You can tell that Weak Size Fish’s The Drift is lovingly written and produced, but what might surprise you about this latest release from the New Brunswick Reggae outfit is just how incredibly legit it sounds.
Reggae seems to move through the ocean, gathering sounds and creating local flavours every time musicians look far out the sea to find the slow groove of the waves connecting every shore. Like an invitation to a quieter, wiser life, where kinship and freedom reign supreme. It washes over British and LA ska-punk, East Coast jam bands, Latinx techno-cumbia, people’s choice reggaeton, and the equal parts sunshine and fog reggae of Atlantic Canada.
This later spirit is alive in Nick Mazerolle’s voice, full of character and relaxed cadences. His style adopts reggae conventions while preserving authenticity and sidestepping impersonation. He sings in few words, presenting simple ideas of unity and expanding horizons. The voice very much in service of the songs.
That may well be the case with all elements present in the record, in fact. The songwriting and production work here is very detailed, with every sound falling in place like a carefully placed block. There is a refreshing restraint from over-indulgence in The Drift, instead leveraging the power of clever lines and repeat-surprise cycles. The style in most of the tracks leans towards roots and dub, and the expected signature sounds are well represented: massive gated snares, deep bass and kick, spring reverbs and dotted-eight delays. The guitars are appropriately honky and plucky, the horns lush and expressive, the organ dark and percussive, and the percussion ever-present. The production sound could be mistaken for the classics at times, but in a saluting rather than derivative way. This is particularly true of the third cut, Elevate, a collaboration with Dub Kartel’s KDZ.
The band fits Mazerolle like a glove, and extends in all directions, revealing backgrounds in reggae, dub, roots, hip-hop, and rock n’ roll. They play with the wonderful precision of human beats, sprinkled with the unique Caribbean swing brought in by percussionist Juan Morales. You can tell that the comfort of a long history permeates the band, and everyone brings their best just the same. Jeannine Gallant and Greg Profit meld great and give a ton of presence to the horns, on trombone and sax respectively. The keys by Adam Tattersall cradle the open space warmly and in sync with the rhythm guitar. They provide great counterpoint to the backbone of it all, the finely tuned, massive-sounding rhythm block provided by drummer Bryan Munn and bassist Andrew Thomson.
For a favourite cut I could pick “Reflect/Rewind.” From the single note bass and guitar rhythm break that opens the dub section around minute 2:20 on, this track just slaps. First with an extended build-up that patiently gathers anticipation, then with a great dance release, then a heavier dub, and finally ending with an even more vibrant reprise. Just great sounds and great fun.
I am also partial to the eighth track, “Never Know.” Opening with a trip-hop vibe and half a cup of… Floyd? The song is a collaboration with singer Brooke Burns, whose melancholic, longing voice feels right at home in the moody intro. And just when the song would start to feel out of place, horns are brought in to give it the hope of soul and reggae, then everything explodes into a powerful wail that fades into dub for the ending. Finally everything fades, leaving only trails of tape echoes behind to die with a squeak.
That squeak is likely a quick crank of the delay speed knob, and it’s an interesting little detail to leave in. In fact, details like these are all over The Drift and give the record a lot of personality. They also help it feel more like a record rather than a collection of tracks. They go from simple things like manipulating echoes, panning, and the acoustic space in general, to the synth play at the beginning of “Roots Of Creation”, to the fine listening curve provided by the track sorting, to the fact that the record is elegantly book-ended with instrumental short pieces. Opening with an enticing dub chill, and saying goodbye with… well, aloha from The Maritimes.
All in all, The Drift is an easy recommendation. A fun, high-quality, endlessly listenable, hopeful record. Sure to find a home in the hearts of all of us eagerly awaiting for the clouds to part, the sun to shine, and the waves to hit.