 Dr.
Israel Presents Dreadtone International: Patterns of War, ROIR,
2005
www.roir-usa.com
Rating: A
Dr. Israel again. Remember his first? Inna City Pressure? Astonishing
musical vision. This is follow-up. Patterns of War. Almost as good.
Track number one. Simple piano riff. Forceful, clipped singing. Repetitive
melody line. Skankin’ good rhythm. Textured electronic trickery. Bass
like molasses. (Thick, dark, rich.) Lyrics about escape.
The second track. Potent African feel. But definitely reggae. Highly
political lyrics.
Next track (three). Deep, slow rhythm. Wandering and furtive. Dub influences
abound. Singing very soulful. “I’m left behind.” Drone creates tension.
Slowly ebbs away.
Track four now. Quicker and lighter. Dramatically contrasting voices.
Rhythmic, catchy chant. Not much tune. Great feel though. Singer wants
Sensemilla.
On to five. Slow, sticky one-drop. Spooky, oppressive, paranoid. Strange
electronic textures. Dispassionate, disembodied vocal. Yet very involving.
Track numero six. Up for air. Graceful female voice. Emphatic piano chords.
Busy, nimble percussion. Nice, refreshing feel.
We’re at seven. Slow, minimal percussion. Frugal, dubful reggae. “Sufferer”
vocal mannerisms. “Dread Inna Babylon.”
Now at eight. Shifting singing styles. Ululating at first. Then kinda
bouncy. Finally almost normal. Ground keeps moving. Works really well.
Nine is next. “Patterns of war.” Leisurely, deliberate chant. Then it
changes. Breathless dancehall chatter. “Violence beget destruction.” Turns
into dub. Repeated keyboard phrases. Repeated vocal phrases.
Ten, eleven, twelve. Dub, dub, dub. Echoing vocal snatches. Neat electronic
effects. Beeps and whooshes. “Still seeking answers.”
End of album.
Patterns of War. Highly
imaginative music. Unique and wonderful. Go get it.
 Trumystic:
Dub Power, tmg Records, 2 CDs, 2005
www.trumystic.net
Rating: A
I wasn’t impressed at all with Stand Up, a Trumystic EP that came
my way last year. It had four different mixes of a pop-dance hit single,
and it did nothing for me. Zip.
That was last year. This is this year, and Dub Power, a Trumystic
double CD set (only half of which is really dub, despite the title), has
come my way. To say that its creativity and artistry impress me is an
understatement; it does practically everything for me that’s worth doing
but brush my teeth and take the dog for a walk. It amuses, enthralls,
challenges. It’s foreground music and background music. It moves my body
and entertains my mind. I even love the unassuming cover design, the opposite
of its forerunner’s gaudiness.
I like it from the snorting, growling beginning of the piano-pounding
instrumental first track of Disk 1. Further inside, I like the strong-willed
female vocal enchanting us with a melody line so inspired it seems inevitable,
and with lyrics so uncommon they require attention (“must have been the
fear that incited them”). In fact I like the power-pop vocal approach
generally, the firm grooves, and especially the convincing, gorgeous seventh
track with its supple lead vocal that gracefully shifts from a “Sanctus,
Sanctus” religious chant to a “Babylon chant dem down” reggae chant. I
am in awe.
I like the musical allusions to classic reggae tunes and the lyrical
allusion to the Book of Ecclesiastes (“a time to fight, a time to heal”).
The bouncy Bo Diddley/reggae blend in “Foxy” is immensely likeable too.
And of course I like the whole second disk with its dubs of most of the
first, starting with the angular, disjointed rhythm of “High Times.”
That’s a lot of likes. What don’t I like? Nothing.
Zip. (Except the Mad Professor mix of the aforementioned “Stand Up” single
– and even that is tolerable in the inventive context of the whole album.)
This is original, contemporary reggae that pushes at the edges of its
genre. Like it? I love it.
