TIGER-BACK FROM EXTINCTION

photo by BETH LESSER

Not much was written about the man, uh I mean, the cat known as TIGER. The man was born Norman Jackson in the jungles of KINGSTON JA. Most of what I learned about him came from Beth Lesser’s amazing books. Someday I’ll get around to telling ya all about them. Till then…

Tiger would set up some CASIO keyboards and drum machines on his porch. A crowd would gather round too listen. TIGER would keep layering and tweaking the sound till he got the RIDDIM just right. And how did Tiger know when he hit it just right? When the gathered crowd started uncontrollable grooving. Created in real time before a lively audience. That’s how he would test his tunes. Before he even voiced a RIDDIM he already knew the beats would get the Ladies hips shaking and the Gents feet shuffling.

A best of collection of early massive chart smashes. Awesome place to start hunting down TIGER'S tunes. A RAS Records release.

TIGER was an instant DANCEHALL smash. So big was his success that after playing local star he signed to the major international power house...Columbia Records. He was something completely new. Unique at the mic like EEK-A-MOUSE but with a style all his own. His tunes were catchy get stuck in your head tunes but TIGER always prowled a fine line between artistic genius and gimmick. When inspiration got a little on the thin side he started to lean heavy on his repertoire of proven vocal stunts. (Animal noises.) Umm, it did get old after awhile and TIGER was listed as an ENDANGERED SPECIES! Fads fade so quickly where the youth are concerned.

As ELEPHANT MAN so eloquently states in the tune Replacement Killers….”And TIGER Seh Mi Fi Beat Red Stripe Offa ZEBRA.”

I never thought I would quote Elephant Man.

I guess Jamaica has a soft spot in its heart for the growling TIGER because as the years progressed into now, ZEBRA picked up TIGER’S style and began hitting the charts with it until he was sentenced to 30 years hard labor for carnal abuse and buggery. There is never a dull moment in Jamaica’s music industry.

I Googled TIGER for any new info and learned that he was mashed up real bad inna motorcycle accident early 1994. I always figured a fickle Dancehall scene was behind his disappearance. It was both because by that time in his career music was changing fast. On a positive note TIGER is injury recovered and released this comeback effort in 2003.

Not great but not bad either…Glad to see that top cat landed on all four of his claws.

NEXT IN LINE PLEASE...

I noticed over the HOLIDAY I lost a reader! She accounted for 25% of my readership. Yeah, I know solving percentages are a MATH thing but I was able to use a calculator.

Now onto the subject of questions.

WHY is this DUB masterpiece not released on CD yet?

Hello suits over at ISLAND RECORDS/UNIVERSIAL-are ya hearing us?

I have posted pics of CE'CILE twice and still haven't reviewed any of her kick-ass music. Next year is awfully close...ACHIS where did you find that last pic of her that you posted? AMAZING!

DUB is becoming a lost ART down in JAMAICA. Maybe I will wrap my mind around that thought.

THE REVEALING TRUTH...

The most listened to batch of tunes on my I-POD goes to CLINT EASTWOOD.

REAL CLINT EASTWOOD and AFRICAN YOUTH are essentially the same album. They share a bunch of the same tunes but mix-up the playing order. Both are independantly indispensable if you’re a CLINT EASTWOOD fan.

BIG YOUTH and U-ROY used to be the most played but I updated my MPEG audio files. I boosted the BIT rate from 160 kbps to 192 for "superior" sonic quality. My damn ears can’t detect the difference but I was assured it was a move for the better. So the play count changed.

TRUTH BE TOLD!

Why I feel this man owes me a T-shirt!

As an experiment...I cued up SIZZLA on my I-Pod and then checked the play count. I have twenty-two Sizzla compact discs in MP3 format loaded to my I-Pod. The revealing facts that I found...shocked me! Technology might be EVIL but it can't be programmed to lie. What I discovered about my Sizzla listening habits....

Even tho I’m a computer illiterate knuckle dragger I‘ve still managed to accumulate about 300 gigs of music on my hard drive. Somehow I even find the time too listen to music the old fashioned way. You know spun on a stereo with a 5 disc CD Changer. But this post is not about either of those two methods; it is about the revealing facts behind my I-POD habits. Okay, first off, I use it most during my vain attempt to turn back the clock. By that, I mean exercising my ITAL right to running. Secondly, at night my wife likes static noise to fall asleep too; me I prefer deep dub so I use my I-Pod as a sailboat to drift off into the currents of sleep.

Why does SIZZLA owe me a t-shirt? I’m getting’ to that…

Sizzla’s orphaned CD is welcome in my home. It is because of my love for this little bastard disc that I feel he owes me!

My trained detective like mind (Lol) spots a trend here. Because an artist's album is listed in alphabetical sequence, maybe that could explain why ADDICTED and AIN’T GONNA SEE US FALL are my most played SIZZLA albums. Hmmm?

I figure being available in alphabetical order explains the play count. I choose whatever comes up first. I can be unimaginably lazy at times. (Like meeting BLOG deadlines!) I’ve pressed play for ADDICTED on seventeen separate occasions. I must admit I‘ve really come to love that odd little RHYTHM and BLUES disc. I mean REGGAE disc.
Before engaging in any physical effort it's smart to begin wimpy. Don't wanna break nothin'.
So I start my heart off slow. Warming up with a good stretch to loosen things. Best to maintain a nice mellow pace before selecting an energy blast of pure dancehall.

