Jimmy Cliff is an artist to be watched. If you haven't seen The Harder They Come, starring Cliff in the first feature film made in and about Jamaica, do. Cliff wrote and sings five of the film's songs and they are stunners, embodying the kinky persona he projects in his role as a street singer who asks too many questions and wants the world to shake ass when he makes music…. [His] lyrics combine a touching sincerity with the arrogance of youth. He left me lost on the last notes of his persuasive lullabies, ready for more.

The soundtrack album … is a delight, offering a vivisection of Jamaican music by Cliff and other pop artists…. It's downright defiant, and only threatening if you got what you want. Yet, as in the movie, Cliff comes on strong and emerges as the music's man of most substance. His style was spawned from Jamaica's cradle and nourished by English and American pop until a cross-fertilization occurred to produce his singular sound. Reggae was his chief craft but, just as Marvin Gaye and Stevie Wonder were merely "soul" singers at first, Cliff's reggae thing keeps on growing and narrow definitions crumble.

This period of experimentation is far from over. It is in evidence on Unlimited…. The lp is hybrid; the departures from regular reggae are interesting even if they don't always work. (p. 81)

["World of Peace"] illustrates the excesses that mar this lp. It borders on the banal, lyrically; the message is larger than even the Mormon Tabernacle Choir could handle. The instruments sound great but they drown in the importance of the statement. Like Marley, Cliff spices the carefree easy beat with social conscience. Slavery and oppression are most often dealt with, the singers snickering at the wispy garments of pretension and dishonesty. But the power of such emotions, so well expressed in The Harder They Come, becomes pulverized too often here by a cloying earnestness…. This problem remains throughout, most notably on "Commercialization" and several cuts on side two, including the otherwise compelling "Price of Peace." Where is the diamond in the rough of Harder They Come? Shimmering somewhere in the gold wristwatches and rings smothering the pluck of the funkiest rhythms on earth.

Still Cliff is by no means complacent; musically his mixing and matching of gospel, soul, reggae and pop can be exciting…. "Oh Jamaica" should be her national anthem…. Cliff opens the song with a jibe at all patriotic songs, then offers a more palatable alternative.

Wonderful World, Beautiful People, first released three years ago …, should not again go unnoticed. It contains Cliff's most moving personal testimony, "Many Rivers to Cross."… Cliff is at his best when bemoaning all the shit he's had to swallow; the burdens he had to shoulder seem worthwhile when a song like this is the end product. "Vietnam" rocks okay and has something to say besides…. [You] can almost feel Cliff ready to spread his wings.

There can be no doubt of the expansion of energies from Wonderful World to the more eclectic Unlimited. Although Harder They Come stands apart on the strength of Cliff's inspiration and momentum from working on the film itself, Unlimited spans a wider stance and is a more adventurous effort. The passions of recklessness are giving way to a cooler professionalism. But because it lacks power, it doesn't deliver all the tempting promises that Harder They Come made. It's a substantial step up the stairs that lead where? with occasional slip-ups on the lyrical ladder. (pp. 81-2)