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 Clinton
Fearon: Mi an’ Mi Guitar, Boogie Brown Productions, 2005
www.boogiebrown.com
Rating: A
Listening to Mi an’ Mi Guitar,
I thought of Pablo Picasso. Yes, the late painter Picasso, the one whose
name is synonymous with modern art. Towards the end of his long career,
his output included some of the most simple and basic works he had ever
done. It was his “mi an’ mi paint” and “mi an’ mi ink” time. His paintings
became rudimentary exercises in form and color. His drawings became frugal;
they were simple ideas rendered in the simplest of lines. These were works
you might consider unsophisticated, perhaps even primitive.
Or as many art lovers do, you could
consider them close to the ultimate in sophistication, the purest form
of the master’s art, the distillation of his craft. He had proved himself
long before, and now had no need to impress, only to create. How you respond
to the results of that confidence depends in part on your value system,
and that will likely help determine how much you enjoy this unique album
by reggae veteran Clinton Fearon.
The title tells the tale: what
you get on this disc is human voice and acoustic guitar—and, of course,
a handful of melodic, contemplative songs. No drums, bass, keyboards,
horns, synthesizers, harmony trios or studio trickery. What is reggae
without drum and bass? What is contemporary reggae without big production?
How engaging can something be when there is so little involved?
For the answers you may just have
to buy this album. You will discover (or reconfirm) that art can be an
unadorned, uncomplicated, highly personal thing. You will know that the
worth of music is not measured in decibels. You will learn that reggae’s
rhythms are as much in the mind as in the speakers. Above all, you will
notice that when an old friend visits and hauls out his guitar and starts
singing a simple song he wrote, that’s one of those times when life seems
at its fullest.
 Various:
The Bunny Lee Rocksteady Years, Moll-Selekta, 2005
www.moll-selekta.com
Rating: B+
Some albums are easier to listen
to than they are to review. What can I say about a various artists compilation
entitled The Bunny Lee Rocksteady Years that you haven’t already
figured out, just from reading this far? The title gives away the producer,
the genre and the modus operandi of the whole album.
By no means does the lack of surprise
(and the difficulty in reviewing) end there. If you are a fan of early
reggae, you will be able to guess most of the artists, and if you are
not a fan, their names really won’t matter. If you have other Moll-Selekta
albums, you will be familiar with the label’s comprehensive liner notes,
almost impeccable track selection and attractive, high quality fold-out
packaging (except this time the cover photo is digitally stretched, always
a lousy idea). Finally, if you are at all acquainted with the rocksteady
era of Jamaican music, you know the music will be comprised primarily
of short, melodic love songs, soulfully delivered over a sturdy foundation
of drums and animated bass guitar.
Well then, what wouldn’t you know?
Here’s one thing: given that the Jamaican studios of the time (1967-68)
were very busy places, and that Lee’s hit-filled output as producer was
typically prolific, even a rabid fan could not anticipate some of the
songs that surface on this disc. Although listing artists and titles is
a publicist’s job, not a reviewer’s, I can reveal that among the generous
selection of 25 tracks, some are rare enough that even most fanatics won’t
already have them in their collection, including songs from Alva Lewis,
Cynthia Richards, and Webber Sisters. Dawn Penn’s “Long Day Short Night”
seems out of place, being more ska than rocksteady, but I heartily commend
the inclusion of four songs by The Sensations, smooth pre-cursors of the
great harmony trios of the roots reggae era. Closing with the sole instrumental
is a nice idea too.
No, there aren’t many surprises
involved in this album, but there are pleasures galore. If you enjoy relaxing
reggae rhythms, beautiful vocals and sweet tunes, I recommend you get
this album. No surprise there either.
 Kasumai:
Senegal: urban rhythms, ARC Music, 2005
www.arcmusic.co.uk
Rating: B
When you look at the track list
and see song titles like “Diambadon (Leaf Dance)” and “Kassak (Initiation
to Circumcision),” you’re going to think, “Ah yes, traditional album.
I know the type.” And if you then listen to “Kassak,” with its almost
primordial drumming and chanting, you’ll be convinced you were right.
