For many, the music of and inspired by Jamaica is synonymous with the summer season. All too… For many, the music of and inspired by Jamaica is synonymous with the summer season. All too often, however, people listen to one or two artists of this style and fail to explore the depth and originality of music derived from ska, the mother of the reggae genre.

But before Bob Marley reigned as Jamaica’s unofficial cultural ambassador, Desmond Dekker was the name most people associated with the island’s music. The raucous sound he produced relied on guitar upstrokes and a syncopated beat to offset his angelic voice.

The music is a bit rough for the 1960s, even with the piano and horn section, but Dekker’s voice comes out like that of a matured schoolboy. In contrast with the reggae trend toward slower tempos, the ska of this era was more closely associated with the R&B of Otis Redding, and it really does rock and sway while maintaining the same base elements of reggae .

Eventually, Dekker began to associate himself with a Jamaican subculture known as “rude boys,” a group whose members wore sharp suits — even in the sweltering Jamaican heat — and often involved themselves in delinquency around the culture of sound-system parties — impromptu parties where hosts play music from cars.

The song “007” is 1967 classic that not only formalized Dekker’s association with the rude boy culture but also introduced him to what would become one of the biggest markets for Jamaican music — the U.K., where the track reached No. 15 on the charts.

What Dekker didn’t anticipate was that in England, it wasn’t just Jamaican emigré buying his music. With his breakthrough song “Israelites,” he had a whole crowd of white English mods and skinheads listening too.

The track is an anthem of poverty sung through an optimistic smile. “Get up in the morning / slaving for bread, sir / so every mouth can be fed,” he croons before his band begins to slowly build a powerful jam around the words.

Although that work might have been the commercial height of Dekker’s career, he continued to influence Jamaica’s music. He performed around the world until his death in 2006.

In addition to other classic performers like Toots and the Maytals, Derrick Morgan and Millie Small — who had the first ska hit in America with 1964’s “My Boy Lollipop” — a trove of modern artists have brought ska quite successfully into the 21st century.

When Morgan needed a backup band around LA in 2002, two groups the  Vessels and the Rhythm Doctors got together and discovered that they had a lot in common. They eventually formed The Aggrolites and have been kicking out some of the best “dirty reggae” even since. The phrase is of their own invention, referring to the fact that their music is “dirty” with different elements from punk to calypso.

Turn on “Mr. Misery” from their Hellcat Records self-titled sophomore album, and you’ll wonder why this wasn’t the demo for the next club hit. Jesse Wagner sings with the voice of a bluesman in the best way and the rest of the group is so tightly woven that the bass lines seem to speak like a second voice and the organ undercuts the happy rhythm with vicious glee.

The Aggrolites’ Hellcat Records-labelmate Westbound Train takes it a little slower, but the group is nonetheless magnificent when it comes to interpreting Jamaican music. I first ran into “I’m No Different” on a compilation during high school. It still has the same magic today.

Originally released on Transitions in 2006, the piece is sublime. A gentle beat and tangy melodies strengthen the power of the chorus: “There’s a whole world dying and I’m no different / Well I can’t be different.”

Both of these groups were signed with the help of a ska enthusiast and successful musician in his own right named Tim Armstrong. In addition to being the guitarist for pioneering San Francisco ska band Operation Ivy and successful punk-rock group Rancid, he also released a solo record in 2006 that featured The Aggrolites backing him on a whole trove of ska-influenced anthems.

“Hold On” sounds a little cheesy at first — especially if you’ve heard Rancid’s rougher songs — but the twang of Armstrong’s serious lead guitar skills and the bump of The Aggrolites make it a hit. His ear’s good, there’s no doubt about that.

So when you’re looking for something solar and don’t feel like listening to Sublime or Bob Marley, take any of these masters for a sunny-day spin.