After a series of reversals in the late '70s (including a sanitorium stay and the closing of his legendary Black Ark studio in Kingston's Washington Gardens), Perry went to Amsterdam to live and record. But this potentially fruitful alliance was musically and financially disappointing for Perry, and he returned to Jamaica to take up various projects. A correspondent found him recording an album for Joe Gibbs in late 1981: "At the studio Lee had any number of small children who fiddled with instruments, the board, and headphones with alarming proficiency while the session went on. Occasionally Lee would space out and his wife would take over, doing much of the actual work. While singing, Scratch had laid out before him and around him the following items: Sagittarius horoscope, a small gold-painted statue of a lion, a set of hand exercise grips, a book on Buddhist yoga, a note pad full of lyrics, several Lee Perry records with weird phrases scrawled on the covers, a hammer, a pink plastic airplane, a grater, a book on space oddities and a couple of other objects that were beyond identification. He had a gym bag in the corner full of other personal talismans which I did not dare investigate. He wore a blue denim suit with the top open, a number of copper chains and ornaments, a blue guitar cord around his neck, and no shoes. During the session he stood on books and occasionally anointed his feet with some clear, sweet-smelling liquid from a small rum bottle. The session included several Bob Marley tunes, to which Lee improvised new lyrics. The phrase "Coconut Excalibur" was repeated frequently. Despite his eccentricity, Perry was very coherent in giving instructions to the musicians, and very demanding. He knew exactly what he wanted. His singing wounded like a Jamaican Curtis Mayfield on acid reading transcripts from Bellvue Hospital..."

In 1981, Scratch toured U.S. cities, fronting a white reggae band from New York called the Terrorists. Several people who caught the shows said they were the worst in reggae history. But no matter. We caught up with Scratch the day after his Boston show in the suburban home of the promoter. At six o'clock that morning the promoter had gotten a call from the local police, as panicked neighbors had reported a black man jogging through their exclusive neighborhood with a machete. It was Scratch. With us and his beautiful blond girlfriend as his rapt audience, Scratch began by interviewing us.