African Star Reveals His Demons In a Majestic Live Recording.

On "Slave," Lucky Dube, the highest selling LIVING reggae artist, for many a past year, delivers a highly affecting, earnest and emotive commentary on his personal battle with the bottle. Despite the opening commentary where Dube states "we are the slaves until Africa and Africans are free," (this concert was recorded before the fall of apartheid) this song was originally composed about one man's struggle with his own demons, not the struggle by South Africa's disenfranchised black population as a whole. But, I do like how he uses the stage as a platform to protest the disgusting practice anyway.What makes this song exceptional is not just the band's tight rythm section, honey-voiced backup singers, or even the shimmering angelic salvos being fired over the heads of those in attendance by Dube's lead-guitarist. What makes this song unique, and in some ways important, is Dube's willingness to make himself completely vulnerable in the lyrics: "I have lost the dignity I had before, trying to please everybody...Sometimes I cry, Lord, I cry, but crying never helps me." Lucky is presenting the truth about the ravages of addiction - South African machismo be dammed. This "liquor slave" is getting his ass kicked by the bottle, and it's ruining his life and the lives of those he loves, and he isn't afraid to walk out on stage, and warn anyone listening to not fall into the same brand of bondage. PLEASE SEE LYRICS BELOW:Ministers of religionhave visited me many times to talk about itThey say to me I gotta leave it I gotta leave it It's a bad habit for a manBut when I try to leave itmy friends keep telling meI'm a fool amongst fools Chorus:Now I'm a slave, a slaveI'm a slaveI'm a liquor slaveI'm a slave, a slave, slaveI'm a slaveJust a liquor slaveI have lost my dignityI had before tryingto please everybodySome say to meyo yoI look better when I'm drunkSome say no no noI look bad you knowSometimes I cryI cry but my cryingnever helps me noneChorus:'Cos now I am a slave, a slaveI'm a slaveI'm just a liquor slaveI am a slave, a prisonerI'm a slaveJust a liquor slaveEvery night when I'mcoming back homeMy wife gets worried'cos she knowsShes got double troublecoming homeSometimes I cryI cry lord I cryBut my cryingnever helps me