 Nazarenes:
Songs of Life, Heartbeat, 2004
www.nazarenes.nu
Rating: A-
First impression: Armed only with the knowledge that “Nazarenes” denotes
a couple of brothers from Ethiopia who play reggae, I popped Songs
of Life excitedly onto my CD player. I don’t know what I expected,
but whatever it was, it didn’t quite correspond with what I heard. What
I heard seemed not that much different in lyrics or music from what I
had heard countless times before, from Jamaican artists. But it was okay.
Second impression: Armed with the knowledge that it wasn’t all that different,
I popped this disk a second time onto my CD player. I realized it was
good reggae. Quite good, in fact.
Third impression: Armed with the knowledge that this was quite good reggae,
I gave it another go. Wow. I started hearing the beautiful, haunting harmonies
and the soulful vocals. I realized I was being drawn into each song by
inventive intros and kept interested by sparkling arrangements. Some of
my all-time favorite reggae artists came pleasantly into mind here and
there: the urgency and the bible story themes of The Twinkle Brothers,
for example, and the long, careful phrasing of Ijahman Levi. The tracks
had suddenly become highly individualized, signaling that each song was
unique and coherent in itself. I was flabbergasted. How had I missed all
this before?
I had missed it all, of course, because my original expectations of Nazarenes
were both vague and unrealistic. Did I expect total uniqueness in the
music? Or special insight in the lyrics? Why should I? Just because they
are from the homeland of homelands in Africa?
Once I let go of what isn’t there, I could appreciate what is there.
That includes some fearsome rhythms, a smidgeon of dub, a pretty country
and western song, nice falsetto harmonies and instrumentation that ranges
from strummed guitar to chugging guitar to jazzy brass licks to gentle
flute to crackling percussion to orchestral bits. And above all, songs
that are well written and well delivered.
Final and lasting impression: Songs of Life
is wonderfully satisfying reggae. Listen carefully, skank heartily.
 Anthony
B.: My Hope, Minor7Flat5, 2005
www.minor7flat5.com
Rating: A-
Anthony B. has one of those pushy, insistent, pompous voices that loves
the dancehall. That’s fine; I’m not complaining. But the truly fine thing
about My Hope is that his vocal texture and technique fit so beautifully
with the harmony voices in the back. Or is it vice versa? Anyway, the
arrangements – and it’s much the same approach throughout – are centered
on this potent juxtaposition. Of course there’s guitar, horns, drums and
bass as well, but the vocals are the real treat.
The lyrics convey the usual narrow assortment of topics: In the first
track the singer is very insistent that “my hope is in you.” In the second
he lists various countries, religions and races in his entreaty for “global
awareness.” Then he asks “Mr. Officer” to stop harassing him, pleading
for good sensemilla. He gets help from Mark Wonder on the pretty and engaging
“Don’t Cry” for a double dose of reassurance to the female love object.
The album is starting to gel now. In the powerful “Strong Shoulder,”
Anthony B. praises his woman’s strength and devotion. The thumping, resolute
percussion of “Jah Alone,” aided by its call and response structure, builds
momentum until the abrupt end; it’s a goodie. But even that is surpassed
by the adventurous and captivating “Dancehall Thing,” which combines quick
dancehall rhythm and vocal with a sprightly classical motif. “Watch Over
My Head” gives the background singers a bigger role than ever, coming
in for the whole of each memorable chorus. The fine “Girl Look Fine” has
the only truly solo performance here, while Gentleman guests on “Face
Off” for a catchy chatter/singer combo. “Rise Up” is another winner, adding
Taffari’s slightly cramped but effective vocal style to the mix. “Crown
I” starts with minimal arrangements, then expands into the fuller sound
typical of this disk. A vamping piano drives the final tune through its
social commentary about how “she” is in love with a dreadlocks but her
momma disapproves.
Which reminds me; I had started to comment on
the lyrics but got sidetracked. Ah well, that’s the danger when the subject
matter is so predictable. You too will forget what Anthony B. and his
guests are actually saying on this one, but you will remember it for the
great vocal work and impressive musical hooks.
