A Waterlogged Soul Kitchen is the 3^rd album by Taj Weekes and Adowa, and it further cements their status as rising stars in the realms of international reggae and ‘world music’ more generally. A truly multinational group, each member of Adowa hails (directly or indirectly) from a different Caribbean island; Weekes himself is St. Lucian, and Jamaica, Trinidad and Tobago, Barbados, and Dominica are represented as well. In addition, Weekes’ own eclectic musical influences—everything from classic reggae and calypso to American country, jazz, and blues—ensure that the band’s offerings, while firmly rooted in Caribbean structures and aesthetics, are also thoroughly international in scope.

Musically, for example, the 11 tracks that comprise A Waterlogged Soul Kitchen cover an ambitious range of sounds and styles. Though all adhere to the skank guitar pattern and one-drop drum riddim characteristic of roots reggae—with the exception of “Drill,” the hard-hitting piano ballad that closes the album—Weekes and his band skillfully incorporate bluesy harmonica licks, orchestral violin lines, winding jazz/R&B-style horn lines, and even colonial-esque flute marches into their tunes to achieve beautiful—and highly unique—musical textures. The traditional reggae structures and conventions themselves, furthermore, are frequently subject to reinterpretation and innovation; songs range from classic roots reggae instrumentation (electric guitar, bass, keyboard, and drums) to more acoustic guitar-driven numbers (such as “B4 the War”), and “Sunny Innocents” reverses the standard skank guitar pattern by putting it on the on-beats rather than the off-beats.

A Waterlogged Soul Kitchen’s compelling synthesis of roots reggae and more international influences is also reflected in Weekes’ powerful lyrics. Like the traditional calypsonians and reggae artists—as well as American country singers—he draws inspiration from, Weekes reflects insightfully on a wide range of social and political issues over the course of the album, and he certainly knows how to tell a story with his words; his purview, however, is much more global in scope than that of many of his reggae contemporaries. Indeed, Weekes devotes several of his tracks to struggles and crises far-removed from his native St. Lucia: “Janjaweed” addresses the murderous militants of the same name in Darfur, “Drill” condemns the notorious BP oil spill that occurred as the band was finishing production on the album, and “Rain Rain” and the album title itself discuss the devastating effects of Hurricane Katrina on US cities like New Orleans. Finally, there is Weekes’ voice. The singer delivers his lyrics in a unique warble that can be as powerful and haunting as it is soothing and delicate. For an example, look at the band’s recent video for “Janjaweed,’ one of my favorite tracks on the album

Overall, A Waterlogged Soul Kitchen comes highly recommended; it is a compelling, innovative, and thought-provoking album from a gifted group of young Caribbean musicians with a great deal to say about the world. It is clear, furthermore, that they are not all talk and no action, as the inspiring activist spirit that pervades Weekes’ songs is also reflected in his diligent charity work in St. Lucia and beyond. This is a band to keep an eye on for reggae and non-reggae fans alike, as A Waterlogged Soul Kitchen is clearly the product of an eclectic lyrical and compositional talent that will only continue to mature as time goes on.