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Rebelution (VP, 2006)
Tanya Stephens burst onto the dancehall scene as a
brash, boisterous gal who could hang with the lewdness purveyed by the
dominant male DJs, but over time she's matured, tempering the slackness
with some of the most topical, insightful lyrics in reggae.
Rebelution is a logical extension of her previous album, Gangsta
Blues, continuing the melancholy vibe and introspective messages that
buoyed hits like "It's a Pity" and "Can't Breathe"
(see Reggae Gold 2003 and 2004,
respectively). Just because
this album is largely down-tempo, though (featuring only three or so
dancehall riddims), doesn't mean it's any less "rebelutionary."
It's hard to think of any male artist who tops the lyrical content
that Stephens flexes on Rebelution.
She's at once bold and vulnerable, accusatory and flawed -- a
complex character study not often found in reggae.
She pushes the boundaries of the "reggae norm," going far
beyond the baseness of the dancehall and even challenging accepted
spiritual and social mores on tracks like "You Keep Looking Up,"
which questions "pie-in-the-sky" heaven seekers, and "Do
You Still Care," a refreshing rebuke of the homophobia rampant in
dancehall today. Rather than
dwelling on conventional black pride, she evokes icons like Malcolm X and
Marcus Garvey as an admonishment of those black folk who aren't pulling
their weight in the struggle. Stephens
paints lurid visual scenarios that resonate through repeated listens.
"Damn You" portrays her as a jilted lover watching her ex
getting married (The Graduate perhaps?).
In "Cherry Brandy," she's an alcoholic who finds more
solace in the bottle than in the people around her.
In "Do You Still Care," we see what happens when
prejudiced people face death and must rely on the people they'd spent a
lifetime hating. The music is
understated (nothing as immediately classic as the Doctor's Darling riddim
from "It's a Pity"), perhaps intentionally so, in order to allow
for the full impact of the messages, which Stephens delivers with a
throaty, almost Tracy Chapman-like flow. It's easy to overlook how rote and expected lyrics in any
genre can become, but Stephens is here to remind us how powerful the
spoken word can be. |
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