



Studio Rarekwai
Laurence King Publishing I thought this was going to be a book about stickers. But it’s actually a book of stickers. There aren’t any words. One of the upsides of this is that the book smells absolutely delicious. It’s kind of like old-fashioned furniture polish, the kind that you rub on instead of spray on. It’s a resiny, Norwegian forest aroma with a cloying petrochemical undertone. On the downside it’s nearly totally useless. I mean, luckily I don’t like sticking pictures on my pencil case anymore, but if I did I would be faced with a terrible dilemma: do I remove the stickers and use them, or leave the book intact as a reference to the fascinating phenomenon of street art stickers? If the whole idea was to really confuse and torment street art enthusiasts then I am 100 percent behind it. As it is, I am just sat here sniffing it and wondering how old the men who draw these things are. laurenceking.co.uk
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Beth Lesser
Soul Jazz Publishing On the heels of their amazing first outing, New York Noise, the new publishing wing of Soul Jazz Records has come up with this corker. Lesser’s photos are a far cry from what many people now associate with dancehall culture. There are no masculine girls in Jamaican-flag hotpants and hoodie suits or celebrities with soft-drink endorsement deals. Instead, this book chronicles the period in the 80s when reggae and roots started to succumb to the pull of the more aggressive, sexual, and party-orientated dancehall, becoming what is commonly known as “a bit more exciting”. Sadly, it wasn’t too long before it became “a lot more shitty”. But this book captures the golden age that existed between those two periods. These images are a bit like those early rap photo books of New York kids in Puma Suedes, rope chains, and Kangol hats on the subway would be if they hadn’t been churned out ad nauseum: A rare insight into an era that many photographers failed to document anywhere near as effectively as Lesser did. souljazzrecords.co.uk
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