Groundation

Reggae feels like an illicit lover. I grew up in Wheat Ridge, Colorado, home of the farmers. Do I really have any business asking questions like "When Jah gonna' rule dem?" or letting anyone within earshot know that "We not forget Zion!"? It seems like these are statements meant to come from men of deeply rooted soul. Or at least with much nappier dreads. My greasy blond hair is kept short, or at best, frat-shaggy. So where, then, does this love of Groundation stem?

That's an easy question, one meant to be answered in the pithy simplicity of my little blog. I learned to love these guys while I was climbing in Rifle last year. It seemed like every time Katie and I swung the Subaru (see, super suburbanite) into the canyon, our ipod (again) would be blaring this stuff. Now I've got one particularly fond memory association between great climbing trips and music.

Add some of these songs to your favorite activity and hanging with your girlfriend, and you, too, will have a new paramour.