This is a Part Two to this. I called that “Balearic Reggae”, because there were tales and histories attached (there`s enough in the bag for a Part Three. We still haven`t reached Papa Winnie). The selection on this one is maybe less obvious (bar a Gregory Isaacs that got booted), and the strong memories are fewer. There`s more to continuing the vibe than stringing together a series of songs with “love” and “ecstasy” in the title (where`s that Lovers version of Barry White when you need it?), so Balearic maybe, Reggae definitely. Hopefully the sun`s shining where you are (Japan is still shrugging off typhoons and the last of the monsoon).
An Acid House back room playing London youth club music. Hits that cater to a nostalgia for pre-Balearic teenage house parties, slow dancing and heaving petting. Farah slacks and tie-blouses. Parties where everyone could turn up with their records in carrier bag, safe, moments before the days of the taxman were upon us. Last gasps of a unity forged in common childhoods, in neighbourhoods, before inner city pressures forced all young men and women to check themselves and reach for and decide on an identity. Junjo Lawes and Scientist are the sound of trouble, across the street, and always just around the corner.
Rude boys with sweet falsettos and a belief that music will lift them out of the ghetto. DJs with hard-ons. Northern Soul covers. Princes preaching humanity. Veteran vocalists moving with the times, and a take on Rick James` down on one knee, serenading weed. Mary wanna play around. Skinhead Blue Beat shuffles, and happy, strutting “Django” tributes. Jacob Miller sings, “Love is a drug that will do you no harm”, but only love can break your heart.