WORLD MUSIC CENTRAL - www.worldmusiccentral.org

Published: August 19, 2008

Taj Weekes and Adowa - Deidem (Jatta Records, 2008)

Back for a second go-around following his 2005 debut disc Hope & Doubt is St. Lucia-born Taj Weekes and his band Adowa. Deidem sports the same strengths as Weekes’ initial offering: Great songs, crisp reggae arrangements and the melancholy-tinged sweetness of Weekes’ high, reedy, almost feminine-sounding voice.

The title of his latest translates as “All Of Us,” and he’s clearly singing with a universal heart on such tracks as the violence-deploring “Since Cain,” the love lament of “Hollow Display” and plaintive commentaries on Darfur and Hurricane Katrina via “Orphans Cry” and “Louisiana” respectively. An impassioned communicator who uses no-nonsense reggae music as his means, Weekes is precisely what the world needs more of in these troubled times.

THE BEAT

Review by: Ted Boothroyd

It doesn't often happen in reggae that an artist's lyrics will develop noticeably from one album to the next. The devotion to Jah, the homages to love and ganga and the dance, the rantings against babylon - normally all these remain intact over the years, in intensity, vocabulary and point of view. Such consistency is the standard stuff of the genre. But Taj Weekes is different.

The initial Taj Weekes and Adowa disc, Hope and Doubt, was striking for its memorable tunes, rhythms and fragile-yet-husky tenor lead vocal. But the lyrics, despite a number of impressive images ("scream out mellow lullabies"), were by and large merely serviceable. Delivering the serious themes and emotional quotient we expect of roots-based reggae, they got the job done without demanding much of the listener or revealing anything unusual in the artist.

With Deidem, Weekes' second album, there's not only noticeable development in the lyrics, there's a fundamental struggle going on. Lined up on one side is the manner in which he regards the world when he examines it intellectually. On the other side stands the legacy of his religious convictions. Although at times he puts on a brave face, he seems to realize that those two sides are suddenly refusing to be reconciled. The various ways Weekes deals with these conflicts - along with the strong melodies and performances, as before - are what make this album a welcome addition to the world's supply of reggae.

Which isn't to suggest he's coldly logical on Deidem, or that his views are immaculately argued. They're not. He's still a free-flow-of-ideas kind of guy. It's hard sometimes to decipher where one thought ends and another starts, and the minimal punctuation in the lyric sheet doesn't help. So while the choice of language ensures a strong emotional impact, the intellectual impact depends on the listener consciously making connections. But with Deidem that's part of the pleasure.

You need examples. Track one is "Angry Language." Over a powerful one-drop rhythm accompanied by wah-wah lead guitar, the singer expresses his fears: It seems I am slowly forgetting/all I learnt from a Bible page...I'm learning an angry language and I'm armed with the tools of rage...I'm afraid I might lose my composure/and destroy all the things I hold dear.

Already he's equivocating ("it seems" and "I might"). And the solution? It's more Zen-like than concrete and active: "I'm gonna seek the spaces in my thought/to unlearn what I've been taught." The yearning Clapton-inspired guitar solo is perfect accompaniment.

Track two is "Propaganda War." An organ drone leads the instrumentation, with call-and-response vocals between lead and backup singers. The lyrics at first talk of war, with its deceptions ("tailored lies") and arbitrariness ("freedom for some, captivity for the rest"), but then switch to the stark imagery that Billie Holiday made famous with Abel Meerpol's "Strange Fruit": "On a poplar tree they hanged me/strangest fruit to ever grow." The intellectual link between propaganda war and racial hatred is the listener's to make. Weekes leaves it open.

"Little Fire" uses a fussy rockers drumming style to carry along a complex metaphor about (I think) the U.S. abandoning its "polite" way and becoming the aggressor: it ends: "force rules with wrong/till right grows strong." "Since Cain" uses the Genesis story as starting point to deplore the cycle of violence; the conclusion is that "Peace can be gotten if sought." Important, difficult questions are being asked, but the only answers are meager ones, inadequate to the task. Hopeful is as strong as it gets.

And so it goes, for seven more thoughtful, memorable, tuneful songs. Weekes is concerned, involved, passionate, but without easy answers. In his first album, when what he observed simply didn't add up, he had an easy out: "Jah works in mysterious ways." But now, confronting the atrocities in Darfur or the chaos of Louisiana's floods (in a spare piano style, gorgeous melody and dry vocal manner that all channel Randy Newman), he struggles to understand and he strains to maintain his optimism, yet he doesn't evoke Jah. On a personal level, where he once wailed his self-pity for the miserable way his woman treated him, he now sings of his regret for his own role in the soured relationship.

