Sugar
Minott, "Wicked Ago Feel It"
[Wackies, 1984, re-released 2002]
"Wicked Ago Feel It" gets down to business immediately, and
the business is good, with the engaging, melodious sound of Sugar Minott
cruising effortlessly across time, his words lamenting the troubles of
the world. Think of The Mighty Diamonds on the "Right Time"
album, and be reminded of the understated power that beautiful voices
can convey as they calmly deliver a message that's somehow specific and
universal at the same time.
The relatively lush accompaniment of that first track has disappeared
by the time we get to the third track, the title song. Here the riddim
is spare and naked, perfectly framing the words of warning about all the
dire consequences facing the wicked folks out there. It's a fire and brimstone
message that may not actually change the behaviour of most listeners (his
admonitions are almost twenty years old, after all, and I've survived
so far), but if we need a revenge-sorry, retribution-theme, there's no
harm in making it as enjoyable as this one. "Freedom Train"
is another message song delivered over intermittent horns and an organ
riff: you don't need no ticket to ride, and you can leave your baggage
behind, because all you need is love in your heart. Listen for the subdued
"toot, toot" in the background harmony. The final song is Minott's
unembellished plea for universal repatriation to the motherland, delivered
with quiet conviction over nyahbingi drumming, which is always a welcome
and appropriate accompaniment to such a theme.
The other tracks are love songs, all five gorgeously sung, of course,
with refreshingly varied but comfortable arrangements. And if you've kept
track, that brings the grand total to nine. Nine tracks. Thirty-three
minutes and twenty-one seconds of music. That minor fact may make a difference
to you, if you're a bargain hunter as well as a music lover (not always
a compatible combination, as you would have discovered by now). But given
that this vocal album forms the basis of another in the Wackie's reissue
campaign on CD, the dub album "African Roots Act 3," it seems
that combining the two albums on one CD would have been a natural, and
a real treat for those of us who cannot get enough roots reggae, but also
can't get enough money to pay for it all. I guess Bullwackie Barnes wants
his reissues to remain austere and authentic, putting on CD exactly what
was on LP earlier. Fair enough, and if you've got the dough, this unadorned
album is a very worthwhile place to put it.
 Christafari,
"Gravity"
[Lion of Zion Entertainment, 2003]
This album is what the glossy press kit calls a "therapeutic sonic
collage," an inventive and golly gee clever medley of styles "deeply
rooted in the traditional reggae sound" that excitingly delivers
its "hard-hitting" message with never a moment of silence, a
fact of which the label is tremendously proud, because after all, it's
a "clever musical concoction" that is "guaranteed to emanate
pure niceness" with loads of biblical quotations and "tantalizing
interlude segments" that amazingly fill in (imagine!) what would
have been the brief silences between songs, all of which serve to make
the album an exalted form of "highly entertaining sonic art,"
presenting to desperately needy sinners some "contemporary psalms
with infectious melodies" delivered over "syncopated rhythms;"
and it's really, really entertaining and cerebral when you stop to think
about it (although stopping, especially to think, isn't part of the equation
here) in a this-is-serious-art-can't-you-tell-because-it's-so-avant-garde
kind of way, packaging its "solemn" message in an "irresistible"
form that delivers a "diverse and unorthodox sound" without
ever stopping for more than a split second because it's such an important
and terrific "ambient hybrid," in fact it's a veritable "musical
delicacy tenderly stuffed with the word of God" and "replete
with incessant delays and eternal reverberations," whatever incessant
delays and eternal reverberations are, impressively pulled together in
a "masterful" production, which is just as well considering
that God seems to have been pretty much responsible, although Mark Mohr
gets the producer, songwriter and singer credits, as well as his picture
on the cover; so if you can abide this sort of thing, including or especially
the proudly blatant attempt to persuade all listeners to "gravitate
toward the Word of God," then good for you, and you'll be blessed,
I'm sure.
 Israel
Vibration, "Fighting Soldiers"
[RAS Records, 2003]
There's a good reason this duo of Rastafarians include "vibrate"
as part of their name. They sure don't coast on their past successes,
and they sure don't plod when they make their reggae. They vibrate.
