Looking at the respective states of American bro-country and Jamaican dancehall, it's hard to imagine that these genres ever had anything to do with each other. But in the 1960s, the harmonies of country music were big in Jamaica, as can be heard most explicitly on comps like Noah Found Grace. Or, as the owner of reggae specialty shop Deadly Dragon Sound once explained: "You can always tell when a collection of Jamaican LPs is bona fide when you come across a copy of Marty Robbins' 1959 smash hit Gunfighter Ballads." This strange hybrid continues on in the work of multitasking singer/songwriter Jeb Loy Nichols.
Nichols—born in Wyoming but now based in Wales—boasts a peculiar skill set that includes doing artwork for the reggae reissue imprint Pressure Sounds as well as curating the Country Got Soul series. So it’s no real surprise that country and reggae commingle on Nichols' eighth album Long Time Traveller, previously only issued in Japan in 2010 and now re-released on On-U Sound with a second disc of alternate mixes. Produced by Adrian Sherwood and since-deceased Roots Radics drummer Style Scott, Traveller has an ease about it that stems from Nichols’ long familiarity with both forms.
A dribble of keys and guitar upstroke introduce "To Be Rich (Should Be a Crime)," a song that replicates the classic sound of Studio One right down to the Jackie Mittoo-esque keyboard solo taken midway through. Nichols’ drawl is just behind the beat, as easeful as classic rocksteady crooners like Ken Boothe or Errol Dunkley. So closely does Nichols replicate the music of that bygone era that the songs can sound like standards, even though they are primarily originals. Nichols and his mates backing him up aren’t trying to push the envelope so much as just enjoy a mild, swaying lilt, as on "97 Miles." It’s relaxed to the point of narcolepsy, and while the cool ruler Gregory Isaacs no doubt figures into Nichols and his vocal delivery, he often just sounds drowsy. There’s a sprinkle of dub effects added to the drums of "Salt of a Fallen Tear," while there’s a dash acoustic guitar twang on "Lonely King of the Country," but rarely do Nichols’ country and roots actually entwine. It avoids the weed-infused gimmickry of Willie Nelson’s own stab at reggae on Countryman, but Traveller could stand either more splinters or more spliffs on its too-smooth moves.
