Turn My Head by Mundell: A Reggae Gem That Still Hits Different
Alright, let’s talk about Turn My Head, the 1997 reggae album from Mundell, straight outta Jamaica and released under Big Ship. If you’re into music that feels like sunshine on your skin but also kinda makes you think, this one’s for you.
First off, yeah, the title track “Turn My Head” is a vibe. It’s got that classic reggae groove—steady drums, basslines so thick they could hold up a building, and Mundell’s voice sliding in smooth like honey over toast. But what stays with me isn’t just how catchy it is; it’s the lyrics. They hit different, man. It’s about being caught between worlds, torn by choices, and trying to find clarity when life feels all tangled up. I remember blasting this tune during a road trip once, windows down, wind messing up my hair, and thinking, "Yo, this song gets me." Like, who hasn’t felt stuck in their own head at some point? Mundell doesn’t just sing—he talks to you.
Then there’s another standout, though I won’t lie, its name escapes me right now (maybe because I’ve listened to it too many times?). Anyway, it’s got these haunting keyboard chords layered under Mundell’s raspy delivery, and honestly, it feels like he’s spilling secrets only you’re supposed to hear. The rhythm builds slow, almost hypnotic, until BAM—you’re hooked. You can’t help but nod along even if you’re sitting still. It’s moody, raw, and real. Feels like late-night conversations where no one’s really saying much, but everything matters.
What’s wild is how Mundell manages to make an album from ‘97 feel timeless. Maybe it’s the simplicity of the production or the fact that reggae has this way of speaking truths without shouting them. Either way, listening to Turn My Head feels like finding an old photograph—you recognize pieces of yourself in it, even if it’s faded around the edges.
So here’s the thing: while most albums try too hard to be memorable, Turn My Head sneaks up on you. One day you’re casually playing it, and the next, you realize it’s been looping in your brain for weeks. Not bad for something made over two decades ago, huh?
Oh, and random thought—I wonder if Mundell ever imagined his music would end up being reviewed by someone typing away in sweatpants years later. Probably not. But hey, art does its own thing, doesn’t it?
