WordSound&Power (Lion of Zion, 1999)

You may have heard of Christafari, and you may have seen their CDs in the store, but if you're like me, you've never actually listened to them -- whether it's because you were hesitant or because they just don't get enough exposure to pique your interest.  Although I'm sure there are plenty of Christian reggae artists, I'd imagine that there are some fans who'd be put off by in-your-face Christian-themed reggae (although so-called reggae gospel has erupted in popularity of late).  A good deal of it probably has to do with the exotic appeal of Rastafarianism over Christianity, but in the end, what really matters to me is the music.  After all, you could replace references to "Jah" with "God," "Yahweh," "Jehovah," "Buddah," "Allah," "Zeus," or whatever, but if the music and melody, the instrumentation and singing don't move me, I ain't listening.  Luckily, Christafari is adept in their performances, making WordSound&Power an enjoyable treat for the most part.  Their likable pop-tinged live-instrument roots sound is reminiscent of The Mystic Revealers, although they periodically throw in a bit of a dancehall edge (The probably shouldn't, though; it's not as effective.).  Like The Mystic Revealers' Billy Mystic, Christafari front man Mark Mohr has a talent for crafting catchy melodies, and although he culls most of his lyrics from Biblical passages, I suppose it takes some kind of talent to make them rhyme.  Particularly impressive are the heartfelt love song "Love of My Life" and the rejoicing classic roots sound of "Emancipation Proclamation," along with "Render Your Heart" and the fiery "Thief of the Night."  Christafari is about as righteous as you can get; every song, practically every line is related to God or Jesus, and when the message remains positive, it doesn't bother me.  However, the lyrics at times tread close to intolerance.  The tune "Why You Ago Look?" in particular targets those who worship as immortal anyone who Christianity deems to be a mere mortal.  The intro to this track (one of 10 intro/outros/interludes, a somewhat pompous overkill) is specifically aimed at Rastafarians, as it is a recording of Haile Selassie proclaiming himself to be a mortal man and nothing more.  While I respect Christafari's right to express their religious beliefs, they have to expect some backlash when recording such messages in an art form that has a large Rastafarian following and that owes so much of its formation to Rastas.  I have no problem when they extol the virtues of Christianity (which they do for much of the album), but I feel a bit put off when it seems they are putting down other religions.  Still, I enjoyed most of WordSound&Power, my greatest pleasure coming when I viewed Christafari as a reggae band first and foremost, and as Christians second.

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To the Foundation (Lion of Zion, 2007)

*GUEST REVIEW*
Trailblazers in the ever-expanding field of Christian reggae, Christafari have come up with their best album to date. Why so? Well, as the back cover of To The Foundation states, it's "their rootsiest effort to date." The music confirms such: there's a lot less dancehalland fusion-type reggae than on previous Christafari discs, and the primarily roots focus serves the band well. Plus, they've done away with those sound bite-laden segues that they used to insert among many of their album tracks (which were clever up to a point but had become overdone). Now that there's a bit of silence between songs, they're allowed the breathing room to speak for themselves and they're stronger for it. Biblically-based lyrics and Jesus are the focus, and classic-sounding riffs and riddims provide strength while numerous guest vocalists add support that's laid-back or charismatic as needed. Frontman Mark Mohr gets better with each release, ever more nimbly switching between singing and deejaying, seamlessly slipping in and out of Jamaican patois mode. As a songwriter, he's gotten increasingly adept at working the message into the music, reasoning where he could be merely pulpit-pounding. The disc starts strongly with "Freedom Step" and then just keeps praising the Lord and passing the roots. Nimble, layered arrangements rich with horns and dubby effects are the norm (let's hopefor a full-on dub version of this album), giving songs like "Fear Not," "The Prodigal" (which features a nice ska injection on its choruses) and "Too Many Cannibals" both conviction and bounce. Then there's the two purely dancehall shots: "Rooftop" is fairly generic, while "Triumphal Entry" adds some Andalusian-like textures to close the disc on a creative note. Perhaps best of all is "Nairobi," a deeply conscious lament on the level of poverty in Kenya's capital city.

- Tom Orr