AIN’T GONNA SEE US FALL really gets the blood pumping. This is the angry, funny and cynical side to MR. KALONJI. And I’ve sped up my 10k to it on eighteen different occasions.

The strangest bit of info I learned is when I need to hear SIZZLA the ROOTS REGGAE singer of THANKS and PRAISES, I play BURNING FIRE more than the acknowledged masterpiece, BLACK WOMAN AND CHILD. (That CD tends to go around in circles much more in my stereo along with his CHILD OF JAH CD.)
BURNING FIRE has two really big roots anthems on it for me, JAH KNOWS BEST and JAH IS LOVE. I cannot get enough of those tunes, which is a good thing since they show up on multiple releases. I am well aware of Penitentiary Record's dubious reputation. This is another instance were cheap worked for me.

I have since made a conscious effort to start backwards, and by that I mean start at end of the alphabet.
I have been playing WATERHOUSE REDEMPTION when I now warm up.

Then run head first into oblivion with SIZZLA’S RASTAFARI CD beatin’ in my eardrums!

EXPERIENCING TURBULENCE!

TURBULENCE, like his mentor SIZZLA KALONJI, can release a prodigious amount of CDs inna New York minute. Scary. And like his mentor, Sizzla, the quality is quite impressive. Even scarier. Odds are against both of ‘em, but obviously these boys know how to manipulate the laws of logic.

Common sense says no way can any one man create that much perfection. There couldn’t be just one man behind the microphone. True enough. There must be at least three different Turbulences. There are. All three have the birth name of Sheldon Campbell too.

My favorite TURBULENCE is the conscious of mind storyteller of ROOTS reasoning. Another favorite is the DANCEHALL chanter of yard politics and ghetto conflicts. These two Turbulences didn’t stand in the shadow of mentor and master talent Sizzla for very long.

That leaves one more Turbulence persona…the RHYTHM AND BLUES singer with the gruff voice.

At one time my little mind couldn’t conceive the reasons why he would waste his time on such nonsense. Other than to think it was money motivated with stateside crossover dreams. My resilience got worn down with each consecutive spin till the simple realization hit me-the boy has big LOVE in his heart. (Enough to share with many women!) That answer and the fact that he is really good at this RHYTHM AND BLUES stuff is proof enough for me. His foreign approach is somehow more authentic than the original stateside sound and look-alikes these days. TURBULENCE is no man’s clone!

I can’t single out any CD in particular that’s stronger in the “Girl I love you” vibe because they are all created equally with that three part magic formula.

When I’m the mood for good R’n’B, I don’t spin Usher. I don’t spin Justin Timberlake. I spin SHELDON CAMPBELL

THE COOLER RULER!

I approach his newer material with serious trepidation. Why? Only because the critics say his day was back in the 1970’s. Actually those critics are the same fools that claim Reggae’s glory has long since faded into ancient history. Yep, how do you explain the thirty plus years of massive musical masterpieces that were created since then? I never gave ‘em any credence before, so why start now. I did so wrongfully with this 2003 Jetstar release. You can’t blame me for not trusting my ears to Jetstar. Although, I should of known better with them too, because their forte is this sweet stuff. Jetstar are the pastry chefs of Reggae music. Baking aural confections like Ambilique, Al Campbell and Peter Hunningale.

Back to Mr. Gregory Isaacs …I figured while he was lounging around enjoying retirement age, that he might be a little hard up for some cash flow and agreed to spend a few minutes working some routine tracks. Tunes of throw away type. There never seems to be a shortage of ‘em. Sure wouldn’t be the first time a record company insulted an artist of The Cool Ruler’s stature with an album worth of junk.

No way. JETSTAR put the old man back to work full time with this disc!

Ruff Cutt’s Tony Phillips recorded this sixteen-tune daydream at Cave Studios in London. When I read Cave Studios in the liner notes I pictured the place cold and dank but this CD shines warmth. Gregory must have brought the tropics with him. Stashed away in his luggage where customs couldn’t sniff it out. Studio wiz Jazzwad shares in the creativity. Morgan Heritage splits writers credit on the title tune, “Here by Appointment.” Does Denroy’s many idren have a version of this tune or did they only supply the Riddim?

“Here By Appointment” has that vintage feel finely layered over modern Lovers Rock Riddims. Clean, clear and concise grooves that lightly bounce. Yes, he is disengaged from the beat but he embraces the mood. In fact he wraps his arms around the melody. That is the Mr. Gregory Isaacs personal signature. He enjoyed these tunes. It shows.
Now this CD has been spinning in my car for a few weeks straight. Mainly, I have to say because I am too lazy or too forgetful to change it: but like a Dyson Vacuum Cleaner, once song one begins this CD sucks me right in. I even find myself driving the long way home.

UPDATE

I have been experiencing some serious technical difficulties with my BLOG lately.

Or maybe I have been experiencing technical difficulties with my BRAIN. Either way... I seem to have it momentarily solved.