But. If you hadn’t noticed the titles and your laser beam happened to
land first on the full but muted arrangement and Latin melody of track
3, you might very well think, “Ah yes, sophisticated contemporary Cuban
album. I know the type.”
Fact is, Senegal: urban rhythms
is a marriage of the traditional and the contemporary, and a very
successful union at that. Different elements cooperatively exist side
by side. Traditional drums and a drum kit. Kora and keyboards. Ancient
melodies and electric guitar. It may not come as a surprise to learn that
two Kasumai group members, including song writer Sagar N’Gom, were involved
with Outback (later Baka Beyond) for several albums. Nor is it a surprise
after a bit of listening to read that the group admires (and was influenced
by) earlier Senegalese groups like Orchestra Baobab and Touré Kunda, and
by fellow countryman Baaba Maal.
Some favorite tracks:
• “Alla Lamina” with
rippling kora so complex it’s hard to believe it’s a solo.
• “Mado,” a heartfelt
tribute by the vocalist to his wife who had recently died after childbirth.
• “Diambadon” with its
emphatic percussion, abrupt changes and call and response vocals.
• “Le Travail” for the
furious pace and beautiful instrumental interplay.
• “Equipe National,”
a message to soccer hooligans everywhere that there is a better approach
to cheering for one’s team, namely the cascading sound of the kora and
lyrics that link the process of preparing to catch fish to the national
team preparing for a game.
• “Anniversaire,” a
restrained, gentle effort that borrows a riff from the classic Latin melody
“Guantamara.”
• “Casa N’Col” for its
vocal intro and very intense sound.
Yikes, that’s half the album on
my “favorites” list. But the booklet accompanying the CD is praiseworthy
too. It includes an essay on the group itself, bios and photos of its
members, descriptions of the traditional instruments used, and summaries
of the song lyrics, all in several languages. Plus, in English, the recording
credits. It’s a perfect addition to a varied, accessible, enjoyable album.
 Dub
Gabriel: Bass Jihad, Azra Records, 2005
www.azrarecords.com
Rating: A
I should not like this as much
as I do. My love of interesting sounds is usually tempered by a distaste
for noisy or droning sounds. This has some of all three, but the interesting
parts prevail, and as I have to admit, it’s all musical. Maybe it was
the warm, handsome, intriguing packaging that seduced me; it might have
put me in such a great mood that I was ready to accept whatever came from
the speakers.
What does come from the speakers
is as intriguing as the package. Here we have someone, Dub Gabriel by
name, who takes delight in exploring his musical ideas at length and concerns
himself more with texture, contrast and rhythm than with melody. So this
is not dub reggae; this is dubbish musical adventure informed by reggae.
Okay, but you still want to know
what Bass Jihad sounds like. Given the title you expect a swirling,
percussive Near East flavor to dominate, which at times is true; in fact
the first track delivers exactly that. But the next one plunks us suddenly
into an elevator shaft connected to a busy factory floor where the workers
clang in rhythm as the foreman drones commands, while nearby some women
endlessly practice one segment of one bar of a choral arrangement. That’s
what I hear, anyway, and I like it.
Skipping several tracks, we encounter
what might be a sitar player riffing away during a party, a woman’s not-quite-laugh
intruding from the next room as an orchestra proceeds through its pre-concert
tuning routine. Later a church organ competes with an airport next door
and a rock drummer in the basement. A lighter tone follows, a tapped rhythm
accompanying a keyboardist practicing a bird call in a Greek café with
Augustus Pablo on the jukebox. The disc ends with 16 minutes of slowly
building sound effects, deep bass, deep chanting, Arabic musical structure,
and East Indian percussion to a Nyahbinghi rhythm.
With its creative voice sampling,
its smart rhythms, its ambiance by turns claustrophobic and spacey, and
its complex musical character, Bass Jihad lends itself to a state
of wonderment: what in the world is going on? As you can tell, the answer
is definitely not easy, but the challenge it presents to the imagination
is thoroughly enjoyable.
 Audrey
Gordon: …Still Waiting, 2004
www.audreygordon.com
Rating: B
Did you realize there are degrees
of righteousness? Audrey Gordon’s motto is “Pursuing Excellence in Righteousness.”
