Dees riddims be islands

•Island Riddims
•Various Artists
•Produced by Dominic Gamboa with Jr. Kilat Galaxy Records

Leave it to post-punk and current local reggae godfather Dominic "Papadom" Gamboa to reinvent the wheel, in this case the wheel called reggae music into something distinctly OPM, rope-a-dope style. In the compilation album Island Riddims (Galaxy Records 2004), Papadom and the Cebuano gid Junior Kilat gather the works of and perform with the current crop of reggae bands post-Coco Jam, post-Spy, as well ska bands post-Skalawags, post-Skavengers.

First impressions first: the Visayan influence has taken over, after all its queen city of Cebu raked it in for the incumbent Kumander in the last election.

Because apart from Junior, there are a clutch of other bands here from the heartland South, from Dumaguete to Davao and points between and not so far from home.

Pepe Smith, remember him, resurfaces in the opening cut Ang Himig Natin for a duet with Papadom in a reggaefied setting. Is that Pepe or Keith Richards, soul voice of the almost but not quite living dead?

It’s been eons since the song was first played at the Luneta one Christmas, not unlikely at 3 in the morning, when the remaining audience were about to disperse or knock off in the nearby bushes, whichever came first.

Cut two is a familiar one we’ve heard over the radio, familiar too because it is a version of a fabled Yano song from the renegade debut album, full of anger and loathing. But Tsinelas comes on transmogrified into reggae with horns section. Dumaguete’s Enchi makes the song a new pair of slippers, a band who might have cut their collective teeth in the obscure wooden dives in the city of gentle peepholes. Another Dumaguete artist represented in this kumpendium is the possible diva Kakay, any relation to Regine, but this one veers towards the acid jazz mode through Dreadlocks On My Mind and the kitschy hit Feel Like Makin’ Love, indeed no longer kitschy in her hands.

From Cebu come three bands of diverse persuasions, making the island the most well represented here: Island Joe, and Bamboo Spliff and Jr. Kilat, both of which played in the album launch in September at Grilla on Kalayaan Avenue Makati. Bamboo Spliff at the launch infected the crowd with unbridled optimism, as they do too in this CD, in the songs Morning Glory and Beautiful Day. They got down their reggae chops well, with snaking lad guitar lines a la Spider Marvin. The voice gruff and rough enough. Jr. Kilat’s Budoy is the worthy lieutenant of Papadom, and the band has among the most memorable and easily identifiable songs in Island Riddims: the first single culled off it, K-Fyne with its catchy Scooby-doobie-do and other playful Bisaya ramblings, and the humorous though somewhat homophobic Original Sigbin, a Multong Bakla transposed into 21st century rastaman milieu. At Grilla, Jr. Kilat brought down the house especially when they jammed with Papadom’s Tropical Depression, Papadom only too glad to yield the spotlight to the natural Bisaya, which melds so well with the reggae medium.

Of the Cebuano bands Island Joe is light and breezy, perhaps even deceptively so. On the ska side, there’s Skabeche, also present at Grilla with their horns and shades and duotone outfits, this time coming from Bulacan. Skabeche’s Part of Me also has the makings of a potential single, which could sound best on the sundeck of a SuperFerry while cruising off the islands of Panay, cold beer in hand and terrorists of all shapes out of sight.

The Davaoeños bay are the band Gaucho, with its Sly & Robbie-like, spy vs. spy thriller of a cut Southpaw vs. Gaucho. Put away those rose colored glasses when listening to the band’s Beautiful Eyesore, where optimism all but takes a backseat to acoustic humor in real time.

In such batting order, Manila can’t be far behind, because Tropical Dep aside from opening proceedings also reworks Mahal Kita, showing Papadom mellowing in a grand ganja way. Also from the loyal and ever noble city is the group Peace Pipe, who true to their name push the peacenik envelope in Drop Your Gun. At Grilla, Peace Pipe were loud but melodic, d riddims almost overtaken by sheer volume.

The island riddims are an ongoing tour of the south this October, the better to rock the island kids during semestral break and circa all-Saints Day holiday. (But this is as much about coconuts as urban ghetto dub). Their brand of OPM reggae keeps on rolling, reinventing the wheel along the way. What else can artists do in times of crisis but inspire people to keep on keeping on?