Judy Mowatt

The drum sets an ominous marching pace, the organ sends out a series of telegraphic
beeps, the bass kicks in with the thickest of notes, and Eddy Grant cries out, "Boy!" to
begin the strut down "Electric Avenue," the grittiest dance track since "The Message."
Although the song addresses itself to the problems of the black London ghetto of Brixton,
which has been torn apart by riots in recent years, it really captures the nervou... More >

Mowatt seems like an exceptionally decent person. Her avowals of sisterhood are a welcome corrective to Rasta sexism. But as a frontwoman she's a backup singer. The straightforward decorum of her timbre suits her fine, but her lack of inborn dramatic grace and soul technique make her modest tunes more tedious than they have to be. And I don't hear the boys in the band putting their backs into it. (Grade: B-)