Looking for Jamaican Vocals

[ThisIsSovereign]

Easy guys, basically I need someone to lay down a sentence I have prepared for one of my upcoming tracks in a convincing Jamaican sounding voice. I tried doing it myself but my white ass just can't do it and no matter how I play with it my girlfriend can tell it's my voice and yeah it's hilariously awful.

This is the line I need done:

Music without sub-bass is like... like life without love...... ya just can't feel it.

So yeah you can post stems for it here or contact me via e-mail or AIM, both of which are: stephen@thisissovereign.com

Big ups fellas.

[hutyluty]

I know a jamaican guy

he says stop raping my culture

[Artie_Fufkin]

raping my culture

this is dubstepforum, is it not?

OP, this might help you find who you're looking for

[dickman69]

lol that line is str8 corn

[chekov]

I know a jamaican guy

he says stop raping my culture

[__________]

m7.9 you will at the very least need a "seen?" at the end to make it porper jamiacen

[ehbes]

This thread is so Babylon it hurts

[ThisIsSovereign]

Hey if anyone can come up with a better way to phrase the line while still keeping the meaning intact then by all means suggest something.

[sunny_b_uk]

This thread is so Babylon it hurts

[alphacat]

What's even funnier is that if you actually go to Jamaica and visit a recording studio, there's literally like 20, 30 guys hanging out in its yard smoking weed waiting for a chance to cut a vocal on someone's disc. They even get pushy if they think you're an easy mark. But you could seriously go and probably pay someone $20 US and they'd do a whole track for you.

[Harkat]

What's even funnier is that if you actually go to Jamaica and visit a recording studio, there's literally like 20, 30 guys hanging out in its yard smoking weed waiting for a chance to cut a vocal on someone's disc. They even get pushy if they think you're an easy mark. But you could seriously go and probably pay someone $20 US and they'd do a whole track for you.

There's a sketch in there somewhere where white middle england producer boys go to pick out the badman patois MCs the same way scummy white sex tourists pick out 11 year old boys in south-east asia.

Delivering a line like OPs is roughly as degrading as involuntarily sucking 40-year old cock anyway.

[Pedro Sánchez]

Check out Boyinaband on youtube full of Jamaican soundbites.

[didi]

ffs this thread looooool is this real life?

"Music without sub-bass is like... like life without love...... ya just can't feel it."

[ActionJesus]

this thread is so fuckin jokes

good lord sir, grow some balls and sample old dub videos/documentaries/tunes, get educated while youre at it.

[alphacat]

What I'd give to have an audio transcript of this...

The Creature

I woke up early this morning, had a cup of coffee, and then left the house in a bit of a rush. Just like in the days when I was employed.

I struggled hard to grasp that concept - unemployment. What a difficult transition to make, employed to unemployed.

The days seem longer, not to mention the nights. Sometimes, for hours I'd lay in bed, just staring at the ceiling. Wishing that a job would somehow materialise. Wishful thinking, uh.

I even shower sometimes and dress in work clothes, and head through the door. Trying hard to convince myself that there is indeed life after unemployment.

This morning, I drove to 'Back Road' to bask in the serenity of the sea waves. I parked my car with my back to the sun, adjacent to where those skimpily clad ladies ply their trade.

At this time of the morning, it was just me and the seagulls. The rushing waves bashing lazily against the seashore could also be heard.

I sat in my car and listened, while I munched on a piece of stale white bread I had in the car. I washed that down with some car-temperature water. That was breakfast.

Facing the Hellshire Hills, I could view the entire 'Back Road' stretch. From Laroose to Rodney's Arms and up to the quiet hills of Fort Augusta. It was a peaceful experience.

I concentrated briefly to those rushing waves battering the seashore. Like a scratched record, it went on and on. Like music to my depressed ear.

I glanced to my left at the peaceful Caribbean Sea. I observed what I initially thought was a man swimming in the deep waters. I looked away as it was not unusual to see swimmers in the early morning.


BIG SURPRISE

To my surprise, I heard the sound of flapping wings. I turned around in time to see the person airborne. "A wha dis, fawda?" I soliloquised. The 'person' was flying towards me at a leisurely pace. I tried to beat a hasty retreat. I tried to start the car. It wouldn't budge. I got out and tried to run. My legs were frozen.

"Lawd, me dedd now!" I screamed. While 'Bird Man' flew towards me.

I sat back in the car. Resigned to my faith. "What is to be must be yaw, Lawd."

Then bird man landed in front of me, on what appears to be dumped up land. That piece of earth right across from Cookies.

Bird man didn't appear to see me, while I was busy in the car wetting my pants. I looked at him in detail. It stood about 6' 9". It looked human except for this one eye in the centre of its forehead. It was green in colour and had webbed hands and feet and a scaly body. Its wing span was about 10 feet. It was bipedalled, walking past my car and heading towards the road. Water was dripping from its skin. As it passed within five feet of my car, it bared its fangs, in what seemed like a menacing grin.

I jumped back in awe and hid under the back seat." A wonda if him si mi?" I questioned.

My question was immediately answered when the creature stopped, turned around and looked me in the eyes. It started to walk towards me with that unfriendly grin and I could swear that I, at that moment, had lost consciousness. I was awash with cold sweat.


LEGS DYSFUNCTIONAL

I tried to run again. My legs just weren't working. This is it then. Goodbye all. My kids, my girlfriend, everyone. I'll see you at the Great Resurrection. I was pronouncing myself dead.

Then out of nowhere I heard the blaring of sirens. Some policemen in a lopsided 'King Fish' were chasing some gunmen in a Lexus. No match for speed there at all.

So the commotion went on. "Stap in de name of de law!" the policeman shouted.

Bang! Bang! Pow! Pow!

The police fired and the gangsters fired back. A shoot-out was taking place on 'Back Road'.

The creature looked puzzled. "What the hell is going on?" it was probably thinking.

It ran towards my car, leapt over it then was again airborne. It flapped its large wings and slowly drifted out into the distance. My eyes were glued to the creature, until it dove back into the sea.

The siren and gunshots did the trick, or I'd be bird man's morning meal. I never thought I'd be saying this, but thank God for police and bad men. They certainly did save my life on that infamous morning.

I started my car and did a disappearing act myself. Poof into the sunset.

[mks]

[ezza]

'Music without sub-bass is like... like life without love...... ya just can't feel it.'

doesn't really make sense tbf m8

[mks]

lord a mercy

[legend4ry]

I'll do it for 40$.




lol

[SunkLo]

Was kind of expecting this thread to turn into the audio version of one of those photoshop troll threads. Tons of clips in Russian, Scottish, Chinese accents and then one in perfect patois saying "Music witout midrange is like... like life witout gloves...... ya just can't peel it, kno mi say bladclaaaat"