ORIGINAL COPY RIDDIM

Some singers can’t rock a Riddim no matter who rolls out the riffs. Recording studio managers’ haffi PUMP UP the Auto-tune to maximum effect in order to camouflage the genuine lack of SKILLZ. Of course I am talking out loud here about OTHER musical GENRES. Hip Hop maybe? Possibly R&B? Yeah I’m pointing the FINGER at both of them. Do you remember when R&B used to stand for rhythm and blues? Where is the blues? Where is the human touch?
Dancehall fans beware ‘cause that Auto-tune effect shit is starting to creep its way in with certain JA production teams. (If not all) What bothers me about it…is these Dancehall talents can sing on the drop of a dime so they don’t NEED it. Serani or Honorable Munga I’m naming you.
I wonder if twenty years from now if I spin Strictly The Best 43, my eyes will get misty with nostalgia. “Auto-tune…wow that was so 2010! Do you remember that? Those were the good daze!”

Kinda like how I get all warm and fuzzy inside when I hear that Casio powered Rub-A-Dub stuff of the early Eighties.

Now in the wonderful world of Reggae Dancehall certain singers don’t think twice about rocking the same Riddim. Huge talent seems to come natural here. Talent also seems to grow in abundance. Has to be something in the water. Or the weed.



The year of release is 1996. The label is none other than VP Records. Original Copy is pure ROOTS VIBE. Original Copy has organic bass by ROBBIE thumping its’ way around SLY’s acoustic drum beats. Out of nowhere comes this smooth sax riff. I think courtesy of Lloyde Willis. You don’t notice it at first. This is all than electronically recorded by Stuart Brown for AFRICAN STAR.

CAPLETON voices not one but three tunes here! He starts off the proceedings with PURE of heart Fyah vibes with the BIG tune CHANT MI SONG. Inspector Grizzle (who?) and African work their stuff on the same Riddim before CAPLETON returns with an extended dubbed version of Chant Mi Song. Not a true dub but the extra reverb and echo do add to that rootsy feel. Very cool vibes. How do you follow the best tune on the disc? With another hard burning tune from the Fyahman. No Carbon Copy is just what it says. Its’ voiced over a different Riddim! Is it called PROGRAM? The rest of disc alternates between these two Riddims. A younger JAH CURE takes on the Original Copy Riddim and makes magic. African shows up again for track seven but it’s the Military Man tune that follows it that has my undivided attention. MILITARY MAN is definitely under recorded. Why? He is a strong chanter with a big voice and heart to match. Another name I never heard of before, Granty Roots, and Determine finish out the disc. The more I hear from Determine… the more I like.

I wouldn’t call this a straight Riddim disc then. In fact VP Records were a few years away before starting up the RIDDIM DRIVEN series. I guess you could call ORIGINAL COPY a prototype.

HITSVILLE JA

T.O.K.

They are not a Jamaican BWOY BAND. At first glance I summed ‘em up as being nothing more than little girl crushes. I was very wrong. The Bounty Killer would never share the microphone with a group of manufactured tonsils unless of course he was using them to wipe his feet.



It’s okay to get caught with T.O.K. on your I-Pod. I repeat they are not a Jamaican version of a bwoy band…they are however a producer’s wet dream. Four very skilled vocal talents that already come with the working knowledge of each other’s techniques. Just hand over the Riddim and they’ll make it a hit. I read somewhere that the group formed during their high school years but nailed their sound down in time for college. T.O.K. cite Motown’s Boyz 2 Men as a big influence. Yep.
These bwoys bring a little Detroit to Kingston. They are a re-boot of The Temptations.





I’m not gonna pretend I know who is who in the group but I will tell ya, when the balladeer gets warmed up, his ANGELIC voice will tug at your heart strings.
This should come with a warning sticker. Not for offensive language, although some profane patios does lurk around in their vocabulary. It should WARN potential buyers that contained within this disc are the most INFECTIOUS grooves to ever get under your skin. Ya just can’t scratch ‘em away.
I bought this disc after hearing “Man Ah Bad Man The Sequel” featuring T.O.K. on Bounty Killer’s “Ghetto Dictionary: The Art Of War.” Sequels are never as good as the original so part one must be total smash up. It is. That original tale is found here on T.O.K.’s “My Crew, My Dawgs” debut.

I find it interesting how singers can be walking contradictions and at the same time still be true to themselves. I mean this record has a song that is PLEA for PEACE but at the same time, the tune “Chi-Chi Man” ADVOCATES gun spree VIOLENCE against the heterosexually challenged. Umm, “Chi-Chi Man” is probably the catchiest tune here and rides a Riddim that is essentially a reworking of the classic Christmas chestnut, “Do You Hear What I Hear?”

POPCORN? IT'S LITE!

As you can see... my computer illiterate self is trying to get creative. I stopped before I screwed it all up. Mr. Ras Achis has a blazing background of FYAH so I figured it would be apropos for my page to have puffs of billowing smoke. Um...yeah. His blog is information fueled education where my blog is nap time entertainment.

WTF?

