If I ever had a new aria to learn I would listen to Gedda first in order to make sure I was “doing it right.”
Garrett Harris 4 p.m., Feb. 27
"Hometown CD," review 8-31-06
Album Title: Slightly Stoopid (2006)
For the niche they fill, there's no doubt as to why Slightly Stoopid is so successful. In spite of myself, I find that by the third song I'm tapping my feet. Why would I try to resist? It's not my favorite type of music. With most white-boy reggae bands I want to yank up their ears and shout, "YOU'RE NOT FREAKING JAMAICAN!" I still halfway want to do it to the Stoopid crew, but I also want to hear the next song.
On initial inspection, I thought that a double-disc album of cracker Rastafarians would be a "fans-only" project and that the giant 24-track undertaking would be too bloated to convert someone who was picking it up for a casual browse. But the poppy mellow guitar hooked to fader effects, the island horns, and bonking conga drums won me over.
The longest song -- at 6:18 -- on disc one, "Dancing Mood," is my favorite. The deft and soaring trumpet, harmonic vocals with quadraphonic echo, and cheers from the crowd are more my speed than the quick rapping and punky Sublime-type beach rock of other tracks.