Money in My Pocket

The melodica that surfaces in the arrangement here is like a thread connecting this track back to the roots-reggae tradition even as Dennis Brown's voice reaches outward toward a more universal celebration. The riddim is buoyant and deliberate, a slow groove that does not rush its satisfaction, and Brown's tenor — a remarkable instrument, arguably the most purely beautiful voice in Jamaican popular music — rides it with an almost casual mastery. There is a sweetness in the production that is entirely earned rather than saccharine: warm guitar tones, bass that lopes rather than stomps, percussion tucked in just far enough to feel like an accent rather than a demand. The song's emotional content is simply joy — uncomplicated, unironic celebration of having enough, of material comfort achieved after struggle. In the context of the late 1970s Kingston ghetto experience, "enough" was never trivial, and Brown delivers the lyric with a conviction that transforms a simple statement of fact into testimony. This song has been covered and sampled innumerable times because its fundamental feeling is so cleanly captured — the pleasure of the groove matches the pleasure in the words. Reach for it on payday, after finishing something difficult, or any morning that deserves marking.