I might add a WTF moment to my posting. My television (and cable and phone) provider has this free access to videos covering all musical genres. The selection is always changing. The Reggae selection is limited to about a dozen at a time. On it I stumbled across a video for RDX titled "Skip." I may have heard the name before.
Holy shit did I laugh my ass off. I played it for my wife who just looked at me quizzically. I laughed my ass off again. Intentionally funny tune and colorful video. I would of splice them in but videos slow my computer down to a crawl. YouTube it for a good laugh.



Another mystery was a video for Major Lazer. Who? Actually it is a collaboration of two DJ's, Diplo and Switch, who worked in such Dancehall masters as Vybz Kartel and Busy Signal into their mix. IT IS A CARTOON ACTION FIGURE IN SOUND AND VISION! Check it out. Definitely worth a long look. Mr. Lex aka Lexxus of RING MI CELLI fame is the guest mystery voice.



Still not as weird as that R.D.X. tune though. That one will have me scratching my head for awhile. And laughing. With or at....I'm not sure.

RIPTON J. HYLTON!

The 6 foot 6 inch Mighty Mouse

Ripton J. Hylton released two go nowhere singles while still in college. After a complete transformation of name and production team, Eek-A-Mouse arrived to the cheers of Dancehall fans. If you are new to the Mouse the best place to start would be at the Junjo Lawes produced and Roots Radic backed debut. Tunes like "Wa-Do-Dem" and "Ganja Smuggling" introduced us listeners to whole new style. For lack of a better name it was simply called SingJay. Barrington Levy could drop in some extremely flexable vocal techniques, but the Mouse, he performed vocal gymnastics. Gold medal stuff. Thirty years later and nobody can cop his style. The second best addition to your Mouse selection would be the Linval Thompson produced and yet again, Roots Radic backed "Mouseketeer." All originally pressed on Greensleeves vinyl.



Or if your not as committed a fan, shame on you, you could chose this 12 track collection of Mouse maddness that culls together the cream from his first 3 releases. Better yet...10 of the tunes are the 12" mixes. I have all three records but I still couldn't pass this one up. For whatever reason Shanachie took over his past discography but it appears to be back safely in Greensleeves hands where they add extra tunes and better mastering.

Both of my daughters when they where young in age used to dance like crazy to the Mouse. Kids love him and parents approve.

DON'T HAFFI DREAD

A few semesters back while I was sitting face to face with an administrator type hoping to figure out my educational path, she pointed to the nest I called a hairstyle. She politely mentioned that my tangled snarls would have to go bye-bye. Entrance to the X-ray program is based on scoring the highest grades. That and medical professionals look presentable. I know the deal.
I froze in front of the mirror and reluctantly started to buzz my brain basket down to peach fuzz. Flashes of Army daze came rushing up in my face. I watched as years and years of spiritual growth dropped to the floor.

A fucking normal Joe was staring back at me! I’m a crazy baldhead!

I felt naked and weak. Like when a beguiling Delilah sheared off Samson’s seven locks. But damn-I betrayed myself! That’s the price one pays for a brighter future. Well that and state tuition. Besides hair has this habit of growing back so no big end of the world. In an effort to cheer me up…my wife claimed it made me look a lot younger. All the gray was chopped off and swept into the dustbin. My friends that are challenged by disappearing hair follicles were horrified that I hadn’t waited till I was sure I passed all those prerequisite classes.
This buzz cut became a test of faith. It also re-enforced my ambition to push myself. No slacking…no easy ways. I sat in the front row under the professor’s nose because I’m almost blind and completely deaf. Plus sitting there under the professor’s nose there would be no added girlie distractions to tempt my attention. Otherwise, the loss of righteous hair and expensive for me anyway, state tuition, would be in vain.
So Don’t Haffi Dread by Morgan Heritage became my personal anthem. Pencil pushing in class dressed in plainclothes. Not dressed as a Soldier of JAH.
Dreads do give you instant Rasta cred, but ultimately it is what in your heart that matters, and how you treat your fellow man while you go about your daily doings. Yep...don't haffi dread to be RASTA!


The high camp Hollywood version of 1949 that I grew up with. Where's Samson's seven locks?

For years record companies and critics looked for the next Bob Marley. Every rising star might be the next international breakout and the majors were in frenzy to sign ‘em. They weren’t done squeezing enough money out of the music. Black Uhuru came closest and was the first Reggae entity to win a Grammy. Not impressed, lead voice Michael Rose left the group, leaving a young Jr. Reid to fill the void. Bob’s kids Ziggy and the Melody Makers weren’t taken as serious artists yet. The rest of the obvious heir apparent children weren’t of age. (Now that they are, lets just say that their sound is too URBAN. Think of Damain Marley’s rap cross over. Scares ‘em.) That was years ago-maybe now the record companies are searching for the next Buju or Sizzla.
Denroy Morgan’s heirs could have been the answer to that dumb question. Who else has that complex layer after layer of textured sound? Fat bass accompanied by pounding drums sweetened by harmony as thick as cane sugar syrup. Add epic guitar leads when necessary but not enough to dilute the Reggae vibe. Filter in washes of keyboard fills and percussion swells. Morgan Heritage sings songs with universal lyrics that speak to the cart pusher (always going uphill) in Kingston or to the suburban skate rat from an upper-middleclass neighborhood.
Morgan Heritage speaks to me. This whole album tells me a story that I want to hear. Start to finish I’m all ears.