 Ska
Cubano: ¡Ay Caramba!, Casino Sounds, 2005
www.skacubano.com
Rating: A-
¡Ay Caramba! is a worthy follow-up to Ska Cubano’s first album
and is much like it: big and brassy, so confident it’s impetuous, so brash
it’s almost belligerent. It’s tuneful, wild and adventurous, proudly retro
and mostly fast. “Look at me,” it hollers, careering playfully down the
crowded skaway, mixing genres as it goes.
The arrangements make the most of the obviously joyful mass of humanity
that gathered together as musicians for these recording sessions. Yes,
there’s quite a bunch of people here – but they all seem to find their
own individual, enthusiastic spots in the mix. In other words, it’s a
crowd, but not a horde.
As for the tunes, the track selection is close to inspired. A smattering
of melodic originals fit perfectly with the rest, which arise (as on album
one) from sources both obscure and not quite so. With authority and humor,
the liner notes explain them all: this one from Tin Pay Alley, that one
from a 1941 movie, the next from 1950’s Cuba. An old reggae favorite is
in here too, more or less: “Sammy Dead” comes back to life (appropriately
enough) here as “Natty No Dead.”
I describe the track selection as “close to inspired,” because “Big Bamboo”
really sticks out (wink wink, nudge nudge) as a pretty lame choice. Maybe
it’s a popular choice at their concerts – I can just imagine someone hollering
“Play Big Bamboo!” (probably the same dunce who yelled at the Gypsy Kings,
“Hey, do Volare.”) So the arrangement was likely already down pat with
the song ending up on the album almost by default. In comparison, “Chispa
Tren” is an off-the-wall and absolutely superb choice; it’s a “jolly 1920’s
choo choo train cartoon theme,” to quote the liner notes. In contrast
to “Bamboo,” the world needed this one.
On balance, I have to consider ¡Ay Caramba!
another scintillating, joyful success. On top of which, it has one
of the dirtiest wickedest trombones since Kid Ory. Thanks, guys.
 Ras
Shaggai: I Awake, Conscious Vision Records
www.rasshaggai.com
Rating: B+
Ras Shaggai is definitely awake. He is thoughtful and responsive. He
may not quite have focused yet, but he is awake. And in his wakefulness
he has created a diverse collection of excellent reggae songs.
Sounds of water and birdsongs introduce I Awake, evoking the beauty
and purity of nature. Breaking into an upbeat rhythm and melody, the lead
track becomes a statement of purpose, a sample of the vibrant music and
optimistic lyrics to come. “Live positive because …there’s too much anger
in the world,” the singer pleads.
Ras Shaggai’s straightforward lyrics continue into the title song, clearly
enunciated as though he really wants us to understand and share his enthusiasm.
Its tune and arrangement are framed to give him plenty of time to express
himself: “I give greetings unto the rising sun/ For it signifies that
another day’s begun/The sun teaches an important lesson…” That track is
followed by a gorgeous ballad that has Chevelle Franklin’s soulful vocals
sharing the spotlight.
And so it continues. Sweet, mostly memorable melodies. Intelligent (if
often naïve) lyrics. Expert musicianship. Arrangements that are sensitive
and relaxed where appropriate, urgent and up-tempo when the song requires.
If there’s a weak point conceptually, it’s in the hodge-podge feel; if
there’s a weak point musically, it’s the song praising reggae, which like
most other songs about reggae is pleasant, well-meaning, innocuous and
forgettable.
But there are many high points. “Respect” may be the album’s tour de
force with a simple but strong melody line, uncompromising lyrics and
some of reggae’s star instrumentalists on board. There’s a lovely slow,
humble hymn to Jah Rastafari that uses orchestral backing and perfectly
attuned hand drumming. Juxtaposed to that is the bouncing groove of “Pressure
Cooker,” featuring gruff toast and horns. The sociopolitical diatribe
“Double Standard” has powerful lyrics and vocals carried along by a stinging
electric guitar. Then there’s “Raw Riddim,” which is an accurate description
of itself. The most moving track, though, may be the album closer, the
second of two unlisted add-ons; it’s a heartfelt acoustic remake of “When
the Children Cry” with hand drums, strummed guitar and piano backing.
