SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES!

The DUB POETS! I see ya making faces.
First books and now poetry? What's next... Ital cooking recipes?


Mutabaruka's first recorded masterpiece.

Crazy hype surrounded this man and his Check It record before it dropped. Ridiculous rumors spread like germs on a dirty toilet seat. Dangerous, some critics accused this man of being to their caucasian cause. Excuse me, why are KKK wannabes penning pop music articles anyway? (Gary Bushnell, that putz from Sounds) Enough nonsense.

One thing for certain, Mutabaruka chooses the right words. He carefully weighs their impact. And those words will stick to the insides of your subconscious forever. There are only a handful of riffs, rhymes and beats that are always stuck on repeat in my head. Jimmy Garrison's lonely bass walk thru the break in Coltrane's A love Supreme. Those notes will pop up outta nowhere from deep within my psyche. The first 12 bars of Miles Davis's “So What” will work its way through my mind like an automatic reflex. Say if I go out food shopping and I'll be checking the freshness of the produce and with no self-control I will start mouthing the words to Mutaburka's “Angola Invasion.” People shopping around me get a little spooked. I will be deciding whether or not I want raisins in my bran and the tune, “De System,” will come outta my mouth like bad Karaoke because only I can hear the music. It is fun to watch the old ladies scatter. In fact by the time I finish shopping almost every song will run through my mind and mouth. This CD is forever etched into the walls of my Cerebellum. You know, that part of the brain that deals with primal instincts and performs basic functions. That explains my reaction to it. My copy of Check It is pressed by Alligator Records, a Chi-town blues label. That actually makes sense. Strange though, as much as love this album, I have never heard the follow ups to it. Maybe I don’t want to damage my original impression.


Linton Kwesi Johnson

This gent was born and raised on the island but was shipped off by a business decision to Merry Ole England to work the hallowed lecture halls of London's Acadamia. I guess the big bosses figured he was too pen and paper for the rudies crowd. Then again, he has become a distinguished eminence of British Society, so maybe that decision was his. Either way, this gent drops his words and beats as a cultural weapon.