Hold The Line
Dancehall riddims serve as the album's backbone, but this is really pastiche, and there are frequent excursions into surf rock, one-drop reggae, 8-bit electro, and more. All of which is to say that this is a pop album. It's teasing and campy -- the sonic equivalent of a Quentin Tarantino film in that it's affectionate of its source material while managing to be completely irreverent as well. It's light, quirky and fun: at one point, a baby's cry lapses into auto-tune, and Prince Zimboo exclaims in deep patois, "Oh my goodness, you have built in auto-tune." That silliness serves it well.