Problem is, if there’s an excellent kind, there must be a humdrum kind
too, and even a downright miserable version of righteousness grovelling
in the dirt somewhere. Finding that concept hard to grasp, I began to
wonder if self-righteousness may be the real issue, so I feared the worst
when I put …Still Waiting into my disc player.
What a relief. Neither in her lyrics
nor in her delivery does Gordon come across as a self-righteous dogmatist.
She presents herself convincingly as a humble believer, true to her Christian
faith and eager to praise. She is witnessing, not proselytizing.
Fortunately, witnessing of this
kind is very easy to take, because Gordon writes songs exceptionally well,
sings pretty well most of the time, and associates with an uncredited
but terrific bunch of reggae musicians. Yes, this is Christian reggae
(plus one soca track), not much different as a genre from the Rastafarian
kind except in certain details of the lyrics. Therefore do not expect
the powerful, shake-the-church-rafters gospel shouting of Clara Ward’s
heyday. These vocals are lively but not dramatic; sincere rather than
lambasting.
We get lots of sparkling rhythms
and memorable, catchy tunes, so many that a list of my favorites would
include half the album. It’s easier to pick the four tracks (of 17) that
aren’t great, where Gordon’s voice sounds strained and somewhat off pitch;
she has a real problem dealing with the changes of “Blood Medley,” for
example. Maybe she was tired that day. Otherwise she is in fine form,
including a toast to her own singing vocal. The disc ends touchingly,
her spoken voice reciting verses from Psalm 8 over a reprise of one of
her best songs.
I don’t know about her aspirations
to righteous excellence, but Audrey Gordon has certainly achieved a high
degree of musical excellence in most of this album. And to be blunt, for
us listeners that’s the more important goal.
 Steele:
Uncorrupted Steele, Mobs, 2004
www.steelemusic.com
Rating: B
To get an accurate idea of what
Uncorrupted Steele sounds like, you would have to look at the
photo on the back cover as well as the front. The singer/songwriter’s
meditative, sensitive, introspective side is illustrated in the front
cover portrait, but the back is where the action is. It portrays an outgoing,
happy Steele, confident and animated, and for me that is the portrait
of the artist that lingers when the album ends.
After a short spoken intro, Steele
launches into a highly positive sort of reggae dancehall, in which he
declares, “Greetings in the name of the King/I will keep on smiling ’cause
His Majesty lives within.” You see? Right off the bat the moody, pensive
image of the cover is deflated. The track also sets a high musical standard
for what is to come. Fortunately, what follows is up to that standard:
a catchy tune, strong rhythm, soulful vocal and lyrics that slide a few
comments about social conditions into his Rastafarian moralizing.
In fact, the standard is never
lowered, even though Steele eventually veers in other directions: a love
song where he is trying to get back on his girl’s good side, then a heartfelt
and pretty hymn (“Even the roughest among us need a little bit of prayer
sometimes.”) Next comes a familiar musical quote: “If I am guilty I will
pay,” which launches us into a quick-stepping, synthesized rhythm and
interesting arrangement for lyrics that demand justice. The album’s highlight
has to be “Ruben,” a complex piece with strong ragga rhythm. Steele exerts
remarkable vocal control over some very abrupt changes, but what makes
it especially engaging is the perfectly timed interplay between him and
an animated deejay named Spida.
Uncorrupted Steele has
three covers versions. I never liked the old pop hit “Silhouettes,” either
the original or Herman’s Hermits’ remake, but I like the version here;
the lyrics don’t feel as icky as they are. The restrained reading of “You’ve
Lost that Loving Feeling” is also more listenable than Phil Spector’s
original bombastic production for The Righteous Brothers. The third cover,
Womack and Womack’s “TKO,” is another good marriage of reggae and R&B.
There is also one instrumental, an extended groove with a repeated “far
east” riff.
It may be synthesized and slick, but the bubbling
rhythms, memorable tunes and supple vocals make for an excellent contemporary
reggae album—in fact, aside from the slipshod liner notes, this is a highly
professional effort. Good stuff.
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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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