While visiting my wife’s baby brother in the burn ward at Bridgewater Hospital in Connecticut a DREAD passed me dressed in scrubs. He was a working MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL! Granted his dreads were well manicured and tied back neatly. They were real dreads and not some hair extensions. So there is hope that I’ll be able to LOCKS -UP one more time before old age buries me. And no I wasn't alive in 1949!

3 Monkey's Sitting Under A Coconut Tree...

The opening track is an extreme ministry of Righteous word play. Imagine Bunny Wailer and Bounty Killer breathing in the same smoke! Naught by Nature's Treach drops a nicely delivered rhyme.



I put Junior Gong’s Half Way Tree CD on for some background music. Yeah…stupid choice to make ‘cause that release demands both ears perked straight up when played. I put it louder and chanted along to “Educated Fools”. Figured the times right to tackle that nagging debate on Evolution verses Adam and Eve. I know my Book of Genesis and I am well aware of what Darwin’s Theory based science claims. From personal experience, I would say both are correct. Primordial ooze is ancient pond scum. Right? Yeah…that notion would explain of few of my friends. I don’t even have ta squint one eye ta see that their forefathers crawled out of the slime. Their morals are so corrupted that if you shake hands with them you feel violated. Most of my friends though are going smoothly along according to Jah’s divine plan. They abide by the daily bread and by the daily grind to support their nuclear family values. Those friends are living out a full life fulling Scriptures. Whether they’re meek enough to inherit the Lord’s Earth; well that’s a different story.



The third track..."IT WAS WRITTEN" featuring Marley big brother Stephen and welcomed guest Capleton slow burn with Fyah so intense it makes the hair on my knuckles stand up!

COMING NEXT...

When I lose faith in humanity, Cocoa Tea is my go to guy for upliftment.

A few Christmases ago my wife Krispy, (not her actual name but more like a description), asked me what do I want for a gift and I told her Buju’s new CD, Rasta Got Soul. That would bring some holiday cheer. My daughter then asked me what do I want and it was a simple answer- if your step-mom doesn’t get me Rasta Got Soul, you could get it for me. Of course I got socks or something wearable. So I bought it for myself last week. I haven’t opened it yet. I’m gonna wrap it up real pretty like and put it under the tree for myself. I might even feign surprise, “See …Santa must got my letter.”


Yes, I am aware that I am two behind.

I tease my wife that I like to start the shopping madness by buying myself something first. It kinda warms me up. You know…puts me in the spirit of gift giving.
So I ordered what seems like boxes full of Riddim CD's from Ernie B's. At .49,.79,.99 cents I coudn't resist. Check their sale out.
An Alexander Hamilton goes way further than ya think...

DO I NEED A REASON?

Nope. After my last post though...this is the best way to change the subject.

AGAINST BETTER JUDGMENT-I PRESS PUBLISH

I debated whether I should mention the reason why author Stephen Foehr called the Capleton concert a concert of hate, but I will. It was because of the Fyahman’s anti- batty boy lyrics. To further put the boots to it… Mr. Boom Bye Bye Buju Banton was also on the bill.

I don’t wish to be pigeon holed as that “controversial” blogger. I hope I offer some constructive criticism. I mean…am I Reggae’s Jerry Springer? Lol. My wife insists I was born without that part of the brain that regulates speech.

I’m not shy when it comes to talk’n ‘bout politics and race, but one taboo that shuts me up like a slammed door is sexual preference.
Many moons ago, back when I was a hormone driven youth-man, the boys and me were sitting around drinking beer and playing cards. The cliché question of what lady singers we thought were hot was asked. I casually tossed out Diana Ross’s name. I am talking the smoking album cover/poster and not her 80’s musical content!
Ya think I came outta the closet or something judging by everybody’s reaction! Remember this was back in 1980 or 1981. Explain to me how wanting to f**k this hot older superstar chick makes me a twinkle toes?
It wasn’t her looks but her gay disco following that earned me that moment of scorn. I thank JAH I didn’t say Donna Summer!

“F**king f**gots!” I mumbled, “Yep...no thanks to them it’s not even safe to admit that I’d love to knock boots with Diana Ross.”


Racy stuff back in analog days!

So that was the first time uttered a hateful slur. I usually reserve the hateful slurs for the person that signs my paycheck. I live in a very straight world filled with wives and ex-wives and crying babies, so I know nothing about the heterosexually challenged population. I don't give homophobia much thought. They leave me alone and I won’t watch American Idol in return. Fair enough. I figure it is Jah’s place to pass judgment and not my humble human opinion.

WHITE MICE

To answer the who part of the question I asked a few post ago. Who? White Mice.



