These reviews appear in the March/April 2024 issue of Caribbean Beat Magazine.
(Self-Released)
On this his seventh album, Reginald Cyntje — pronounced SIN-chee — continues his musical exploration of emotional themes and the intangible through instrumental jazz. With his trombone as lead, this US Virgin Islander explores in a quiet contemplative way the vulnerability of being in love. “Vulnerability is key to authenticity,” he says. “Being vulnerable takes strength, courage, and emotional intelligence. A gentle touch.” That gentle touch is revealed in five tunes on this short EP. They sashay smoothly, and exist within a fine balance of subdued tempo and an earnest reach for moods that showcase languid tropical vibes through bossa nova, reggae, neo-soul, and jazz. Celebration, hope, empathy, the memory of the first time, and growth are the themes highlighted here. Excellent musicianship by his quartet takes centre stage; Allyn Johnson on piano shines. An island perspective on love is always welcomed. Inspiration and reflection are encouraged.
(Self-released)
In any language, this first EP by Guadeloupean singer DaWchY can be the soundtrack to a romantic interlude that deserves repeats. “Mizik Pou Kabanné” loosely translates from Kwéyòl to “music for the bedroom”, and suffice it to say the Caribbean soul music on this production combined with the rich baritone voice of DaWchY make this music for much more than that. Reggae-dancehall, Antillean rhythms — including gwo ka, R&B/soul, and gospel — span the genres that seamlessly infuse the songs with a universal sound palette. Recorded in both Montpellier, France and his native Guadeloupe, there is an easy accessibility to this music, and an urban sheen that directs the listener to feel it. He tells us that “this project is the story of a beautiful Light behind a half-open door”. And one can sense this to be true. Any language barrier is ignored. The beauty of island music is in the rhythms that bring souls together. Bèl.
(Wise Entertainment)
Some 50 years after hip-hop’s genesis as a Caribbean-American innovation, these islands continue to produce generations of rappers who spit lyrics and rhymes that engage the ethos of that Bronx summer in 1973. Clever wordplay and syncopation, bombastic tone, metaphor, and iambic pentameter are all present on this new album by “Trinidad & Tobago’s lyricist” Micwise. The island accent is retained as a badge of honour and a kind of identity. The words tell stories that, in this case, focus on inner ideas, personal animus, and push-back on local nihilism and cynicism. He raps: Rappin’ in Trini, that … is illogical / Is what they told me and my crew that it’s mission impossible / Said it’s an American hustle, you need to get out. That sense of dread displays the often-harsh realities of island life. The Caribbean brain drain over decades has decimated the islands of Creole genius, but these artists who remain represent hope and possibilities. This album does too.
(Ghetto Youths International)
The well that is the source of Stephen Marley’s continuing reggae career springs eternal. Any expected return to his father’s catalogue guarantees legacy surrounding the Marley name, but this eight-time Grammy winner is determined not to be a clone. The 15 songs on the album act as a kind of lo-fi acoustic reassessment, an autobiography perhaps, of a music and its maker. Fast forward to 1981, my dad moved on and so did I / Inside I kept his songs alive, so they say / I’m an Old Soul living in the body of a nine-year-old / I guess I have been here before … It’s a refrain that captures the spirit of this album that has crossover potential beyond reggae. Collaborations with other reggae stars (his brothers Damian and Ziggy, and Buju Banton) and rock and roll icons (Eric Clapton and Grateful Dead founder Bob Weir), to covers of eclectic material by Frank Sinatra, The Beatles, Carlos Santana, and Ray Charles — yes, and Bob too — give the album a patina of magnitude.
© 2024, Nigel A. Campbell. All Rights