So the album ends with an evocation of innocence
and purity, a reminder of how it started. Along the way lie songs of beauty
and warmth, of energy, excitement and challenge. Although somewhat unfocused,
I Awake is a truly accomplished first album by a truly talented
artist.
 Jah
Works: Hard to Find, Riddim House Productions, 2005
www.jahworks.com
Rating: B+
Jah Works’ last album, the live one, was okay, but it was at a disadvantage.
It was a live album.
But Hard to Find is much more than okay, in fact it’s downright
good. Not being a live album helps, but even more significant are the
vivid vocals, pulsating arrangements, strong rhythms and appealing tunes.
The disk starts on a high with the effervescent and very catchy “Moses,”
a plea for a new leader who can lead us all to the promised land, “…because
truly that’s who we need right now”. Following is another winner, “Guide
and Protect,” which made me wonder if Steely Dan had suddenly started
doing reggae; it’s a sophisticated sound with strings and horns, the full
arrangement. After that is the up-tempo, bubbling “False Kings” with a
wonderfully childlike, singsong melody.
“Jamaica” expresses a realistic appreciation for Jamaica’s true beauty.
“Struggle” features deejay-style chanting, and “Whatcha Gonna Do” offers
a touch of UB40. The title track has a kinda lonesome horn solo in the
left speaker as the singer pleads with his girl. “Long Journey” includes
the great line, “It’s a long long journey, Mr. Topsy-Turvy, don'tcha loose
your grip” and gets dubbish late in the song. “Let It Go” is a refreshingly
candid, non-emotive treatment of a love affair, while “Dub Steady” spends
four and a half minutes doing as the title suggests, then brings the album
to an end in an electronic crescendo.
So I like the way that Hard to Find
begins, the way it progresses, and the way it ends. There’s no pandering
to the crowd, no distracting entreaties to sing along or wave a hand in
the air, no distracting cheering from the audience. The only applause
is the silent kind, the sound of appreciation in the mind of the happy,
enchanted listener.
 Linval
Thompson: Inna De Yard, Makasound, 2005
www.innadeyard.com
Rating: B
“Where you want to live?/Natty dread want to live in the hills/Where
the morning sun shining so bright and sweet/Where the cool cool breeze
blowing…”
Sounds like a treat, yes? These first words to the first song on Linval
Thompson’s Inna De Yard describe pretty well what the album represents,
what it wants to achieve and how it sounds. If you know Thompson primarily
from his classic output of 30 years ago, this might come as a shock, or
a treat, or both.
As the liner notes proudly proclaim, this “outdoor
acoustic session” was “recorded in Chinna’s yard, Kingston 10, November
2004 by Jah Clive.” This is a clear invitation for the would-be purchaser
to enjoy reggae that is about as musically direct and unprocessed as it
comes. Apparently this release
signals a series of similarly conceived efforts
from other artists – very welcome news.
We’ve heard acoustic reggae before: notably Bob Marley singing and strumming
to a medley of his tunes as featured on Songs of Freedom, and more
recently Clinton Fearon’s solo performances on Mi an’ Mi Guitar .
Various other artists have certainly also had individual “unplugged” tracks
on the occasional album. But Thompson’s music has a fuller sound than
Marley’s and Fearon’s and most of the rest, thanks to the (non-electric)
band behind him.
The organic throb of nyahbinghi drumming gives the music weight and substance.
The inherent dignity of the style is perfect for the meditative and spiritual
songs, and it suits even the social protest songs. But it’s overkill on
“Ease Up,” in which Linval rambles on and on over a basic blues riff about
making love to his lady where he thinks the neighbors might hear: “Ease
up baby, you’re holding me too tight; you’re screaming out too loud.”
Methinks solemnity and sex don’t fit well together.
What this album does balance extraordinarily
well is friendliness with intensity. Meaning I find it very comfortable
to listen to – for a while. Then the intensity – or is it the lack of
dynamics? – makes me want to get away for a breather. I say that not as
a criticism, but as an observation, and whenever that happens I do come
back to it later, eagerly. I suspect you will too: morning sun shining
bright and sweet, cool breeze blowing – you know you want it, even if
not ALL the time.
