Alright, buckle up—this one’s gonna hit hard. Laurel Aitken’s Rock Steady Blowing In The Wind isn’t just another relic from 1967; it's a raw punch of reggae grit and rocksteady soul that still slaps today. Released in the UK under Columbia, this album ain’t no polished pop gem—it’s rough around the edges, but damn if those edges don’t cut deep.
Let’s get into it: “Blowing In The Wind.” Yeah, you’ve heard Dylan’s version, but Aitken flips it on its head like he’s daring you to keep up. His voice? Raspy as hell, dripping with attitude, like he smoked too many cigarettes while laughing at the world. It’s not about peace signs or flower power here—it’s real talk wrapped in a groove so thick you can feel it in your chest. Every time I hear it, I’m reminded why covers shouldn’t just copy—they gotta own it. And man, does Aitken own it.
Then there’s “Rock Steady,” which feels like the heartbeat of the whole record. This track is pure swagger, a slow-burning groove that makes you wanna move even if you’re sitting down. The bassline hits like a sledgehammer, steady as fuck, and Aitken rides it like he was born for it. You can practically smell the smoky clubs where this jam would’ve blown minds back in the day. When the horns kick in halfway through? Jesus Christ, it’s like they're shouting, "This is OUR sound!"
Now, some might say this album is dated, but screw that noise. If anything, it proves how timeless good music really is. No autotune, no overproduction—just raw talent laid bare. It’s messy, imperfect, and kinda beautiful because of it.
Here’s the kicker though—listening to this now, I can’t help thinking how much modern music misses this kind of fire. Like yeah, we’ve got all these fancy tools and tech, but do we have the guts anymore? Laurel didn’t need any gimmicks—he let the music speak for itself. So next time someone says old-school stuff doesn’t slap, throw this album on and watch their faces melt. Trust me, it’ll shut ‘em right up.
