I was under the impression that Nicodemus was a pretty well known singer, performer, chanter, toaster or however you’d like to refer to him. But that apparently isn’t the case. Again, there’s no Wiki or thorough Allmusic entry, but there is a catalog of music that can explicate any and all talents that this man possesses. His toasting style, while not uncommon, does seem to work well given his rather deep voice. He’s not the antecedent to Jurassic 5’s Chali 2na, but there aren’t too many JA singers that have a voice in the same league as this gentleman right here.

Rather the late comer, Nicodemus didn’t begin performing around the sound system circuit until the tail end of the ‘70s. Despite that as well as the fact that by the time he arrived on the scene, there was no shortage of talent, Nicodemus was quickly heralded by folks like Prince Jammy and his cohort of visionary producers. It wasn’t as a solo act, though, that this singer would make his mark initially. In a series of collaborative singles and long playing 12 inches, Nicodemus paired with everyone from Toyan and Bingy Bunny to Linval Thompson in order to spread his name around the island.

Early dancehall such as this saw an even more cloistered beginning than some other JA musics. The exaggerated patois that resulted from chanting along with the lugubrious rhythms served to make this a difficult sub-genre to find entrance to. For that reason, Nicodemus never garnered international acclaim on the same level as singers from earlier in the decade. That notwithstanding, the singer was privy to working with a number of the island’s most talented backing bands in the form of the Roots Radics, which included the aforementioned Bingy Bunny, Flabba Holt in addition to a slew of others.

That group and Nicodemus would collaborate on a number of occasions, but only recently have the results been compiled for easy digestion. The resultant Serious Nicodemus, Vol. 01 (Nicodemus meets Roots Radics at Channel One), released last year, is comprised of various stray shots recorded at the Channel One Studios in Kingston. The hospitable environs that the locale afforded all involved comes across pretty clearly on this all too short clutch of 11 tracks. There is an overarching cohesion here that belies the various recording dates. And perhaps due to that, some of the production affinities of the ‘80s don’t come off as poorly as they should.

Instead of overwhelming a track with supplemental blurps and whirrs, the songs here only add a touches of production flair, relying upon the musician’s performances and Nicodemus’ flow instead of trickery. “Father Jungle Rock” sports a bit of ‘80s keyboard, but in such scant doses, it doesn’t end up negatively affecting the track – it’s actually a bit reminiscent of Parliament for whatever reason.

And that’s pretty much how the entire disc works. There are a few places where an edit might provide for a more hospitable musical environment. But tracks like “Star Fi” are simply classics and should further confuse fans as to why this deejay isn’t better known.