 Truths
and Rights: Live Up, Big Wig Productions, 2005
www.truthsandrights.com
Rating: B
Toronto has been a notable dot on the reggae map since Leroy Sibbles
and the late Jackie Mittoo settled there many moons ago. Truths and Rights
has been a notable presence on that dot for almost as long, i.e. since
the early 1980s, and the band figures prominently in the chapter on Canadian
reggae in Klive Walker's recent book “Dubwise.” So as you can guess, they
know their stuff. They have the licks.
They also have talent. Their songwriting is generally strong, and their
performances are authoritative and entertaining. But for me the primary
appeal of their music – or at least of their new album Live Up
– is not the overall professionalism on display, but the simple, much-used
and very appealing modus operandi of singer-deejay combo. Again and again
they use the technique, sounding fresh every time. The love song “Ah You”
is a perfect example of how it works: the sung vocal is gentle and urgent
while the chanting is positively exultant.
What else does the album offer? It has a wonderful flow. An exciting
dancehall tune is balanced by a dreader, rootsier track. A gorgeous tune
with pleading vocal and pensive guitar stands in contrast to the next
track’s choppy rhythm and quote from The Beatles. A live track praising
Jah Rastafari is delivered in a growly voice revved up to frantic level,
pulsating and bombastic; but then, to bring us smoothly back down from
that peak and ease us out of the album, comes a relatively old-fashioned
kind of dub. The balance of all those elements keeps us interested, keeps
us listening.
On the down side, some of the arrangements are of the overly safe, generic
kind, reflecting the norm for contemporary reggae. The subject matter
is pretty standard reggae fare too, and too often the lyrics themselves
are clichéd.
But the positive outweighs the negative at least
two to one. Truths and Rights has given us the kind of solid, compelling,
entertaining music that befits their status as stalwarts on the Toronto
reggae scene. And no-one beats them in the singer/deejay game.
 Joseph
Israel: Gone Are The Days, Lions of Israel, 2005
www.lionsofisrael.com
Rating: C+
There’s a whole lot of reggae here – a lot of very good reggae. Original
melodies that stick pleasantly, musicianship that is vigorous and skilled,
arrangements that are serviceable and occasionally creative, a lead singer
whose voice is adequate for the job if not exactly beautiful. Chinna Smith
is on hand, along with Squidley Cole and Sticky Thompson; David Madden
and Dean Fraser show up here and there, as do Mikey General and Luciano
briefly. Lots of talent, making pleasant sounds.
There’s also quite a pile of lyrics here. Lyrics about …well, let’s take
a sample from each song. Track one: “That’s why we say Babylon must burn.”
Track two: “…come along and chant down Babylon.” Three: “Judgement pon
Babylon gonna be dread.” Four: “There will be no oppression in Jah’s kingdom.”
Five: “None of the false doctrines of Babylon could save you from this
coming calamity.” Six: “Hotta fyah must burn, burn/And the children will
learn, learn.” Seven: “The righteous they will never give up/Chant until
Babylon erupt.”
Still with me? Just checking. For all I know, right now you might be
writhing in agony as you-know-what burns all around you. Assuming you’re
still okay, let’s see what else is on Joseph Israel’s mind.
Eight: “Babylon city shall be trampled.” Nine: “Lift your minds to the
regions in a Zion.” Ten: “Jah alone wears the crown.” Eleven: “The tribulation
that is at hand, the destruction of all nations.” Twelve: “Babylon your
fun soon done/Babylon see the fire a burn.” Thirteen: “…in the last days
man would be caught up in careless ways.”
It’s called thematic unity, I guess. One of the songs is actually a love
song (yes, romantic love), but the burning message got in anyway. Whew.
This guy Israel has been reading the Book of Revelation, and like various
other believers over the last couple of thousand years, he knows that
the end is imminent. Any day now.
So, although the lyrics may be a tad single-minded,
the music itself is just fine. I’ll keep going back to the album once
in a while for that. Until I’m consumed, that is.
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