There is a strong chance ya never heard of him. I knew almost nothing about him and what I do know; I learned only recently. I used to haunt the capitol city's hippest record stores and I was never graced with the presence of his "True Love" LP. The magazine rack had issue after issue of underground rock music but stocked no Reggae magazines. At best you could thumb across a random article on Reggae. I never found a printed word about White Mice. Remember this was pre-internet days. I found out about him from Beth Lessor's mighty King Jammy/Dancehall books. Google him now and you'll be informed by the same variation of the linear notes. He faded away quietly and quickly by his own device. Nobody knows why. If he continued laying down tracks he would definitely been a huge star. With a unique technique he rode some first class riddims. Lyrical content covered serious concerns. Everybody talks about the 70's being the golden era of reggae. A fact I won't refute, but by the end of the decade everybody was building their career from the Bob Marley and the Wailers blueprint. The 80's saw a new architect in King Jammy. The ghetto didn’t wanna make Reggae for white British college kids anymore; they wanted to create a homegrown soundtrack for themselves. Apparently the producer Junior Delgado working at Jammy’s studio baited White Mice with a piece of cheese just long enough to capture a full CD's worth killer tracks. Released on Basic Replay outta Germany.



White Mice was born Allan Crichton and the original vinyl was released on his brother Blemo's Intelitec label based in Miami. While searching for some photographs to cut and paste I came across this info…he resurfaced as Ras Iwa. Maybe it’s him-the intel seemed sketchy.

CONVERTED...

I am going to interupt my scheduled programming of rodents and riddims for something completely different...



I gotta say I got pretty damn impatient waiting for MAVADO'S new CD to drop. What has it been since his sophomore release,"Mr. Brooks...A Better Tomorrow", dropped in early 2009? It's now near the end of 2010. That makes it almost 23 months ago-an eternity in Reggae years. So while I was window shopping at Ernie B's, I came across "THE HITLIST vol 2". I had typed Mavado into the search box and among the selections that popped up was this collection from TAD's. I consulted an expert before buying and when I got authentication, I added it to my cart. (Bigup Achisl)



On this disc was not one but five Mavado singles! A total of twenty-four epic tunes make this an incredible earful. There is something orchestral about these tunes. Something almost operatic. Big big tunes here! This disc also introduced me to some new ladies like Lisa Hype and Gaza Kim. Interestingly, former Alliance talent and Mavado nemesis, Vybz Kartel is represented by five big tunes. His massive three part "Clarks" being his show piece. I guess TAD'S doesn't play favorites with either side if the arguement. Dancehall King and Queen Beeenie Man and Mi Lady Saw drop one tune apiece. I still find it interesting that the Beenie Man and Bounty Killer fued was over each one accusing the other for copping their sound. I have never confused a Bounty Killer tune for Beenie's. Nonsense. I have confused Bushman for Luciano when I am only half awake. Half baked?

Okay, if vol 2 was essential then the first volume must be mandatory listening. Right?



It is.



Gyptain along with Suga Roy and Conrad Crystal cover Joseph Hill and Culture's warhorse of a tune "Jah Jah See Dem." For me covering Culture can prove to be a sacrilegious affair. Not so in this case. It is faithful to the original vibe and has an all new energy at the same time. I have no idea who Suga Roy and Conrad Crystal are but Gyptian really won me over with this tune. I already count his Beng Beng and Mi Fadda Say being big faves of mine, but some of his tunes seem a little too radio friendly for my liking. I am going back to spin 'em with new ears.

The real jewel of this set for me is "Daggera" by Spice. (another big up to Achis) This tune rocks a polka riddim! Crazy. I wonder if there is some guy in Poland right now rocking a Dancehall riddim on his accordian?

This disc is a bit mellower than it's sequel. No less big in sound though. The breakout new talent for me is Laden with his correctly put "Time To Shine" tune. Bounty Killer and Beenie Man on the same disc with only six songs to seperate them? I can hear the insults! This disc plays out sweetly with a Sizzla ballad. I count myself a convert to the TAD's label. I'm looking forward to misappropriating funds to buy more of their releases.

RIDDIMS!

Okay, I came off like Raid rodent repellant with that last post. So my apologies to Wallace Wilson.

Psst...why am I whispering? Lean in close 'cause I don't wanna say this out loud. I recently added a bunch of Riddim CD's to my selection. I specifically snatched up ones with mi Lady Saw (although she is certainly no damsel in distress!), Ce'Cile and early RED RAT singles! Now on to some new business...

1.) Whether ya call 'em Riddim Driven, Riddim Rider or as Greensleeves simply calls 'em Rhythm Albums, try explaining what one is to somebody whose head doesn't soak up Reggae sounds like a thirsty sponge.

2.) After You figure that out...then try explaining to the non-believer WHY you would need 15 to 20 versions of the same backing track with different singers voicing their own unique take. Yep.

Having said that...a good riddim CD should play like a suite of music. A lot of classical compositions use the reoccuring theme technique.

Note... I'm not gonna break riddim CD's down tune by tune 'cause of that whole attention span deficit thing I got going... so I'll name the names of who I feel walks away owning the Riddim. You know.. who the show stopper is. The star who threatens to steal the show will be named the runner up. Easy enough.

EARTH, WIND "N" FLAMES

Release date of 2003 with executive producer credits going to Rohan Fuller for JAH SNOW CONE PRODUCTIONS.



I guess the image this Riddim is supposed to conjour up is the swirling storms of Mother Nature's fury. But all I feel is a nameless and faceless angry fist raised inna middle of a mob. Leaves my cold.



I tried to warm to it, but every time I spun it, I would keeping skipping tracks till nothing was left. Sure this Riddim is booming and pumping but even Bouny Killer falls apart with this mess. That never happens to the "Poor Peoples Governer". I gave it a rounded up 2 outta 5 for all the talented tries. Hey, Earth Worm and Killer Bee gave it their all.

