Jah Woosh: An Average Version

It’s funny that early career failures wind up being simply harbingers of latter day success.

After converting to Rastafarianism subsequent to Haile Selassie’s visit to Jamaica in 1966, Neville Beckford attempted to form a singing group. The early auditions failed to impress any of the island’s music impresarios prompting Beckford to head out on his own under the name of Jah Woosh – and no, there aren’t too many more silly names out there in the field of reggae music.

Maybe because of his ridiculous moniker Jah Woosh’s early singles still weren’t able to impact an ever expanding group of reggae enthusiasts. After working sound systems and the like, the singer and toaster was eventually granted the opportunity to record a self titled album in 1974 alongside Rupie Edwards.

The spate of rockers offered a glimpse at what was next instead of a fully formed and perfected approach to music. With Edwards’ backing, though, Jah Woosh would soon move on to work with some other big names in JA music.

1976 wound up being Jah Woosh’s banner year. He released no less than three full length albums – and it can be assumed that there were a spate of accompanying singles. But in addition to Chalice Blaze and Psalms of Wisdom, he put out Dreadlocks Affair.

Assisted by Ossie Hibbert and the Mighty Cloud Band, Jah Woosh went in on twelve tracks that were recorded at Chanel One with King Tubby working the vocal mics and such. With such a deep roster of support, there was little chance of Dreadlocks Affair coming off as anything less than stellar.

As time’s worn on, though, the disc hasn’t retained too much punch. And because of the blooming of the JA recording industry during the ‘70s, Dreadlocks Affair now sounds like a pretty average effort even as Jah Woosh presents himself as a talented toaster.

The title track – and its musical backing – isn’t stilted or subpar, but seems average in comparison to other recordings of the time and renders the track (and most of the disc) forgettable. There certainly aren’t any awful transgressions here, but there’s also nothing that’s too memorable.

“Rocking Blues” – a re-imagination of Bob Marley’s “Talking Blues” -  is probably the most endearing track. The obvious problem with that is the fact that the song is culled from someone else’s catalog. Of course, the verses are switched up with Jah Woosh speaking extemporaneously about scrubbing it and dubbing it. But that doesn’t really result in a track that needs to be revisited too many times – the original’s also a bit better with its background singers.

Anyway, the rest of the disc is comprised of much the same. Nothing’s offensive although “Shimi Skank” has some troublesome backing music. The sparse sections work out pretty well, but when the entire band kicks in, there’s not too much to be pleased by.

Unfortunately for Jah Woosh, the height of his recording career isn’t all that important now, even if there’s been enough of a clamouring about for its reissue. At least someone still cares.