“He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.” Psalm 91:1, the scripture Vybz Kartel recites at the start of God & Time, framing his latest album as a meditation on survival, faith and redemption. Now in a million dollar mansion on the album cover, after 13 years behind bars, a highly publicised battle with Graves’ disease and years spent existing as both dancehall’s biggest star and its most controversial figure, the invocation feels earned. Kartel sounds less interested in proving he is the greatest deejay alive than explaining how he got here.
This is Kartel’s third studio album since his release, following Party With Me and Heart & Soul, but it is comfortably the strongest of the three. Where those projects often felt like playlists built around the sheer force of Kartel’s personality, God & Time benefits from a clearer sense of direction. The Worl’ Boss still boasts, seduces and celebrates excess, but he also spends considerable time reflecting on family, faith, legacy and the strange realities of surviving long enough to become a living monument.
The first few tracks drift by pleasantly enough. The mood is warm and melodic, trading hardcore dancehall for beach-bar singalongs and polished R&B grooves. “Soft Girl Era” and “Some Days” are designed for streaming playlists rather than sound-system clashes, and while the melodies stick, the album almost risks becoming too comfortable for its own good.
“Confessions” with Spice jolts the record awake. Dancehall’s most dependable double act slips effortlessly back into old habits, trading flirtatious jabs and playful accusations over a beat that recalls the glossy crossover sound 2000s dancehall. Spice remains Kartel’s greatest collaborator because she does something few artists can: she forces him to compete and become better. Her sharp delivery and larger-than-life presence cut through the album’s silky textures, bringing urgency, humour and tension back into the room.
From there, the album improves considerably. The Wizkid-assisted “Stay For The Night” and the Farruko collaboration broaden Kartel’s reach beyond Jamaica without feeling too forced, while tracks such as “Panic” with Shenseea and the infectious “Round and Round” find him returning to the dancehall instincts that made King of the Dancehall such a compelling statement a decade ago. Kartel experiments with different flows, melodies and influences throughout, and more often than not the risks pay off.
The album’s strongest moment may be the long-awaited reunion with Mavado. For years, the two men defined dancehall through rivalry; here they sound like veterans aware of their place in history. You listen partly for nostalgia, partly to see if either can outshine the other. Neither does. Both deliver some of their sharpest performances in years. “There will never be another me or another you,” Mavado sings.
A couple of the smoother R&B selections could have been left on the cutting-room floor, and at 12 tracks the album would have packed a more powerful punch. But those are minor complaints.
Now 50, Kartel’s obsessions have evolved. God, family, business, mortality, women, wealth and legacy all compete for attention here. Yet for all the introspection, he hasn’t forgotten the fundamentals. He still knows how to ride a riddim, write a hook and turn a phrase better than almost anyone in dancehall.
Vybz Kartel has delivered his most complete dancehall album in a decade. If King of the Dancehall is the blueprint then God and Time is Blueprint 2.
