Post month: December 2002

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It`s Snow-ing Again

Source: www.jamaicaobserver.com

If he has any anxiety as to how fickle dancehall fans will react to his new album, singjay Snow was not letting on when Splash caught up with him recently. The 32 year-old was more concerned about the sub-zero conditions he was chilling in in his native Ontario than the response to Two Hands Clapping, his comeback set.

‘Man, it’s freezing up here,’ said Snow during a phone link-up. Canada’s best-known dancehall export was in Kingston in November soaking up Jamaica’s more hospitable climes and dancehall vibe, but has been back in Maple Leaf land promoting Two Hands Clapping, which is being distributed in Canada, Japan and Europe by EMI/Virgin.

It is Snow’s first album since the little heard-of Mind On The Moon which was also distributed by Virgin. More significantly, it is five years since the release of Justuss, his third and final album for the Elektra Records affiliate, East West Records; that’s a long time to be away from the dancehall where trends change as quickly as the genre’s latest fashions.

Yet, Snow is not concerned. ‘I left on my own, it wasn’t like, ‘he’s no good no more’,’ he said. ‘I’m here still, working with the right people. It’s going to be easy.’

It hasn’t been easy on the personal front for the lanky Darren O’Brien (Snow’s given name) in the past three years. He says during that period he wallowed in drunkenness and was in and out of Toronto courts answering to a variety of charges that stemmed from his alcoholism.

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Two Hands Clapping Builds On Success Of ‘Informer’

Source: www.therecord.com

Snow in JamaicaWhen an Irish kid from a rundown Toronto neighbourhood has the power to disrupt a giant beach party in Kingston, Jamaica with merely his presence, it’s fair to say he’s a legitimate star. That’s what happened to Darrin O’Brien, better known as Snow, on a trip to the sunny island late last summer. When the 32-year-old singer arrived at the Stone Love dance, news moved through the 2,000-plus revellers at light speed until the DJ was forced to stop the music and address Snow.

‘It’s like when a supercat walks in somewhere,’ explained Los Angeles-based producer Tony Kelly, who was at the party that August night. ‘They love him in Jamaica. They don’t see him as an outsider.’

Snow, who speaks the thick patois common to the rapping style of reggae that’s known as dancehall, says his fame in Jamaica is a result of keeping his feet firmly on the ground.

‘I’m real and they can feel it,’ he said in a recent interview to promote his latest album, Two Hands Clapping. ‘In Jamaica they don’t know racism. They just know richer or poorer. It’s not black and white, so when they see me doing it they love it.’

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Allenbury To Jamaica

Source: Interview by Harris Rosen, Photos by James Barr and Harris Rosen, www.peacemagazine.com

Peace magazine photoshootSomehow it all seems to suggest things are more complex than they seem. Racial profiling, a season of street violence in Toronto, and the usual innuendoes that Jamaicans brandish the most weapons all become slightly more confusing for those seeking easy explanations. How? Just add Snow.

Born Darrin O’Brien in 1969, Snow grew up in North York’s Allenbury Projects, a place where the dreams of recent immigrants and old school Canadians square off against the often harsh realities of the city’s subsidized housing scene. It’s a place that, according to Snow, has changed dramatically over the past twenty years.

‘When I was growing up I didn’t know people who would break into people’s houses and steal their wedding bands,’ he says. ‘My neighborhood was a place where you’d see a lady come walking by with her purse and her groceries in her hand and somebody run up to her, grab the groceries and help her across the street and bring it to her house.’

Regardless of geography, this is but one tale from a city that’s currently embroiled in a rush of reminiscence about the good old days. From Allenbury to Cabbagetown to Eglinton West, people across Toronto can be heard talking about the 1970s like it was some kind of golden age. Listen to anyone over thirty and pay attention to that far away look in their eyes as they talk with this myth-like reverence about life before the sweep of crime, poverty, and social suffering.

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