| I’m sure the Caribbean
heritage is more authentic than Ali Campbell’s (UB40) but
the reggae vibe that provides the main theme for this is album is
just as clichéd. The standard chop and the formulaic brass
– there’s only one place for Jamaican sounds as simple
as this: the 1970s. It’s not unpleasant in any way but I’ve
heard it all before and I’ve heard it better. Yes, there’s
much more than reggae for sure – the sounds of now are in
effect – invent your own sub-genre/hybrid from the following
list: dancehall, ragga, UK rap, garage – the usual suspects.
A man gives each of his three sons an unripe tomato.
The first son for fear of wasting his tomato eats it on the spot
– premature and tasteless. The second son wants to save his
precious paternal fruit for a special occasion so puts it away for
safekeeping – and sure enough a few months later he is invited
to a pizza party where everyone must bring an ingredient –
his best mate volunteers the bass - his girlfriend will bring the
jalapenos - the host will provide the cheese and the DJ has got
some succulent Sicilian olives – only tomato needed for the
perfect pizza – but as the second son opens his antique chest
he finds one rotten tomato which has stained the love letters that
were also being kept there. The third son waits ‘til his tomato
is optimum ripe and slices it in half – takes one half to
Pamplona and throws it in the festival where it explodes to maximum
juicy effect. The other half he leaves in his back yard and when
he returns from Spain realises he has invented the sun-dried tomato.
Lotek is the second son. The pizza party is a great
idea but he is too late to be original – too cautious to be
fun. Where’s the risk?
words: Stig
Have your say here
|