The first track gets our attention double quick (befitting the album
title) with an aggressive repeated pounding of a single chord, moving
into electric guitar over a solid riddim before settling into an assured
lead vocal, background voices, the whole satisfying bit. The lyrics seem
to be based on the Washington sniper case, but make a broader statement
about irrational violence, concluding predictably that "the end of
it is woe." Wiss, the lead singer here, lets the ends of his words
drift off into some high, irretrievable space, as if to emphasize the
ambiguity and aimlessness of it all. But all is not lost: you'll find
yourself humming the memorable chorus later-aimlessly, yes, but enjoyably.
The album progresses from one engaging song to another, Skelly and Wiss
as concerned as ever about identifying and fighting social injustice.
Second track: "Craven raven, why you so damn craven?" Third:
"Some a scream, some a shout, some a halla, some a baal." Fourth,
title track, with a stirring horn arrangement: "Like a soldier on
a journey distant mile from home/On a mission I am certain to let truth
and right be done/Word sound and power is my weapon." "Jah Runnings"
is one of the most attractive tracks, with a commanding vocal, piano,
horn charts that reach back to ska days, and a bouncy, quick-march ska
rhythm. The intended religious message-a warning about "Dark clouds
hanging low/Tougher days gonna come"-becomes benign against the onslaught
of such a cheery setting.
Unfortunately, we get the not-unexpected anti-gay message in the second
half, but it passes with (we hope) not much harm done. The critique of
political leadership likewise comes and goes without actually changing
the world. "Peace Not War" opens with some briefly portentous
drumming before it bursts open into a buoyant, optimistic chant: "If
there was no war, what a wonderful world this would be." Sounds hopelessly
naïve, true, but no more so than Lennon's "Imagine," and
these lyrics actually make more sense. The next track has a very controlled
lead vocal, but the quick military beat and impassioned wahwah guitar
create a welcome tension. The album ends as strongly as it began, with
a strutting lead vocal over tambourine, strings and horns on song number
12.
Skelly and Wiss take turns as songwriters and singers here, so we have
six songs from each, equally well-written and equally well-presented.
The arrangements and musicianship are impeccable. It's way too early,
of course, to decree just where this album lies in the hierarchy of Israel
Vibration releases, so hang on a sec…dum da dum da dum…okay,
here we go: "Fighting Soldiers" is Israel Vibration's greatest
album, which by definition means it's among the best modern roots reggae
to be had. It's a dynamic tour de force.
 Zema,
"Black Sheep"
[Melchizedek Music, 2003]
There is so, so much to like about this glowing album. The melodies are
immediately likable, each very different from the others and from anything
else I've heard in reggae, incorporating strong hooks and supported by
appropriate, if not highly creative, arrangements. Zema's beguiling vocals
take on different timbres whenever the music requires, and there's often
an appealing interplay between her lead and the contrasting male background
voices-an interplay that seems somehow more connected, more communicative,
than one expects, perhaps because Zema's own voice is sometimes in the
background mix too. We also have the sine-qua-non benefits of powerful
riddims, crystal-clear production and full, rich sound. My only reservations
are with some of the lyrics, but I'll state up front that although I'm
going to fuss about words and language for a moment, that doesn't mean
you shouldn't get this album. You should.
The liner notes to Black Sheep provide the words to all the tracks except
the last three, which are dubs. I always take the presence of printed
lyrics as a categorically clear clue of carefully constructed content
that should be correspondingly contemplated, so let's get at it.
Lyrics, points one and two: All the songs are based, more or less closely,
on biblical themes, every track quoting at least one biblical reference.
Unfortunately, the results seem contrived or even precious at times: what
are we to make of "your backslidings will rebuke you/Therefore I
will uncover your skirts over your face" or even the simple "garments
of praise?" This blending of original lyrics with biblical phrases
also creates problems in syntax: the deity can first be "he",
then "I", then "you", then back to "he",
all in the same song. Hard to follow.
