LOVER'S ROCK : Janet Kay - Silly Games / Dub Dem Silly

Similar to that of Soul, the Reggae reissue market seems to be somewhat geared at purists.

And talking to people who consider themselves soul aficionados I've observed that the mainstream of the soul-reissue microindustry has its market cornered. Some collectors have pretty rigid criteria for what's 'soulful' and what's not. As soon as there's the merest proto-Disco soupcon or slightest Quiet Storm sleekness to the production, said people immediately get turned off and start frothing about authenticity of emotion and over-production.

Perhaps being invested in making electroacoustic music and other genres that are all about "the magic" of the studio, I'm not under the same delusion that it's a question of over- or under- production. Recordings are inherently mediated and totally fake. I'm completely unrepentant about this. Whether it's analog or digital, or whether you've got some soulful diva doing one take with a band with a mere few mics or Charles Stepney at the controls overdubbing zillions of Minnie Ripertons doing whistletones, it's all artifice! Recordings never 'capture' a performance acurately! They are (re)creations and (re)constructions of performance as soon as you've got a recording device engaged, whatever's being transferred to that medium has already been extracted out of the realm of performance. Even without editing and overdubs you're still making artistic decisions: mic placement, equalization, the sort of room you're using, and the recording media. And there is great artistic potential within the realm of recording. For me, it's not a case of authentic recording it's a case of ultimately eliciting authentic feeling in the listener.

Perhaps my outlook is what makes me less inclined to be suspicious of mid-70's and even 80's soul, and also the subgenre of Reggae known as Lovers Rock.

Lovers Rock is a somewhat-maligned, smoother counterpart to Rocker's Reggae that emerged in Britain in the 1970's. Employing light, airy, (yet still dubwise) production values, lazy-afternoon arrangements and often sweet, girlish vocals. Its emphasis on mushy lyrics and sweet tones make much of this musician easy target for the soul police.

It's the same rubric that would frame Deniece Williams' This Is Niecy as 'unsoulful.' Not only do its nylon-over-the-camera-lens the production values immediately trigger alarm bells. Its also the glistening-diamond Rhodes pianos, silvery strings and breezy trombones, lite-funky rhythms, and vocals full of wide-eyed innocent glee. It's not macho enough to have true 'soul'. Even if all that emoting can get a little silly too. I mean really... how authentic can the endless stream of soul sides be... going on about being treated so "ba-a-a-a-d bay-beh bay-beh." Not that that music is bad or that it doesn't come from a real place. I just think that the hampered joy and love Niecy portrays on "That's What Friends Are For" (we all know she likes him MORE than a friend!) is just a tangible as anybody bemoaning the loss of a cheatin' lover, it's just a different feel (much like the accompanying music and production style)

A lot of Lovers' Rock as a genre, has pretty been swept under the rug by the reissue machine. Sure there's been some nice compilations devoted to that music, or prominently featuring the genre's golden era, but many of the best albums of the era are hardly even available.

Janet Kay's Silly Games and it's accompanying set of dubs (courtesy of the original records' producer, Dennis Bovell), Dub Dem Silly is among the best music of the genre. The title cut is of course very widely known, but the full album remains pretty much in limbo, unfortunately.

Kay possess a uniquely heady, light-toned voice that almost has a slightly otherworldly character, especially when she swoops up into her higher register. The production on Silly Games is a great complement to her voice and the songs. The rhythm section is lean and economical opting for that submerged, woody snare-and-kick drum sound, glazed with whispery tickle-your-ears hi-hats and the occasional steely interjection of taut-skinned tom-toms. The guitar tones are transparent, and bass deep but buoyant. Smooth brass and winds fill things out, as some careening dub-isms inject just the right amount of cosmic wonder.

"Rock The Rhythm" is a sensuous, humid song which opens with Kay harmonizing with herself over slinky reggae beat. The arrangement remains simple, but something about her voice envelopes the listener, giving the illusion of lushness while maintaining a dusky funkiness.


"Do You Really Love Me" (please ignore the video's visuals!) sees her giddy with excitement over new love yet is fearful because of the potential for hurt. Again the arrangement is decidedly mid-tempo and tight, yet slyly oceanic and dreamy. The smooth uniformity of overdubbed backup vocals which provide the response to the lead Kay's contribute to this feel, while there's a great level of urgency as anxious synth bleeps punctuate the beat, which is also riddled with hurried tom-tom fills. Kay's delivery is hotter, begging her lover not to "break her tender heart", but still her vocal floats with mild vibrato resembling the soft bends of a ribbon.

The slippery, detailed melody on closing cut "Capricorn Woman" is suffused with a yearning sexuality, and in the verse almost recalls vintage Bollywood songcraft. The flute counterpoint woven through bolsters this impression as it darts in and around her surprisingly ornamented singing. Her misty voice is surrounded by delicate nylon guitar and gentle splashes of percussion. Again her light, yet full singing gives the impression of saturation yet allows the song to waft along gently like the smoke of a dying fire on some imaginary beach (this is British music after all, so that imaginary tropical warmth is an important ingredient in its particular brand of smoothness!).

The versions created by Bovell further accentuate the peculiarities of this recording. One of the most important aspects to it is the interplay between slightly chilly and aloof Northern Soul Englishness and the sunny warmth and sensuality of Reggae. The plumes of echo and reverb send the remainders of her voice spiraling and curling upward as the polished surfaces of the backing music glisten beneath, cast in new dubby light. While nowhere close the sort of batshit-crazy dub antics you occasionally hear, the dubs certainly tease out hidden features. When used as echo fodder you truly get a sense of the strangely ethereal quality of her voice. It balances on a certainly breathy invitation, spectral detachment and wide-eyed girlishness which stirred into a dub provides mysterious and alluring atmospherics.

Enjoy the two albums here.