Lovely; absolutely lovely. This is a fine union, a musical marriage of some of the finest we have heard in ragga, dancehall, hip-hop and the very ingredients of plain simple good music. It leaves your ears with a song that will woo and charm, with the towering effect of a gushing tidal wave.
At times, you wonder whether a Radio & Weasel song should move you; the boys are so good it is almost hard to expect crap from them. But in this song, just like in past songs, we see the aesthetic effects that the joining of charming energies can wield, when brought together into a jigsaw fit.
Pallaso and The Mess are like spicy additives, sprawling a little seasoning here, a little flavouring there, and making the song the meal of variety that it is. The Mess’ rap at the end is a proper urbane affair, nothing like wrongly accented dos we are used to here. Pallaso and Weasel complement each other so well, one could easily sit in for the other.
Radio, as always, is at his best when soaring high on the tide of a flying chorus; and he gives you some of his best treatment here, pouring his heart out to the girl whose eyes will likely cause his downfall. Amaaso is lovely, absolutely lovely.