'VOICE THE Spoken Word' has found a new home, although essentially they have simply come full circle. The event, which featured a night of poetry, music and sometimes fashion, started almost a year ago at Harry's Bar on Constant Spring Road. Organised by poet Connie Bell, the event then moved to The Village Café in The Orchid Village, Barbican, St Andrew, upon the closure of Harry's Bar. That site did not prove suitable, however, and the voices once again moved, this time to the Bob Marley Museum, Hope Road, St Andrew.
That arrangement also proved to be short term, as 'Voice the Spoken Word' has returned to 80 Constant Spring Road, the site that was once Harry's Bar. Now, however, it is the Weekenz Bar and Bistro.
Those who used to frequent the bar will hardly recognise the property, as it is quite changed. The only things which seem to have not undergone any changes are the ackee tree going through the main bar and the huge mango tree at the opposite end.
There is now a better stage area and the lawn features wrought iron furniture (and one sinfully comfortable sofa), sprinkled before the stage. Bathed in light from the half-moon, all it needs to be the perfect artsy joint are broke and frustrated artistes drinking far too much coffee and moaning about the horrors of life without sugarfree gum.
Although the setting was perfect on Tuesday, this was not quite the crowd which the night drew. The audience seemed to be of two sorts those who came to be entertained and those who were simply engaged in another round of the eternal pursuit for alcohol and company.
The night featured music, poetry and a bit of fashion. Connie Bell noted that 'Voice' had changed from pure poetry to a mix suited to the audience's tastes. She noted that as such, the new setting is perfect. Those who simply want to 'lime' can stay by the bar, where the stage noise is subdued, and those who really want to hear the performances can go in front of the stage.
In large part the performances on Tuesday night were actually worth hearing. This was particularly true of Alpha Sonics. The band will provide weekly entertainment and enlivened the evening with a good mix of jazz. The band seems more than capable of playing music interesting enough to chase away the weekday blues.
Anther impressive musician to take to the stage was Bjorn. The singer and guitarist performed three of his original works. The most impressive of these was his second piece, Struggling. Bjorn's voice, which has the same earthy soul quality as Terrence Trent D'Arby and Tracy Chapman, gave a smooth delivery to a song that had a good melody and rhythm. Additionally, though it deals with the eternal topic of heartbreak, the lyrics of Struggling are not particularly clichéd.
His other two songs, though neither were bad, were simply not as good. He performed first My Pride and ended with Ecstasy. Ecstacy was the worst of the lot, especially because the lyrics were so trite. (It really is time humanity evolved beyond likening lips to cherries). Even so, Bjorn seems to have quite a bit of talent at his disposal.
Another singer/guitarist, Bobby Barnes, took to the stage upon Bjorn's retirement. He too proved to be quite interesting, exhibiting a Bob Dylanesqué style. Barnes' music is the kind that at first baffles you with its nursery rhyme simplicity. However, once you get past that, it comes across that what he is saying is really quite interesting, as is how he chooses to say it.
It proved to be the night for singer/guitarists, because Steven Newland also made his way to the stage. He first performed his miniature cult favourite Herb Fields. Newland has two features which serve to put him at the head of the pack. First, his guitar skills are rather prolific and, outside of the band's earlier performance, he was the only one to play complicated sequences on the instrument. Additionally, he is the owner of a raspy voice that would be treasured by any Wailer. This voice, whether you like it or not, will simply not be ignored. Newland also performed Soul To Soul, which was specifically requested by a member of the audience. The song pointed out that a love song needs not be a cliché.
The night ended with Jack Moses, a disc jockey from New York, on the turntables. His job was to play poetry put to music. Moses, who spun tunes including Mutabaruka's Dis Poem put to a dance beat, was not the only deejay for the evening, as earlier Ras Rod had taken a turn at the wheels of steel.
Ras Rod brought an interesting mix to the night's music, including mento and kumina in the pieces he selected. Earlier, recorded works from Maya Angelou had been played. What topped Ras Rod's selection skills, however, was when he demonstrated his poetic dexterity by performing his own work.
