Junior Kelly – Smile
VP Records ( VP1670)

Junior Kelly exploded onto the dancehall scene with the Y2K boomshell “Love So Nice” and it’s melancholy follow-up, “Sunshine.” The twin tales of heartache were powerful enough to overshadow his excellent debut album Love So Nice. Lost in the acclaim for the lovelorn dread was recognition for his weed anthems, sufferah’s chants, and political commentary. Kelly also proved to be an atypical Dancehall artist: on the heels of his success, he avoided voicing a tune on every flavour-of-the month rhythm and focused instead on crafting quality albums. As a result, Kelly’s momentum slowly ebbed, and his two big hits migrated to selectors’ “early warm” segments.

Smile, Kelly’s second VP album (he voiced the mediocre Rise on Jet Star records), is the emphatic rebuke to those who though that he was a two-hit flash in the Roots pan, like VC or Warrior King. If conscious Dancehall is your dish, you won’t find a better album released this year.

Lyrically, Smile solidifies Junior Kelly’s niche as the most mature and emotionally honest of the young lions currently stalking Dancehall’s Roots & Culture wilderness. Kelly lacks the air of braggadocios invincibility that sometimes mars the work of other Gen-X Rastas. Instead of painting himself as judge, jury and righteous executioner and blazing an indiscriminate bonfire of moral indignation, Kelly’s approach is refreshingly humble. On “Can’t Meditate,” Kelly notes simply that he “can’t stay/ where the evil man dey.” It’s a theme that he explores further on “Trod,” where he takes a trip to the mountains “to seek tranquility,” because he “can’t jam side’a no gunman” in the polluted cities.

Kelly’s humbleness, honesty and vulnerability is front-and-center on Smile’s quartet of love songs, some of which revisit the “Love So Nice” themes of break-up and betrayal. “Sinking Feeling” is woeful reflection on the impending death of a long-term relationship. The superlative “Baby Can We Meet,” on the other hand, captures the breathlessly expectant early days of a budding romance, where the lyrics have been flowing, but the paramours-to-be have yet to link up. When Kelly excitedly tells his girl that one day he hopes to “know her by her walk,” the melancholy “Sinking Feeling” is years away.

Smile mines the same fertile ground explored by Love So Nice, with ever better results. “Just Another Blend” is a mellow ganja-lover’s ditty that picks up where “Boom Draw” left off. “Truthful,” which improves upon “Jewel of the Nile,” is a self-produced uptempo jaunt that confesses Kelly’s affection for women who “look after mi Ital stew.” The title track, with its upful keyboard flourishes and carefree lyrics, is equal parts Bobby McFerrin’s “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” and the archetypal sufferah’s anthem Kelly voiced on “Hungry Days.”

Musically, Smile is amazing. Kelly has lined up an all-star cast of old-school musicians and producers, including Sly & Robbie, Dean Fraser, Lenky Marsden and movie star Horsemouth Wallace (if you’ve never seen the 1977 flick Rockers, go buy it now). The result is a rhythmically fulfilling Dancehall, with the sort of organic Reggae sound that always sounds truer than the electronic gimmickry that dominates the genre. By and large, Smile sounds well-crafted and well-conceived, high praise in this era of slap-dash singles compilations. Even the backup singers – The Daffodils – approach I-Threes quality.

When Kelly finally abandons his mid-tempo bubbling and tackles a straight-up Dancehall scorcher, the results are exceptional. “Take Me There” combines the superproducing talents of Sly & Robbie and Lenky Marsden to tremendous effect, and up-an-comer Calibe adds the right sultry ingredients to Kelly’s rudebwoy seduction: Fully charged on roots and ganja, Kelly pledges to light the candle, lock the door and “pour honey pon yuh nipple.”

Smile’s few missteps are errors of ambition. Kelly’s attempt to provide a thesis on Black self-hate crumbles under the weight of clichés and an ordinary chorus. “Running From The Law” aspires to be a modern-day “I Shot The Sheriff,” but fails completely.

THE VERDICT: VP Records is chasing the bling-bling promised by the crossover success of Sean Paul and Elephant Man, so even if they recognized the gem they had in Smile, our favorite record company doesn’t have the wherewithal to give Kelly anything but lackluster promotion. But just because VP can’t walk the crossover walk and chew its cultural gum at the same time doesn’t mean that Smile should be ignored by Dancehall fans. This album belongs in the collection of every conscious Dancehall afficionado.