Yes, Taj Weekes is different. As a reggae lyricist who is unafraid of  being undogmatic, he's certainly different from most of his peers, and even from the man he was in his own first album. He uses his unusual voice unusually well. His arrangements take great advantage of his fine backing vocalists and his crack team of musicians, including horn section. He writes beautiful tunes. Deidem has it all.

MOONSHINE INK

Summer usually brings out the best in us (at least it does in me!). We lounge in the sun, frolic in the fields, hike and bike through the wilderness, and listen to reggae music outdoors. This last activity brings to mind the social consciousness and idyllic awareness of the “island vibe.” While at Commons Beach recently, I was lucky to be present at the performance of roots reggae artist Taj Weekes and his talented band who have been an integral part in the revival of roots reggae (his latest album “Deidem” was recently noted on Billboard for being a part of the new resurgence of this musical genre). Due in part to his approachable nature and thanks to his manager Shirley Menard, I sat with him the following day and got to know a little bit more about the man behind the music. What I discovered immediately was that the inescapable beauty and essence of Taj Weekes is found in his humanitarian values. Much of his music delves into life’s overlooked human experiences: oppression, loss, greed, fear, inequality and injustice.

Native of the Caribbean island known as Saint Lucia, he knows what it means to fight for independence… his island was fought over many times by Europeans and finally became independent in 1976. Meanwhile a young Taj was learning about family, survival, and music. Taj recalls growing up and listening to the Roots Reggae played by his older brothers (he is the youngest of 10 siblings). Early reggae musicians were considered the “town criers” delivering the news of the world set to rhythm and rhyme. With the popularization and computerization of the “Reggae beat,” he noted a change from a listening music to a dancing music– not so terrible except that oftentimes the message was lost to the pop culture and money-hungry imitators. Thus, in his opinion, occurred a loss in the consciousness building power of the music. 

Taj is driven by the purpose of getting the message heard. I was instantly entranced by his gentle manner and fragile voice; moved by the words he spoke with thoughtful demeanor and careful measure. We discussed every topic from camping in the wild, the socio-political plight of humanity, Hurricane Katrina, Darfur, and Biblical prophecies. A committed believer in Rastafari, Taj may invoke the stereotypical image of the herb-worshipping Rasta, but he is profoundly so much more. He ponders on and delivers the state of humanity and our impact on Mother Earth through his music. His meditations and visions give rise to lyrics, which he is compelled to share with those who care to listen. While he smiles gently and speaks softly, this approachable and extremely likeable man holds a sadness deep within clearly evidenced by the lyrics found in his music.

During his cross-country travels in the U.S., he encountered a number of wandering souls and learned the history of the Native Americans; their plight and loss of land, power, and might. In homage to their struggles he wrote a song which will be found on his next album (he currently has enough material to put together eight more albums!).

During our candid discussion, I sensed the feelings of guilt he harbors for living a life filled with simple pleasures while somewhere else on the planet war is devastating the lives of many, children are dying, starving, losing their parents, struggling to survive. For this reason, the man who sings about the troubles of others does more than just raise awareness with his music. He repeatedly spoke of the “collective power of people” to right the wrongs of society and heal each other. For his part, he created They Often Cry Outreach, a charity dedicated to raising funds and educating children in poor and underprivileged societies. Undoubtedly this program is why the International Consortium of Caribbean Professionals has named him a Goodwill Ambassador.

Taj Weekes is much more than a performer. Just as the ‘70s and ‘80s gave us the thought provoking music of Bob Marley, we are today in the midst of another mystic who finds music and poetry at the heart of all of life’s experiences. The Park City Record in Utah describes him as “Bono Meets Bob Marley.” In being a writer and performer of roots reggae music, Taj Weekes provides us with the fodder needed for social consciousness and intellectual dialogue, and ultimately social change.

For information on They Often Cry Outreach and to donate to this virtuous cause visit theyoftencryoutreach.org.

MALAGUETA MUSIC - Germany

You don't need extra luggage to listen to the latest Culture Taxi Records album: It will take you straight to the sunny Caribbean, for an encounter with Taj Weekes and his highly contagious reggae. Your luggage is in the trunk, your driver ready to take off, let's go for a ride!

Taj Weekes' high voice combined with his unusually enticing melodies provide the basis for his perfectly balanced reggae. With solid keyboards, the cunning wah-wah licks of his guitar, seductive female background singers, and his complex, yet straight-forward arrangements, it becomes obvious that we are in the company of a musician who is blessed by the West-Indian gods.

