Amp Fiddler, Sly & Robbie Give Inspirator Information

It's a meet-up that, admittedly, came as a bit of a surprise, but ultimately makes a world of sense: Detroit retro-futurist funkmeister Joseph "Amp" Fiddler has joined forces with collaboration-loving riddim-machine Sly Dunbar and Robbie Shakespeare (better known as Sly and Robbie) for an album's worth of smooth, spaced-out soul and gravy-thick reggae rhythms.

The idea?

Take a few musicians who have never worked together before, stick them in the studio on a tight schedule, and see what happens - it's a strategy that yielded fascinating results for the Dutch label Konkurrent, whose "In The Fishtank" series drummed up tasty pairings from Tortoise/the Ex and Low/Dirty Three, for example.

Prior to becoming known for his own solo recordings, Fiddler had a double-decades-deep resume as a keyboardist-pianist-backing vocalist for a mighty list of big names, on tour and in the studio: George Clinton and the P-Funk All Stars, Prince, Primal Scream, and the Brand New Heavies. In time, he had set up his own studio in Detroit - Camp Amp - and became a key player in getting other area artists started on their own careers. (Specifically the late J Dilla, whom he somewhat famously schooled on the ins and outs of the MPC, and underground hip-hop legends Slum Village).

Blessed with a smooth, laid-back tenor recalling elements of Marvin Gaye, much of his work appears to breathe the same air as Gaye's "A Funky Space Reincarnation" and "Time To Get it Together," both mellow groovers from his otherwise-bitter 1978 divorce record Here, My Dear (Motown). Fiddler displays little of the biting anger of his touchstone's break-up masterpiece, but he frequently works with similar loose, easygoing-funk rhythms - check 2004's Waltz of a Ghetto Fly and 2007's Afro Strut (both Genuine/Play It Again Sam) for proof.

And as for Sly and Robbie - do they need any introduction at this point? Drummer Lowell Dunbar - re-named Sly to show his love for Sly Stone - and bassist Robbie Shakespeare have been working together since the 1970s, and could very well be the most prolific recording artists of all time. (It has been estimated that they've played on 200,000 songs at this point, and they show little sign of slowing down; in addition to Inspiration Information, they've recently brought considerable roll and rumble to Grace Jones' brilliant comeback Hurricane (Wall of Sound), for example.

In addition to re-shaping Jamaican music several times over - including the introduction of harder riddims into reggae to create the style known as "Rockers" - Sly and Robbie have worked quite extensively with rock musicians, disco, and ambient electronics. They have released countless albums under their own name; collaborated on crucial reggae recordings by Culture, Black Uhuru, and Peter Tosh; orchestrated Grace Jones' makeover from disco diva to devastating dub warrior; largely delivered daunting measures of ambient dread on some of Bill Laswell's Material output; and served up some seriously heavy bottom end to everyone from Serge Gainsbourg to the Rolling Stones to Tricky.

Despite the fact that Fiddler had only met Sly and Robbie very briefly prior to going into the studio, all three must have gelled almost immediately, given the short duration of the recording process and the quality of their output. Fiddler sounds stronger than ever, weaving effortlessly between soft purrs, head-wobbled rambles, and soulful croons and yowls. Sly and Robbie - well, their stamp on the disc is a generous one, as you'd expect from a pair so influential that their sound can be identified within a few notes.

Amp dresses up his tale of redemption with Stevie Wonder-esque clavinet funk and a bluesy delivery. Meanwhile, Sly and Robbie sound huger than huge, heaping a colossal rumble underneath it all. Sonically speaking, "Blackhouse (Paint the White House Black)" is cut from a similar cloth. Here, however, Fiddler offers perhaps his most impassioned performance, yearning for a unified America where racial discord no longer exists. It's the kind of song I could imagine Michael Franti writing for Spearhead, and Fiddler truly shines on some of the lyrics, blending the personal with the political to impressive effect.

The clacking, echo-heavy dub of "Lonely" is a fine reminder of the authoritative rhythms rolled out by Sly and Robbie on Jones' formative Compass Point sessions, while the herd-of-elephant thump they give to "Serious" - combined with the song's nervy synths and vaguely menacing electric guitar passages - pushes along with the same force they've given to some of the darker moments on Hurricane.

The most compelling track, though, is "Vibrationship," a thickly spacey entreaty to "take a trip on our mothership" called out against a web of synth squelches and sighs, a midair-hovering groove, and, strangely enough…a squeak toy. Alluringly spiritual but still willfully odd, it's a sure highlight of the disc, and hopefully a place to which they might return if the three ever end up in the same place at the same time again. Fingers crossed.

These tracks were laid down in Kingston, Jamaica's Anchor Studios, over the course of three days.

The Reggae News Agency

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