Buju has been
all over the dancehall map. With the tides of reggae constantly
shifting from spiritual upliftment to celebration of earthly pleasures,
it’s hard for an artist to stand their ground while satisfying
a diverse audience. On “Friends For Life,” Buju tries
to keep all the plates spinning. Although still showcasing the devotion
to the almighty that first blossomed on his classic “’Til
Shiloh,” Buju also takes steps back towards the Mr. Loverman
persona that reigned on earlier work like “Voice Of Jamaica.”
That’s not to say that slackness is the order of the day however,
as Banton displays nothing but respect for the fairer sex while
praising them up. Most of the album’s best cuts find Buju toasting
over the past year’s best riddims such as “Surprise”
on “Paid Not Played” and “Diwali” on the singalong
“Tra La La,” or over classic late eighties beats as with
“Spectacular.” Those looking for their roots fix get it
on a worthy and respectful remake of Peter Tosh’s “Mama
Africa,” as well as on the album’s strongest song, the
empowering chant-based “Up Ye Mighty Race.” The incorporation
of hip-hop into the flow yields mixed results however, with the
too smooth “Damn” feeling out of place, in addition to
Fat Joe’s Jamaican flow on the otherwise seductive “Good
Times” featuring Beres Hammond. With the vibe bouncing all
over the place, it’s hard to sustain a mood while listening
to “Friends For Life,” but that’s not such a bad
thing. When Buju gets swinging over a classic Duke Reid ska beat
on “Feeling Groovy,” you know it’s just a master
of his craft experimenting a bit. Let the man have his fun, you
might too
LEE “SCRATCH
PERRY”
JAMAICAN E.T.
EThe latest
from reggae’s resident alien actually came out last year, but
missed the pages of Reggae Trax. Just over a month ago, it won the
often-controversial Grammy award for Best Reggae Album of the year.
So is this a case of the golden phonograph going to reggae-lite
or a worthy reward for one of the genre’s classic icons? There’s
no easy answer. As one of the premier early dub scientists, Perry
has always created music that has provoked all kinds of reactions:
fascination, indifference, and downright confusion. Things are no
different on “Jamaican E.T.” Employing a band that works
its way through reggae, hip-hop and even rhythm and blues (The Staple
Singers’ “I’ll Take You There” is reworked on
one track) Perry overdubs the mix with layers of his notorious chants.
It’s hard to know exactly what he’s going on about, but
with a good pair of headphones one can make out numerous references
to the downfall of Babylon, UFOs and Perry’s own greatness.
It’s intriguing on tracks like the swirling “Mr. Dino
Koosh Rock” but gets meandering and repetitious after 15 tracks.
Furthermore, the crisp, almost-rock mix seems out of place with
the sense of mysticism that Scratch is shooting for. It may be unfair,
but it makes one wish for the heaviness of his earlier work with
the Upsetters or the pre-superstar Wailers. More admirable in concept
than in execution, “Jamaican E.T.” is best appreciated
as an out of this world novelty.