SEXY LADY EXPLOSION

Release date of 2003 with credits going to Christopher "Longman" Birch for BIGYARD MUSIC. The liner notes state he plays all the instruments. Damn.



Top ta bottom, front ta back, every track is killer. In fact this set opens with Bounty Killer working with Angel Doolas. A trend I notice with these VP Riddim Driven discs...if the "Poor People's Governor" is to be included than he starts the proceedings. VP's strategy must be to come out blazing with your biggest guns. I wouldn't want to follow the Bounty Killer but the Wayne Marshall selection holds itself steady. I find myself liking Wayne Marshall more and more. Track 5 is this catchy all-star jam featuring Shaggy/Brian and Tony Gold/Sean Paul and Will Smith that somehow doesn't sink under it own excessive weight. Know what I mean? This set doesn't sag in the middle either-T.O.K. see to that. T.O.K. always have that unfair advantage of an unlimitd vocal range sweetened with four part harmonies. Boy band? Nah. They are the closest 1960's Detroit comes to the New Millennium Kingston. Every cut all good for the ear drums. "What Up Papi" by Danny English featuring Tia have chemistry. They are my show stealer. Bounty Killer's "Ice & Alize" takes the top honour of show stopper for me. I love how he strips a Riddim down to it's bare essentials and then builds back those subtle nuances.



The Riddim is a mid tempo shaker with an upbeat digital pulse. An added touch of sultry Spanish style trumpets dropped in the mix slow cooks the mood. Perfect. 4.99999 outta 5

OH NO!

IT'S RED RAT!!!!


This is my answer to the WHY question. Why? I have no idea. I am completely dumfounded. If you were to play this CD right now, I would have trouble deciding whether I should laugh you straight outta tha door or quick kick inna tha pants. But and this is a huge but; every once in awhile I absolutely love this CD. Every song! Not just the “Love Them Bad” duet with Buju. Yep, at least 5 times a year, I am man enough to say I love this CD!

Love it or hate there is no denying the rouge rodent’s unique delivery. The boy does possess a style he can call all his own. Everything else about the lad might be a gimmick but oh those vocals. Try singing along with these tunes, you probably can’t. Unfortunately, going through puberty changed everything for the lad. Yeah, growing up sucks….



I would not call this CD a guilty pleasure for me because most of the time I rate it a 1 outta 10. I don’t know if it has to do with the position of the moon or the amount of sleep I get or even if it’s something in the water. Like I said every so often I love this CD and rate it a full 10 outta 10.



The Rat in adulthood. I wonder if he regrets his past redness. You know what? I know when I was 16, I didn't get mobbed by screaming girls! So the lad shouldn't be too embarrrassed. Woman. They change your whole way of thinking.

WHATS NEXT...

BOY BANDS! Whoa, no need to call me that! Technically, Scare Dem Crew is/was a boy band by definition. So is the T.O.K. So am I saving face yet? Yeah I know... book reports, beat poets and now boy bands. "At least that Achis guy gives us videos with Goldee getting dressed in the morning sun!" I hear ya...Chaque Jour

It's a ZOO in here... I'll answer a few questions that nobody asked. White Mice (who?), Red Rat (why?), Tiger (what?) and
I will even add Snagga Puss to that list. And if you can listen through an entire CD worth of his songs without going brain dead, I will personally cut your grass and clean your gutters for a full year.

RIDDIM RIDERS and RIDDIM DRIVEN. A well put together Riddim CD should play out like a classical suite* of music.

*a set of instrumental compositions, originally in dance style, to be played in succession.

JAMAICAN WARRIORS pt. 3

Okay, time to get to the point here!

First off...this book is not trying to detail the history of Reggae. What this book does try to explain is what ingredients make Reggae a tasty concoction. This book stirs in the Rastafarian beliefs, the ghetto realities and the individual David’s that stood ground against the British Goliath. This book surveys the birth lands and home places of the faith and the music’s founders. Writer Stephen Foehr even walks the same path to Settlement that Thomas Howell did back when he took Marcus Garvey’s preaching to heart and mind. Garvey’s was preaching about the stolen Black Man and the newly crowned king of Ethiopia (Abyssinia). These preachings shaped the beginnings of Rastafarian beliefs. I get the feeling Foehr is an old time roots fan but a disbeliever of the faith. At one point he cautions the reader by comparing strict Rasta ideals to Taliban doctrine. He mentions that dictator Joseph Stalin is responsible for hundreds of deaths due to his nations famine. Then follows that tid-bit of info with Emperor Haile Selassies and his country’s deadly drought. He leaves you to connect the dots.

This book offers bus schedule hints. How to find Jamaica's best-secluded beaches. Where else are you going to get slow drunk on overproof rum and eyeball the bikinied Nubian nubiles? This book covers JA's jerk pork. Not an ital Rasta's favorite. Where to get the best cup of Blue Mountain grown coffee.

This book, which is published in the year 2000, calls modern Dancehall a walking corpse! Foehr even calls a festival spearheaded by Capleton a concert of hate!!! What??? Get over it old man.

