I can easily wrap my mind around the idea of repatriation. I would love to walk the same ground as my ancestors. My own journey would take me to two different worlds, the old and the new World. Although, by now, it is safe to say that the whole world is in used condition. My momma’s side takes me to the West Indian island of Saba and on my pop’s side, to the heel of Italy.
What I do not overstand is why someone would leave the ghettos of Kingston for the cold damp slabs of concrete known as London. If I am to be poor, at least I have the sun shining in my eyes and an ocean breeze blowing through my dreads. Sort like substituting the comfort a mothers embrace for the hard grip of your former colonizer. This has me scratching my head. Maybe it is safer being poor in England, where there is no ghetto gun play like in parishes of Kingston? Maybe the Queen actually does offer better human rights?
Where am I going with this little tale and what does it have to do with the gentleman now going by the name of Ghetto Priest and his Onu-Sound release, Vulture Culture. This man is a citizen of the British empire. Some scholars argue that Reggae created outside the cradle of Jamrock is the ruse of charlatans. Is this record guilty of being a fake? Sure the accent is different. Okay, the riddims are not the usual suspects and the topics are not the same politics of the tropics. So is this a Reggae record? Well not completely, he claims to have thrown experimental, folk, easy listening and some good old fashion roots into the mix. Do not let this stop you from spinning it. Ghetto Priest was a thug that went by the name Squidz and after his last incarceration, discovered the Rastafari faith. Strange that being caged behind bars can free up ones soul! Saba, by the way, is that little dot on the map, somewhere between St. Kitts and St. Maarten.
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