Taj Weekes grew up in St. Lucia and later moved to New York. This is where, together with his band, Adowa , he released his first album, "Hope and Doubt" in 2005, starting his live career and building a solid fan community. Today marks the release of his second album, "Deidem" ("All of us"). After losing both of his parents within the same year, Taj Weekes' lyrics dealt first and foremost with his mourning. But quite soon, he began writing about the suffering of mankind instead of dwelling in self-pity. His themes expanded to universal issues:  Right underneath the floating island melodies, his music addresses current problems ranging from the environment ("Dark Clouds"), to globalization, Hurricane Katrina, or the conflict in Darfur.

I find it difficult to emphasize one particular song. Each of the melodies grabs you rapidly and continues to linger in your mind – from the melancholic "Orphan's Cry" to the irresistible "Angry Language", from the upbeat (in spite of its somber theme of humans' inclination to violence) "Since Cain" to "Kink and Crinkle."  All eleven songs bring back the magic reggae sound of the seventies, without ever sounding old. The last song of the album, the ballad "Louisiana", with its sparse piano accompaniment, continues to resonate with you for quite a while after its last chords have faded.

DAILY PLANET - TELLURIDE, CO

Album Review by: Katie Klingsporn

Taj Weekes is pretty young, but you wouldn’t know it if you just listened to him. The roots reggae singer, who’s originally from St. Lucia, has a wisdom to his words and a clear, bell-like voice that defies age. The band is touring to support their new album, “Deidem,” which is a meditation on the fragmentation in the world and uniting everyone despite it all. It’s music of promise, but it’s certainly not all sunshine and daisies — Weekes also expresses his outrage about social injustice and environmental destruction and the realities of the global economy.

BOISE WEEKLY

Published July 9, 2008

Written by: Amy Atkins 

Reef is a great place to hear pop, soul, jam or a fusion of them all. But there's something about reggae at Reef that's a little like coming home.

Taj Weekes' story follows the same path of many a roots reggae singer. The youngest of 10 children, Weekes was born and raised on the Caribbean island of St. Lucia. As a young man, he left his island home for Toronto, (brrr) Canada. A move to New York netted him Adowa, which includes Radss Desiree on bass, Shelton Garner on lead and acoustic guitar and backing vocals, Delroy Golding on percussion and Adoni Xavier on guitar just to name a few.

While working on the follow-up to their successful 2005 release, Hope and Doubt, both of Weekes' parents passed away. "I was wallowing in my grief," Weekes says in his bio, "and I wrote a song called 'Clay Dust To Dust,' which was incredibly depressing. But it was then I realized that it's not about me. Sure, I lost two people, but there are millions of people dying every day. So right then, I scrapped all the songs I had and wrote 12 new ones. I wrote about the world instead of myself."

Weekes' second release, DEIDEM is, by all means, a response to the world. Louisiana is a transparent look at the New Orleans flood from both a political point of view and a spiritual one, with little more than Weekes' unique, effeminate voice and a sorrowful piano punctuated by bits of percussion as he sings, "An unwanted rocking chair / beckons to the sky / so did the people in 's-i-ppi. / Is it race or class / oh will help come at last."

Though many of the songs on DEIDEM are heavy-hearted, an overreaching message of hope comes through in both the lyrics and the music. Hearing Weekes' and Adowa while sitting amid the island decor at Reef, it won't be hard to believe him.

THE VOICE - UK

Published: 6 July 2008; Issue: 1328

Interview by: Davina Morris 

FOCUSED: Taj Weekes

SOME people make music for entertainment.

Taj Weekes is more about inspiring people to think about the world around them. The St. Lucia-born reggae singer, along with his band Adowa, has made it his mission to give a voice to the oppressed, and he’s earned much praise for it from many in the reggae fraternity.

CLICHÉ
The idea of making ‘sufferers music’ might sound a tad cliché. After all, Weekes isn’t the first reggae artist to be a messenger for the poor and downtrodden. But there’s something special about the talented singer that has meant his music has resonated with music fans and reggae professionals alike. His new album DEIDEM– meaning ‘all of us’– has been celebrated for it’s heartfelt look at the fragmentation of the world and the search to give everyone a voice in it.

Weekes’ selflessness is, perhaps, all the more poignant when one considers his own personal losses. A few years back, Weekes’ mother died of a heart attack. Within less than a year, his father also passed away. Weekes began to compile an album with songs that reflected his pain – but then he scrapped every single tune. “I was wallowing in my grief,” Weekes recalls. “And it did take time to overcome that grief. But eventually, I looked at it like: people are dying every day. Yes, I lost two people. But there are children dying every day. Those thoughts enabled me to put things into perspective. So I scrapped all of those songs and began writing songs about the world and not just myself.” He continues: “Whether it’s Darfur, the Middle East, global warming; there’s something going on in every part of the world and we’re trying to bring it all together on one album. No one is talking to each other. The album is designed to create conversation where people can come together.”

