WHO?

HAWKEYE

In a mere decade from now, humanity loses it's collective mind, and engages in an orgy of war. Pushing the red button till there is complete oblivion. 

Skip to the post apocalyptic nuclear fallout zone that was once my home. Future archaeologists find a lead lined box marked important. This box contains my VP Records RIDDIM DRIVEN collection. Must be almost a hundred of 'em. The scientists perform some quick on the spot calculations and determine that HAWKEYE was the centuries most popular Reggae star! 

I hear ya mouthing who? 

Yep, he voices on dozens of 'em. Talented enough to be more than just mere filler, but not memorable enough to shine. I mean, when ya stick him between a stomping ELEPHANT MAN and a mighty CAPLETON fyah tune, who is gonna pay attention to the unlucky bastard stuck in the middle? 

Yep...not me. 

AND IN THE BEGINNING...

Turn your history books back to the first page. Mento is the current rage. Independence is still being celebrated. A band of like minded JAZZ musicians start jamming together.  A conscious effort to create a brand new musical language is being made. Mento was basically Calypso spoken through Jamaican accents. How do ya change things up? Start messing with the foundation, the bass and drums. For this we have Lloyd Brevett and Lloyd Knibb to thank. This band called themselves the Skatalites. Most of the band were Alpha Boys School graduates. Blame the school for getting these boys hooked on music. Similar story take place almost six decades earlier down in NAWLIN'S with the COLORED WAIFS HOME. Among that school's "juvenile delinquents" was the musical prodigy, jazz trumpeter Louis Armstrong. 

The Skatalites were the house band for Coxson Dodd's Studio One. Jackie Mittoo was Studio One's resident musical arranger.

Problem is every member of this swinging SKA orchestra was the top boss of his instrument. Clashing egos and different directions splintered it's existence to the core in less than three measly years. Out of all this debris came the first bands to lay down the Riddims that still survive strong today. Bands like Soul Vendors or Tommy McCook and the Agrovators. 

Whether you actually enjoy the classic sounds of Reggae's golden past, or you just give that era big respect; once you develop a sweet spot for reggae music, you want to be in on all it's secrets. You want to know where this incredible music came from. Like every other art form that bubbled up out of the desperate underground to flow into ears of mass acceptance; Reggae has the most incredible cast of characters. Each with their own story on how Jamaica gave birth to this third world musical take-over. The contents of this record are valuable. Huge historical significance in these grooves. This music is steeped in soul. It's soaked in funky vibes and then run wild through the Jamaican music machine.

This record has that swinging sixties groove of peace, love and lets take the revolution to the streets man. Ya dig? 

There is some straight Jazz on this record that may scare the uninitiated. Remember..our beloved Reggae music began as a homegrown take on American big band swing jazz. So big horn sounds fill the empty spaces. Jackie plays inna way laid back heavy Hammond B organ groove. Witness his take on the Beatles Elenor Rigby. There is darkness to the tune. Gone is Ringo's conventional drums patterns. He gives it African roots. How? With NYAHBINGHI beats!

Jackie star rises somewhere between Jimmy "Back at the Chicken Shack" Smith and Billy Preston. And Jackie's musical contribution should be recognised way beyond that of just Reggae aficionados.

STATE OF PARANOIA

Realtors have a catch phrase when marketing a house for sale; they call it CURB APPEAL. First impressions are everything, so when you roll up to a property that's for sale, how the front yard is groomed has to make you feel welcome. Maybe give you that warm and fuzzy feeling like your going to Grandma's for milk and cookies. 


Obviously this package that was delivered to my front door this morning shot my property value sky-high. Contains solid gold selections.

Umm, the back yard...

“You’re throwing your life away.”

Yep, one industrial sized dumpster at a time.

This makes dumpster number seven!  I’m cleaning house and clearing my mind. I inherited what amounts too a junkyard. And in today’s busted economy somebody’s junk is nobody’s treasure. My Dad developed a fever for hording after is first run in with death. He beat terminal cancer in round one.  He would say every little nut and bolt had a purpose and then store 'em in tin cans according to size.

Now the soul crushing responsibility of erasing my late Father from his castle falls on me. Yeah guilt.

I’m bringing the property back to its former glory so it can be sold. Comes down too fucking money as usual. I can’t afford to buy out my sibling’s share and vice versa. I’m facing what I hope is the solution to my, “Me against the State legal troubles.” My big sis is facing a nickel behind bars if found guilty. 

Shit. Did ya read my last post on Studio 1? If ya did crumple it up and toss it in the trash. I just peeled off the plastic wrap protecting the jewel case of JACKIE MITTOO'S NOW released by STUDIO 1. They've forsaken the back catalog ad. The insert now offers new insight into the massive historical importance that the keyboard wizard had on JAMAICA'S music. Umm...you knew that about JACKIE right?

