The Messenger by Jay Mitchell and Hot Ice: A Funky Time Capsule from 1981
Alright, let’s talk about The Messenger. This gem dropped in 1981 courtesy of Jay Mitchell and his crew, Hot Ice. Hailing straight outta the Bahamas (yes, those tropical vibes are legit), it’s a funk/soul masterpiece that feels like sipping coconut water under the sun—refreshing but with enough grit to keep you hooked. Released on Bush Fire Records, this album is kinda like finding an old vinyl at a flea market—you don’t expect much, but once you hear it, boom! It sticks.
Now, let’s dive into some tracks because not every song here is gonna knock your socks off, but a couple? Oh yeah, they’ll stay stuck in your head for days.
First up: “Gatta Get To The Top.” Man, this one hits different. From the opening drumbeat, it’s clear these guys mean business. There’s something raw about how the horns punch through while Jay’s vocals glide over the groove. You can almost picture him sweating it out in the studio, pouring his soul into the mic. The lyrics? Motivational as heck—like someone whispering in your ear, “C’mon, you got this!” If you’re having a blah kinda day, crank this track. Trust me, it works better than coffee.
Then there’s “Boy Go Home To Your Wife.” Whew, chile. This tune has sass written all over it. It’s funky, playful, even a little cheeky. The bassline slaps so hard you might find yourself dancing around your living room like no one’s watching. And honestly, who hasn’t been tempted to tell someone to go home to their spouse? It’s relatable yet smooth, like calling someone out without being rude. Props to Jay and the gang for pulling that off.
Other tracks like “Shaky” and “Honey Bee” bring their own flavor too—kinda like side dishes at a BBQ. They’re solid, though maybe not as unforgettable as the two I mentioned. But hey, variety keeps things interesting, right?
What makes The Messenger stand out isn’t just its sound—it’s the vibe. Listening to it feels like stepping back in time to when music wasn’t overly polished or auto-tuned. These cats were playing live instruments, feeling the rhythm, letting loose. It’s messy in the best way possible.
Here’s the kicker, though: why’d it take me till now to discover this album? Like, where was I in 1981? Probably eating Pop Rocks and thinking E.T. was real. But hey, late finds are still wins, right? So if you’re hunting for something fresh yet retro, give The Messenger a spin. Just don’t blame me if you start craving conch fritters afterward.