Weekes grew up the youngest of 10 children in a family where music was everpresent. By age five, he was singing in church and by 11 he was composing his own calypso music. His older brother’s immersion in Rastafari provided him with a spiritual awakening and a context for his burgeoning worldview. He then ran with that musical baton and went on to pen songs on issues facing modern-day society. The album track Orphans Cry, with its classic reggae feel, depicts the suffering and isolation of lost children, making it vivid and real, and more than an abstraction on the TV or in a newspaper. And the song, Since Cain, with its Biblical reference to the first act of violence, laments the endless cycle of brutality while asking what it will take for it to end. But Weekes is far more than a hippy-styled, ‘peace and love’ musical messenger. When he’s not making music, he’s equally committed to his vision of making the world a better place, through his non-profit organisation, The Orphan’s Cry Outreach. The charity is dedicated to improving the lives of disadvantaged children around the world, via music, football programmes and more.

With his dedication to such worthy issues, one wonders what he makes of reggae’s more carefree elements; party tunes, ‘gal’ tunes and the like. “I think there’s a place for everything,” he says. “Sometimes people want to dance and have a good time. But I think music should also uplift and educate people and draw their attention to some of the issues going on in the world around them.”

“With the more violent elements of the music… I don’t know what would possess a man to write a song about killing somebody else. But you know, that’s his vibration. That’s just not the type of music I choose to make.” With much to say musically, it’s a good thing Weekes was never made to feel that not being Jamaican would somehow make him not credible in the world of reggae. After all, there are some closed-minded folks who feel that music can only be authentic when it’s spawned from its birthplace.

FOUNDATION
“That has never been an issue for me. And I always find it interesting when people make that an issue because nobody tends to say that hip-hop artists can’t be authentic if they’re not from America.” “Of course, Jamaica is the foundation for reggae. But I see the music like a tree: its roots are in Jamaica, but its branches have outgrown the yard and the fruit has landed in other territories.” “It’s the same with soca: people used to think that if you weren’t from Trinidad, you couldn’t make authentic soca music.” “But then artists like Alison Hinds and Rupee and Kevin Lyttle came along to prove otherwise.”

“I write from the heart and I speak about issues I’m passionate about. I believe that’s what really matters.”

DEIDEM is out now on Jatta Records.

BILLBOARD MAGAZINE

Published June 21, 2008 

Written by: Patricia Meschino

"Billboard proclaims six albums that herald the roots-reggae resurgence." Quoted from Jamaica Gleaner

Tarrus Riley, "Parables" (VP Records)
Tarrus Riley's exquisite tenor and well-constructed lyrics; the superb musical accompaniment by Kingston, Jamaica's finest; and Dean Fraser's inspiring production deliver the roots rock revival's quintessential CD. "Parables" includes crossover hit "She's Royal," but the stirring Rastafarian tribute "Lion Paw" and the breathtaking "Africa Awaits" demonstrate the expanse of Riley's talents.

Rootz Underground, "Movement" (Riverstone/Mystic Urchin Records)
Lead singer Stephen Newland's compelling vocals offer smart, searing commentaries supported by intricately crafted, infinitely durable one-drop rhythms with subtle rock undercurrents. They could all prove invaluable in attracting a much-deserved broad-based following.

Etana, "The Strong One" (VP Records)
Etana's dynamic vocal resonance (think Miriam Makeba meets India.Arie), displayed on her hits "Wrong Address" and "Roots," present uncompromising, self-empowering messages and a welcome challenge to the perception of reggae's female vocalists who rarely get to transcend the role of background singer.

Taj Weekes & Adowa, "Diedem" (Jatta Music)

St. Lucia-born singer/songwriter/guitarist Taj Weekes' enigmatic vocals are underscored by somber reggae beats and lyrics emphasizing an array of global calamities on this poignant release.

Duane Stephenson, "From August Town" (VP Records)
Duane Stephenson's solid introductory effort offers beautifully nuanced vocals and heartfelt lyrics that convey romantic longing and the anguish of ghetto realities with equal conviction.

