickening lack of competition. Robert Nesta must be spinning as he looks down on the city where he died and sees (or hears, really) -- not much.