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Last year, I caught
the debut gig of a decidedly non-poseur roots-reggae band
called BLACK & WHITE, which is led by a charismatic singer/songwriter/guitarist
named Calin "Carlos" Chin. Duly enthused at this
skanking, authentic, 12-piece pleasure machine, I followed
Black & White around a bit, caught more gigs, and now
must admit I root for the group on a level that ain’t
exactly impartial. I love this band’s sound, and I’m
personally fond of Chin, so before you read on, I must ’fess
up to being an advocate rather than a sneering, scorched-earth
kind of guy.
Chin’s vibe has that effect on people.
I don’t feel like being in my normal cynical-d***head
state when I’m listening to Chin’s music. No, I’m
not turning into a dorky, white, hippie dread boy, but there’s
a harmony to his sound that extends beyond mere notes. The
devoutly Rasta-Jesus Chin (this will be explained shortly)
has a way of conveying spirituality through music that’s
uncommon outside the realm of pure, sanctified gospel—another
holy din this heathenous Hebrew takes to like a maggot on
an open sore.
You can experience the I-and-I-irie-one-love—or
whatever the f*** they call it—vibe on Chin’s brand-spankin’-a**-new
CD, Reggae Fever!!, which is available from the stage wherever
they play. The band is credited as RASCALIN & THE ROOTS
ROCKERS rather than Black & White because there’s
a transformation afoot. Henceforth, the band shall have two
identities—Black & White is the cover-band version;
Rascalin is the all-original showcase band. Chin hopes for
enough acceptance of his original music that he’ll soon
be able to drop the Black & White tag altogether.
So guess which version of the band gets
more gigs? Correct, Top-40 breath: in fact, Black & White
plays every Sunday evening at Twin Palms in Newport Beach.
But even though they’ve been hired to perform covers,
go see them and ask them to play originals anyway. Tell them
I sent you and that you’ve been instructed to give everyone
in the band a pink belly or a wedgie if they don’t comply.
Then buy their album because it’s, uhhh . . . jammin’,
mon.
I’m predicting here that Rascalin &
the Roots Rockers will indeed became a full-time entity if
Chin gets the exposure he deserves. The goods are clearly
there; many of his original tunes are just flat-out f***in’
lovely. My personal faves include the sweetly melodic "Lyin’
Eyes"; the bubbling, minor-chord "Black & White";
and the straight-ahead roots chunker "Can’t Say
Goodbye," all songs that effectively channel the spirits
of Bob Marley and Peter Tosh.
Talk of Chin’s music inevitably turns
to matters more celestial than mere dead reggae singers. "My
music was inspired by God," Chin states with an unearthly
smile of contentment etched onto his mug. "I wrote the
words down as they came to me. The music is basically about
justice and equality, self-redemption and emancipation from
mental slavery in a way. Free yourself from the ways of the
world and find yourself spiritually, and everything will be
okay. That’s the philosophy behind me. Everybody’s
got a spirit, and I want the music to touch everyone."
Do ya maybe wanna sell some records along
the path to spiritual enlightenment while you’re at it
there, Bunky?
"I might want some commercial . . .
I don’t like to think in this way, but some people might
like it, commercially. But the music is just a vehicle; the
message is what’s really behind everything. It’s
not about fame or money with me. It’s about if someone
can listen to my record and hear one line that would make
them feel better, then it was all worth it. Old-school roots
reggae, yeah! That’s what I want to keep doing because
that’s really a lost art. That music is spiritual."
Chin’s beliefs are difficult to construe,
and as I’m a theological retard, I ain’t going down
that road beyond allowing Chin to explain it himself.
"I’m a Rastafarian, but I believe
in the Holy Trinity, and I believe in Jesus," he says.
"I don’t think he returned yet—as opposed to
him being reincarnated as Selassie-I. I guess they call me
Jesus Rasta."
That may sound like a nice title for a new
superhero comic, but Chin’s upbringing was decidedly
normal. He was born and raised in Panama, a child of Panamanian,
Jamaican and Chinese heritage. The Jamaican influence on his
family was profound, though, and Chin was exposed to reggae
and calypso—along with South American salsa—from
the time he was small. Relocated to America by his 20s, he
soon began to learn about American rock & roll, too—the
guitar heroes in particular.
"For some reason, I thought it was
only white guys that shredded," Chin, 35, says with a
laugh. "And I had this neighbor, a white guy, and I told
him how I thought it was strange that only white guys shredded
like that. And he said, ‘Dude! Look at Jimi Hendrix and
B.B. King,’ and he started naming all these [black] guitar
players. So I bought [Hendrix’s] Smash Hits and listened
to that for a year. I listened to no other music but that
record for a year, over and over and over. After a while,
I started getting it."
You will also find that Chin plays guitar
like a real mean son of a b****, particularly when tearing
into his reggae version of "Hey Joe" or the original
instrumental "Michelle." Chin occasionally gets
lost in grimacing metal land for a second before that Rasta
look of peace and contentment comes over him again when the
guitar solo ends.
Shreddage aside, Chin’s music is dub-less,
toast-less, raga-less, pop-less purebred roots reggae, with
a heavy base in religious passion. How do local audiences,
steeped in and apparently enjoying the most heinously trendy
and commercial versions of reggae, react to the real thing?
"You know, most people are pretty cool,"
Chin coos. "All ages. They like it. Surfers to lawyers,
they all like the messages I have. [Corporate reggae is] what
they’re used to, but they come up and tell me this is
what they really like. It’s as if they were settling
for what they were given because they’d never heard real
roots reggae before. At least no one was playing it out here
[in OC]."
Not until now, Rascalin; not until now.
Black & White play at Twin Palms, 630
Newport Center Dr., Newport Beach, (949) 721-8288. Every Sun.,
6 p.m. $5 (includes free buffet). All ages.
Note: Rascalin no longer plays Twin Palms
- This was part ofthe article above..
Note: *** denotes an expletive.
** Rascalin and The Roots
Rockers were formerly known as Black & White **
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