Lyrics, point three: Christian fundamentalism-or any other kind-does
have its logical problems, and deciding what in the Bible is acceptable
nowadays to take literally is one of them. Consider, in "Fear Not,"
"For the Egyptians whom you see today/You shall see no more forever/The
LORD will fight for you." Where are they gonna disappear to? Are
we talking war or merely eternal damnation here? Some listeners may not
appreciate that particular Old Testament us-versus-them image being dredged
up, even if they can intellectually accept it here as just a figurative
expression of faith.
Okay, let's balance those complaints with three final positives: One,
an exhilarating horn arrangement dominates "Mi Kamocha". Two,
"Freedom Dub" skilfully recasts a speech by Dr. Martin Luther
King Jr. atop and within a dub of the earlier track "Free at Last",
in the manner of the famous and likewise stirring "Sky High &
the Mau Mau Present Marcus Garvey Chant." Three, the dub of the title
track, although it contains not a single vocal remnant, is full and satisfying,
such is the strength of the original tune.
All in all, be assured that, despite its name and my complaints, Black
Sheep is no outcast. Buy it with the confidence that you won't feel fleeced
in the least.
 Toots
& The Maytals, "World Is Turning"
[D&F Records, 2002]
As an offshoot of roots reggae, we have Toots reggae. Lots of it, historically
speaking, but not nearly enough, personally and greedily speaking. Now
we have 14 new songs plus one refurbished older tune, all with high-end
production, sympathetic arrangements and fervent, gospel-derived singing.
I really like it. I do. Problem is, I don't love it, and I expected to,
because, well…because it's Toots reggae.
I read that Mr. Hibbert now has a perfectionist streak, the reason we
haven't heard much from him recently. Perfectionist, eh? "Time Tough,"
"In the Dark," "Never Get Weary"- all unimprovable,
perfect songs from the man, expressive chunks of human consciousness perfectly
conveyed, and I doubt they arose from any quest for perfection. Yet this
rumor is plausible, given the evidence, and I don't approve.
Now, you ask, who am I to criticize the creative process of a musical
genius (as I readily acknowledge), one to whom I will always be indebted
for his contributions to my quality of life? Let me answer that awkward
question. I have no musical ability, none. But I am a pictorial artist,
and I know that the amount of sweat and worry I put into a piece has a
lot, but not everything, to do with how artistically successful it is.
I'll ask you a question now: what if Toots' vocal timing on his original
"Pressure Drop" hadn't been ever-so-slightly ahead of where
it should have been; what if he had waited that split second to sing in
"perfect" alignment with the beat-would the recording have delivered
the same sense of urgency? Answer: no way. Its flaws were what made it
perfect.
So here, for better or worse, we have a flawless album. In place of the
impromptu utterances of "Pomps and Pride," we now have more
polished lyrics. Instead of the weirdness of "One Eyed Enos,"
we have nice, normal themes. We're handed the good intentions of "I
got to make a hit right now for our children of tomorrow/I got to make
a hit right now for our children of today" in place of the ambiguity
of "Help this man, don't trouble no man/But if you trouble that man
it will bring a bam bam/What a bam bam."
Nonetheless, this flawless album does have its good points, and I've
become genuinely fond of maybe half of its songs. "Hit Meck,"
"Blame On Me" and "Livity," for example, are appealingly
funky, and what Toots does to The Lord's Prayer ("Our Father")
establishes a new, high standard for reggae treatments of religious set
pieces.
"World Is Turning" is therefore a welcome addition to my CD
shelf, and I expect on occasion to my CD player too. Toots' site on the
Web claims that he and his musicians have been "constantly"
recording over the past 20 years, and that several more albums worth of
original material are in the works. Let's hope those recordings haven't
been misshapened into perfection. If they haven't, I'll probably love
them.
------------------
Although the closest Ted Boothroyd has come to a personal
association with the Caribbean was to have a Trinidadian grandfather, which
Ted
didn't really have a lot to do with, he happily took in Harry Belafonte's
calypso
hits in the '50s and became a huge reggae fan in 1969 when Desmond
Dekker's "Israelites" hit big in Canada. Ted has reviewed books
on Caribbean music for The Beat, writes album reviews for other periodicals,
and co-hosts
a reggae and world music radio show in Fredericton, New Brunswick,
on Canada's east coast.
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