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Paul St. Hilaire, "Adsom - A Divine State of Mind"
One of the most underexposed and exciting reggae vocalists today, Paul St. Hilaire delivers the kind of album his associates Rhythm & Sound should have produced this year.
Although fairly well known in certain circles, the artist formerly known as Tikiman operates largely out on the fringes of the reggae music community, an Achilles' heel that offers both challenges and opportunities. Having worked with a number of noteworthy producers from well beyond the Carribbean, such as The Bug, Modeselektor, and Scion's René Löwe, Hilaire's work for his Germany-based False Tuned vanity label attempts on some level to return to his island roots. While his sophomore self-produced album adheres to a rootsy reggae standard at least lyrically, years of genre-crossing collaboration has informed Hilaire's sense of music composition. Accordingly, Adsom - A Divine State of Mind shows an artist truly coming in to his own.
A much more consistent extension of 2003's Unspecified, the album kicks off with the subdued "Little Song," arguably the track that listeners familiar with the aforementioned partnerships will most likely connect best with. Here, Hilaire's somewhat aged voice soars over a burbly dub soundtrack, familiar territory to be sure though certainly well executed. Also in that vein, the deep watery textures of "Humble" could have come right from the mixing desk of Mark Ernestus and Moritz Von Oswald. Beyond that, however, Hilaire largely rejects uniformity and demonstrably embraces the diversity of his career. "Peculiar," for one, is carried by an unmistakably bluesy flair found almost exclusively on albums from Skip McDonald's unmatched Little Axe project. Such shrewd deviation from the Showcase model proves that he is not content to pantomime past successes. Hilaire is comfortable playing the purist on something like "Jah Live Over The Hills", previously released as a Tikiman CD single in Europe back in 2002, as well as playing to a contemporary R&B vibe akin to Beres Hammond on the closer "Roosty".
However, "Fortunate" is the true standout of the album, a groover delivered from atop the soapbox whose infectious hook is sung in chorus with what I assume from the credits are his own children. If commercial radio still had a taste for reggae music beyond dancehall, this would be playing all over town like a slightly softer "Welcome To Jamrock", and if there isn't at least one station in Jamaica rocking this one then that entire nation is missing out. As it stands, enough insulation exists to unfairly keep an outstanding artist like Hilaire from thriving to the extent Adsom so clearly proves him worthy of achieving. I can only hope that this boundary emboldens rather than weakens him, bringing the promise of even stronger, more engaging releases for years to come.
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