Album Review: My O Me by Daddy Rupie
Alright, let’s talk about My O Me by Daddy Rupie. If you’re into reggae with a heavy dose of dancehall vibes, this 1990 gem from the US on Shelly's Records might just hit the spot. It’s not perfect, but it’s got that raw charm that makes you wanna rewind and hear it again.
First up, the title track “My-O-Me.” Man, this one sticks with you. It’s got that classic dancehall bounce—simple but effective beats that make your shoulders move even if you’re just sitting there. The lyrics? Straightforward, a bit cheeky, and kinda fun. It’s the kind of tune that feels like it was made for sound systems back in the day. You can almost picture people skanking to it at some backyard party or on a beach somewhere.
Then there’s “My-O-Me (Version).” Now, this one flips the original into something deeper. The stripped-down instrumental lets the rhythm take center stage, and honestly, it’s hypnotic. It’s like when you’re zoning out to a beat on repeat, but instead of getting boring, it just pulls you in more. I dunno, maybe it’s the echoey effects or the way the bassline just sits right in your chest, but this track feels like a vibe you don’t wanna leave.
The rest of the album keeps the energy alive, though nothing else quite hits the same way as these two tracks. It’s clear Daddy Rupie wasn’t trying to reinvent the wheel here—he was just making music that felt good. And honestly? That’s enough.
Reflecting on My O Me, it’s kinda wild how albums like this still hold up. Sure, production’s a bit lo-fi compared to today’s standards, but that’s part of its charm. It reminds me of those old-school moments when music felt less about being polished and more about connecting. Or maybe I’m just romanticizing it while my Spotify algorithm tries to shove another playlist down my throat. Either way, give this one a spin if you’re craving something real.
Oh, and random thought—what’s with album covers from the ‘90s always looking like they were designed in ten minutes? This one included. Love it though.
