Another good pick from the Wackies collection! The Bronx label is making headlines again with this reissue of a superb album by Milton Henry made in 1985. A little-known but talented vocalist, Milton Henry served his apprenticeship in Jamaica, first under the name King Medious, notably alongside Lee Perry. Exiled to New York at the end of the 70s, he found, like many expatriate artists, a second family at the Wackies studio. He took part in the studio's daily life: "backing vocals" when needed but also administrative work. Milton Henry lived on the premises and is even said to have enjoyed the privilege of holding a spare set of the studio keys.
The genesis of the album is somewhat complex, between Channel One in Jamaica and Wackies' London studios. The group Itopia, behind which hide a few famous names (Jackie Mittoo, Neville Anderson), is said to have taken part in its making. Be that as it may, the nine tracks present, taken from the original LP, sound good and smell sweetly of pre-digital roots, like Send me that pillow, a romantic, slow and languorous rub a dub, on which Henry settles into falsetto.
Milton Henry's vocal talent is the common thread of this opus: he works wonders whether in a soul style, perfectly mastered (Sweet melody, which lives up to its name, Let the sunshine in or the duet What am I to do with Sonia of the group Love Joys) or in a more "sufferer" tone, as on the defiant Who do you think I am and Them a devil, where the singer settles a few scores. Other autobiographical winks are also tucked away in the powerful No dreams, a true story, and on the track Good old days, which reuses Dennis Brown's Revolution riddim (hence the erroneous credit to Sly & Robbie), where Milton Henry recalls his difficult beginnings, accompanied at the time by Junior Byles.
This "Who do you think I am" is well and truly a classic record, with its period artwork showing a Milton Henry with an LKJ-style look, posing under the elevated subway lines of White Plains Road. But the pleasure is short, too short. A little reading matter would have allowed purists to extend the listening time, but since Milton Henry tells us in the closing track "You don't have to know me to love my music", we are reassured. One of the finest discoveries of the start of the year.
