the soul assembly lines of California and New York. "When you hear that spirit moving in your soul," he sings, "it's a message from an ancestor who lived a long time ago."

A more immediate ancestor is Otis Redding, invoked as a muse in "Big Mama," which is a mixture of Otis-isms, street rap, sexual come-on and social commentary. The Wailers' Bob Marley and Aston Barrett helped mix several cuts and Marley's "Slave Driver" is powerfully rendered. The Slickers' "Johnny Too Bad" gets a cluttered, rhythmically unstable treatment which fans of The Harder They Come will loathe, and "Desperate Lover," a more successful reggae outing, nonetheless fails to capture the tight, polyrhythmic lilt that is the core of Jamaica's hybridized pop music.

"Cajun Waltz" dwarfs the rest of the album. Taj's breathy, intimate vocal is surely the best he has recorded and the melancholy band track underlines the song's ambiguous but ultimately unsettling lyrics. Here and on the less striking "Blackjack Davey" Taj sounds like Taj, but his decision to include the Jamaican numbers — in which his attempt to duplicate island diction is at times embarrassing—has only weakened what could have been an engrossing and believable album. The country blues material on previous albums posed similar credibility problems, since the original artists were singing directly from a rural experience which has all but vanished, and Taj incurs difficulties by approaching Jamaican originals with the same attitude. But his abilities as a communicator have increased markedly and "Waltz" at least is a moving and promising indication that his faith in the strength of Afro-American traditions is not misplaced. (RS 173)

BOB PALMER