I hate to make excuses as to why my love affair with my blog has been cooling off. Between a big mess to clean up and an even bigger legal mess, my mind is elsewhere these daze. Those troubles of mine-

For the past few years I’ve been performing a dance routine with the State Of Rhode Island Family Court. The dance we’ve been doing is called the Rhode Island Shakedown. It is a two-step two-faced snappy little number. They issue arrest warrants and I show up with positive proof of support. They seize my assets and freeze my bank accounts. I slap back with indisputable proof of support. They illegally pull my drivers license and I push back harder with conclusive evidence that all my child support has been paid in full.

What really set me off a few months back was when the State extorted my tax return money without representation. (Hey didn’t this country take up arms with Briton’s King over that shit?) The government stole the money for the daughter’s prom dress and shoes! So I two-step shuffled myself in front of a JUDGE yesterday to “plead” my case. I casually mentioned that I had received a bill for $37 thousand dollars from them. Five years ago it was an insane amount. Something like $140,000. My hair turned white! The powers that be of course denied it. Their records show that I only owed them a mere $7000.  It is not polite to lie too my face. I waved my copy of the bill like a victory flag. The Judge asked to see it. His “Your Honor” said I was right and what does the State have to say about that? Probably just a typo.

Believe it or not the liaison for Family Court Child Support lost the paper in a matter of moments. In the walking space between the Judges bench and the Defendants table my copy of the bill was misplaced. When I asked about getting it back. The powers that be were dumbfounded and mumbled that they had handed it back. A big fat nope. My big mouth then took on a life of it’s own (No surprise there!) I accused the Family Court as being a circus run by clowns. Sad clowns. Inept individuals drunk with power. 


It is a fine line between being right and being in contempt of court. The many happily divorced couples waiting at the rear of the room for their turn at “justice” laughed. Even the Judge chuckled at the liaison’s expense. I won round one.

Okay… let me rewind the story. Several years back the State lost me in the system. Gone was every Alimony check. Five years worth in fact. Gone was every Child support payment. Ten years worth in fact. So they made out a bill starting from the beginning and tacked on interest that would make some Sicilian Business men blush.

 I brought them a suitcase filled with every pay stub, (automatic garnishment of my pay.) I brought them every returned personal check paid directly to my ex-wife. I even brought them my ex-wife as my corroborating witness!

 Every time they say sorry for the inconvenience and every payment is now updated into the system. You, Mr. Nico’s Big Mouth are all set. A few years quietly pass then BOOM outta nowhere the State drops the same bomb on me. “You owe us blood from a stone.”

When you’re a male of the species and you walk into Family Court, you are automatically profiled as a dead-beat dad. And the powers the be treat you like a mangy dog. They take advantage of their power over you. They fuck with ya!

I’ve done the right thing from the beginning but the State is out ta persecute me. I’ve never defaulted on my Child Support obligations. Whether I’m working or unemployed my daughter’s needs always come first.  So the State in all their infinite wisdom sees fit too punish the good one. Punish the responsible one. Make an example out of me.

I don’t make money with my big mouth but I can definitely save a few bucks using my big mouth. I always represent myself in a court of LAW. I simply inform the Judge that with the three grand I’m saving... I would rather it put towards my daughter’s future than give it to a Lawyer for his monthly Mercedes payment.

Oh, and doing business in the State of Rhode Island…it pays to be paranoid. 

STUDIO 1

Smell that? 


Yeah...my post went rancid. I left this post out uncooked for over a month! 


Popped into the microwave and here it is...

I spent all day tearing down a stockade style fence that I installed over twenty-five years ago. My dad offered to paint and do the bodywork on my first car if I put up the fence. My dad led me to believe that it was an even deal. He picked at my car on and off for a few weeks till he was finished. No sweat. Me? I spent over two weeks just digging out the post-holes. The whole project took me the whole summer of that year. My dad taught me a very valuable lesson...never trust anyone! 

Speaking of not being able to trust someone...

Back in the day JAMAICA was spilt into two warring political factions. Still basically a two party system today. Bustamante's Jamaica Labour Party and Manley Senior’s People's National Party. Each boasted better life for all walks of folks. The usual rhetoric. So no matter who is in the drivers seat... the poor always end up walking. 

Clement "Sir Coxsone" Dodd

Back in the day JAMAICA had two studios that ruled the scene. Duke Reid's Treasure Isle Studio and Coxone Dodd's Studio One. Sworn enemies during their reign but they retired as friends. Unlike their political counter-parts who kept the poor down trodden, these guys put boogie in your shoes. These studio’s provided the soundtrack to the SUFFERAH’S cause. Hell, the music pouring out of these studios could put a smile on your face.

It's funny how many roots snobs snub the new stuff and accuse today’s young LIONS of ripping off the riffs and clipping the words or stealing the soul of their 1970’s heroes.

