It must be a soulless job trawling through the classic reggae archives finding the choicest cuts to plunder for your next commercial offering. Here Horace Andy appears to have been the main victim. Most such albums will give you a few decent tracks before sliding into obscurity; this doesn’t get beyond the well produced opening effort Milk and Honey. Hollie Cook’s vocals are saccharine sweet and the subject matter is pre-adolescent, with the combination becoming less and less appealing as the album progresses. Perhaps there is a market for synthetic reggae with lyrics that would make Stock, Aitken and Waterman blush, but I’m not sure where.