I feel Stephen Foehr is an outsider looking in. He definitely equates Reggae with Bob Marley. The book's author also gives me the impression that deep down he feels that real Reggae died on 11 May 1981. I get the feeling he is a tourist when he visits Reggae music. I do recommend this book for those who are new to the music. Stephen Foehr is no dummy; he overstands yard culture and Nyabinghi drumming. He knows his history but seems to have written this book for frat boys planning to go on vacation.

JAMAICAN WARRIORS pt. 2

Lifted directly form his book…
”It makes white kids jump up and down at reggae concerts and shout “Jah”. These same kids would not be caught dead shouting out in praise of God at a rock concert”. (Page 107)

With that sentiment in mind…the time was the early 80’s and the place was Rhode Island’s capitol city, Providence. Back in those ancient times Reggae concerts were exclusively populated by white folks. Mostly deadhead hippie types with a few anarchy punkers tossed in to balance the vibes. Capitol city did have an extremely tiny population of Rastas. Four or five musicians from Jamaica. They either got lost on their way heading to NYC or were lying low from NYC’s finest. I never got the story straight. They were my next-door neighbors and their weed was strong enough to drop a charging bull.
I worked back then day in and day out in ghetto/barrio. Heard lots of great music blasting but never anything from JA. The homies pounded forties to Run DMC and LL Cool Jay. I would ask around about Reggae/Dancehall and the answer was always “that’s black hippy shit” followed by, “and that shit ain’t cool.”
Then a few years slipped by and the West Coast battled the East for supremacy with new styles. One style caught my attention. It was the most bloodshot sound I had yet to hear on the radio. Two words besides "Holy shit"…Cypress Hill. All of a sudden Bob Marley posters started popping up. Fades were starting to grow out. Sure groups like the Deep South’s Arrested Development had already reached into the roots bag but were passed over as fluffy intellectuals. Attitudes change. Styles repeat and after many years, the ghetto gospel of reggae came back home to the ghettos/barrios of the world. Even the Gangsta dropped odes to the Chronic!
Now when I breathe in the second hand ganja smoke of a proper Reggae or Dancehall show, I scan a crowd made up of everybody. Black and white folks. Red, gold and green folks. Both crazy baldheads and plainclothes Rastas. Old and young. Truly reaching that “One Love” ideal. Works for me.



This album cover is the most aggressive advertising campaign ever undertaken by a non-government agency. Like drawing in a lung full of righteous smoke this album cover drew thousands of curious seekers to Reggae.

JAMAICAN WARRIORS pt. 1

I know I promised a review of Beth Lesser’s two incredible reads on Dance Hall but I haven’t found any words fitting yet, so while Stephen Foehr’s Jamaican Warriors is fresh in the frontal lobes….

Lifted directly form his book...
...“However, expecting DJ fans to give equal loyalty to burning spear, for example, is akin to believing that hardcore Metallica fans will spend equal money buying Johnny Mathis CDs.” (page 231)

It is not what he wrote that made me angry; he's right!

This post is going to be demographically and politically incorrect. I have been educated to fact that the youth that drops his cash on the latest Vybz Kartel smash could give a Red Rat’s ass about the latest Augustus Pablo reissue. Boring old man music he is supposed to say. Grandma used to hum those Riddims. Polar opposites claim those scholars in the know. Today’s music comes from a completely different world. Huh? I am confused. A Google map shows the same Kingston Parishes, right? Some of the same yards even. Why the split then. Is it that old secular verses sacred argument? No.

Stranger still…most of the world thinks Reggae comes from only one man. This one man is universally accepted as the human embodiment of Reggae Music itself…His name ladies and gentleman-Robert Nesta Marley.
More adventurous souls will find Peter Tosh along their way. Those individuals that completely abandon common sense may even come across Bunny Wailer’s solo work. I absolutely love Bob. Been listening to him for over 25 years but he is only one of million. Come on people take chances. This rant only applies to the age impaired. Or those individuals with challenged common sense.


(my personal trainer!)

I hit the treadmill with Elephant Man threatening to blow up my speakers. I go about daily chores to Tenor Saw. He informs me to ring the alarm cause another sound is dying. Actually many sounds have died only to be resurrected again. So many of today’s Riddims started life during the late 60's Rocksteady daze. When I need to make sense of this mad world that surrounds me, I reason Rastafarian teachings through Burning Spear. Yes.


(my spiritual advisor!)

I fall deep into dreamland to King Tubby exploring sonic possibilities.


(my sleep agent to the dream world!)

Why can I not enjoy all of ‘em. There is Dancehall music to motivate. There is Reggae music to contemplate. There is Dub music to meditate. Life cannot be Fyah and Brimstone all the time. I consider myself to be serious minded so I should snub my nose at Alaine and her silly little love songs? Hell no, there is music to hold your lady tight. (Or ladies to hold your mister tight.)


(my dream girl!)

Therefore I am theoretically wrong for enjoying all variations. I must narrow my mind. Reach for a one-dimensional approach. My TASTE should reflect my AGE. My mid-forty something experience tells me to choose safe and be afraid of the young Black man holding the microphone. Not because he is Black dummy but because his generation is gonna push me out and put me in an old age home!