But even back then big studio groups like the Aggravators or The Revolutionaries were already pilfering the “old” riddims. So everything these folks hold dear to their heart were recycled! Most of these roots rockers riddims were already begged, borrowed and stolen from the golden Rocksteady era!

 If I was eavesdropping in on an argument between these two giants, I would pick Coxone’s side. So this post will defend STUDIO ONE. This record label’s legacy is well represented by several different record companies.

Heartbeat out of a cold and concrete Boston Massachusetts puts together some nice deluxe editions. They re-release actual albums and tie together all the loose singles and bonus b-sides. A history of what your holding in your hand is explained in the linear notes. Premium goods at a knock off price.

London's SOUL JAZZ is not a label run by businessmen pushing units. You know the type…it makes no difference if their selling hotdogs or Reggae music, as long as their supply meets a money demand.  SOUL JAZZ is a label produced by a group of fans with the means. They release records that they themselves wanna hear. Thankfully these folks also have top choice taste.

Sadly these labels are disappearing like drops of precious water inna drought. BLOOD and FIRE and MAKASOUND are drying up.

SOUL JAZZ has a great run going on different themed compilations like Studio One Rockers, Studio One Soul, Studio One Scorcher Instrumentals and Studio One...you get the idea. All necessary goodies to complete your selection. The best way to get these riddims stuck in your conscious is to stuff these sounds in your ear till ya head expands. It is like knowledge…the best place too store it is in your mind.

Okay, last but not least is the facsimile label itself. The re-releases they offer up, offer no new linear notes packed with new insights into the music. The CD booklet opens into what is essentially an advertisement for their other product releases. Not necessarily a bad thing tho, because it reminds me that I need, not want, but need two more JACKIE MITTOO discs to satisfy my collection. Remember JACKIE? You should!

 Okay a brief background biography usually a short paragraph long is tacked on last page.  Like an after thought.

Although limited frills meet the eyes; great music still greets the ears. In the end it is about the music anyway. I’m just thankful it's back in print. Their catalog boasts both Dennis Brown's and Horace Andy's debuts. Big stuff right there! 


Oh and my first car...

My 73 didn't have the cool hatch-back feature but it was orange. Concerning the ladies? Thank JAH I had great hair!

STUDIO ONE

The golden oldies of Studio One... that is if I don't get endlessly interrupted tomorrow like I did today! Lawyers calling (good) metal scrapers (good) and my seventeen year old daughter with prom dress fittings (very bad!)

CE'CILE!

Why I listen to CE’CILE?

The long lost original BAD GYAL version.

 I’ll start with a biological reason. 

My male of the species DNA consists of both the X and Y chromosome, so when I catch a glimpse of her irresistible double X chromosomes, I turn caveman. 

Basically one part of my brain turns to cerebral mush while the suppressed primal animal takes control.

The E.P. that left everybody wanting more!

The non-scientific explanation… she makes fucking great music. It’s that simple.

Her music is aural pheromones. It shimmies across the dance floor in impossible high heels. CE'CILE is ladies room girlfriend consul between hot gyals fixing their lipstick in the mirror. She is dirty minded and full bodied as CRISTAL CHAMPAGNE. She is bubbly pillow talk with a playful bite.  She is everything feminine without the motherly instinct. 

A delicious photo session packed version from Kingstone Records!

She pleads alluringly if she's WORTH IT? 

Sure six of the big tunes here are shared between all three releases. I know she's worth it because I've bought both the BADGYAL and the WAITING versions and I don't feel ripped off! Somehow these disc play as very different affairs.

The no-expense spared version from SoBe Entertainment. 2008

I feel like I'm cheating on mi LADY SAW!

ACHIS

The online reggae encyclopedia known as ACHIS is under the impression that he is going to retire his very necessary blog by next year. Apparently, ACHIS is unaware that his massive readership is not gonna let the happen. Even if I personally have to chain him to his computer's keypad...so be it! Hey, I'll put out a fresh bowl of water every day for ya! I'm not inhumane ya know. 

No seriously, this void of flowing information will form an insidious black hole deep within the Internet universe. We may never find balance. 

Now I lost count after reading only 42,000,000 reggae reviews that he's written and generously posted. Don't believe me about those review numbers? 

Besides his BLOG check his AMAZON "page" for proof. AMAZON are the Internet universes biggest entity and ACHIS'S reviews take up more than half their carbon footprint! What writer in his right mind wants to follow in those shoes? My own BLOG wears a smallish size 9 PUMA. 

Yep out of all the endless reviews ACHIS has written, I guess I'll allow him one mistake! RICHIE SPICE'S "IN THE STREETS OF AFRICA" ranked a 2.5 out of 5. That means it is 50% bad. Are ya laces tied too tight?