“i know some so poor when it rains that’s when they shower, screaming ‘fight the power’...” 

i don’t write album or show reviews anymore because i can no longer commit. unlike the folks that write for The Globe or The Gazette that i used to share a section with at the Bell Centre, i would come for all the opening acts and stay for the whole show. i remember cursing this policy (and rejoicing when i read that Roger Ebert also practices it) when Wyclef came to town a few years back. despite the usual opening band sound-shaft, Nomadic Massive killed it, and dood went for almost four hours. some people perceived this as “value”, i saw it as pandering, especially when he went into his sob story about how he missed Lauryn, all the while profiting from singing her songs. oh, and i guess he didn’t think that anyone would notice that his drummer wasn’t really drumming-hmph. the best thing about revisiting books, and especially books about cultural movements, is seeing whether or not they stand the test of time. once again, i’m loving And It Don’t Stop (ed. Racquel Cepeda) and appreciate this historical phantasy turned reality from Selwyn Seyfu Hinds and Bakari Kitwana’s Haitian Homecoming for The Source (1997):

“In fact, if you didn’t know better you’d swear he was a candidate for office. But don’t tell Clef that. ‘I’m not into politics,’ he’ll insist if pressed, lips curling in disdain. Yet nearly every move he’ll make here will be political. Like Haiti, Wyclef reeks of his politics, despite himself. Indeed, the real art of the Fugees may lie in their ability to take their message beyond their music, to show the world that there is still power in Blackness.” (178)