Morgan Heritage, "Mission in Progress" (VP Records)
Highlighting its urban edge was a wise move for this Brooklyn-born sibling aggregation's 10th album and its first to top Billboard's reggae chart. The reason? "We listened to our children and updated our sound," keyboardist Una Morgan says. -PM

JAMAICA GLEANER

Published July 7, 2008

WHOEVER thought the quality of roots-reggae died in 1981 with Bob Marley, has another guess coming. The music - which some thought was at death's door - is on the rebound, according to the June 21 issue of Billboard Magazine.

The decline, wrote Patricia Meschino in an article headlined 'Movement of the People', began with the increased dominance of computerised dancehall beats, which caused authentic reggae rhythms to be relegated to obscurity. She, however, saw saxophonist Dean Fraser as instrumental in this revival.

Fraser produced Tarrus Riley's Parables, Duane Stephenson's From August Town, and Luciano's Jah is My Navigator, three of the strongest albums recorded in Jamaica during the last two years.

Producer and songwriter Mikey Bennett also shares this optimistic view and sees the music regaining its former status.

"It is a wonderful time for roots-rock reggae music," said the man who penned Maxi Priest and Shabba's mega-hit, House Call. "Music goes through cycles and presently, roots is flourishing."

Bennett lauded female artistes for carrying the mantle as well.

"We're especially blessed with a wide selection of female singers; for the first time you see the females in the spotlight," Bennett said.

In the Billboard article, Fraser names Etana and Queen Ifrica as females rooted "in the struggle" of restoring the music to its former place in the international market.

Another hurdle roots-reggae faces, according to Meschino, is the scant commercial airplay the music receives. She, however, credits the band Rootz Underground for its creativity in creating a download link to its music. Bennett sees this as critical for the music's longevity and has seen some strides in this regard.

"Radio, producers and selectors have become more open to playing roots music and this is beneficial for the business, as it allows the audience to appreciate the music," he said.

Billboard proclaims six albums that heralded the roots-reggae resurgence. This includes Parables by Tarrus Riley, Movement by Rootz Underground, The Strong One from Etana, Diedem by Taj Weekes and Adowa, From August Town by Duane Stephenson, and Mission In Progress by Morgan Heritage.

Park City, Utah

Interview by: Greg Marshall 

TAJ WEEKES IS TRYING TO TEACH THE WORLD TO SING 

Move over, Bono.

Taj Weekes does relief work on St. Lucia, where he was born, to reduce poverty and promote awareness of children's issues. In November, he was named a United Nations Goodwill Ambassador to the Caribbean. He recently helped bring an optometrist and a general practitioner to St. Lucia to provide medical care for the poor.

And, oh yes, he sings. Weekes combines classic roots reggae and grassroots politics in his second album, DEIDEM, which was released in May to favorable reviews. He performs tonight, Wednesday, 9 p.m. at the Star Bar.

Songs on the album discuss global and humanitarian issues such as global warming, the effects of Hurricane Katrina, and the crisis in Darfur. The topics are insightful and serious, fans say, but the grooves, melodies and rhythms are familiar to reggae.

Weekes wrote DEIDEM, which Weekes says means "all of us," after the death of both of his parents in 2006. "The record didn't start off how it is now," he explained in a telephone interview. "I went through a period of mourning."

Weekes decided to scratch the songs he had written about his own grief, songs with titles such as "From Clay To Dust," and work on 12 new tracks that drew from global politics for inspiration.

"It was always about giving something back," Weekes said. "Even though two people died for me, people are dying every day." The singer said that one of the goals of his music is to help society "take a holistic approach and not an individualistic approach to the world."

Weekes is the youngest of 10 children. He remembers lining up with his brothers and sisters to sing for his parents, and his dad singing back to them as if they were the Von Trapps in "The Sound of Music." Weekes started his song-writing career at the age of 10 writing down the lyrics from songs he heard on LPs. Sometimes he would tinker with the words in a song and make them his own creation. "From the time I started writing," he said, "I did my own thing."

Before leaving the Caribbean to pursue music, Weekes started a band with a few of his brothers and toured the Caribbean islands. That's when he met some of the musical influences that compelled him to sing political reggae. "These people I consider town criers," he said. 'Reggae is what you call the poor man's cry. It's music you can sit and listen to. It's listening music."

Weekes performs with two backup singers and six other musicians. The band is on a six-week tour across the country spreading the word about their music.

"There's such a void in the market for the kind of music Taj sings," Weekes' manager, Shirley Menard, offered. "Taj sticks to what's real and what's true."

Weekes released the album on his own independent label, Jatta Records.

"You have to do it on your own terms in your own way," Menard said. "He couldn't make this kind of music any other way."

Danny Hill, the manager of Star Bar, said he has been playing Weekes' albums all week in his car. "We're kind of becoming known for bringing this kind of music to town," he said. "I'm excited."