This album could make him important in the genre because of his authentic sincerity, unlike the commercially inspired or ritually programmed sincerity of many. 'Parables" - the title evidences his spiritual and religious bias - is a heartfelt musical conversation ("hey there, give I&I a listening ear") with society, designed to empower and uplift people by increasing love and peace in the world.

Tarrus' early years were spent in music studios and traveling the world with his dad. He picked up something special along the way. He is a songwriter of uncommon intelligence, breadth with a deft touch. His emotional and spiritual IQ matches his heartfelt sincerity. As a singer, his vocal style is reassuring. It conveys his every mood, concern and context eloquently. His songwriting is bold, yet definitive, passionate and authentic, without being strident or overly militant. Except for the same surname, Tarrus, while clearly not possessing his famous father's voice with its sharp edge, is content musically to create his own legacy.

Cultural reggae albums can sometimes sound formulaic and be one dimensional. "Parables," a concept album, covers all the usual Rastafari themes: one love, social commentary, and romantic love. Yet he covers them with far more depth. Taurus' social commentary seeks equality for all, while being partial to the constituency who are poor, desperate, and hungry for food. He never falls into the ghetto youth/poor people defender trap, which blindsides so many Rasta chanters.

Throughout the album, his conversation of the ills of the world is reasoned, not despairing. He never sounds disdainful, pedantically preachy, arrogant or even cynical. Riley's humility and hope shines through.  The pairing with Producer Dean 'Cannon' Frazer enthralls listeners with his musical ingenuity. It's a masterful pairing that moves the album from good to great. Because of Frazer's penchant for the big, robust sounds of his live shows, which he skillfully replicates here, he weaves Tarrus' vocal in and out of the music, complementing and accentuating his vocal emphasis and themes. It also gives the music the feel of a live concert. In order to get this brilliant sound, Cannon used eight different bass players and six drummers of varying styles.

He opens the album with "System Set" (Willie Lynch Syndrome) - the heavy rock guitar supports his understated vocals with its intense passion.  On "Haunt You," the interplay between Kirk Bennett's one-three drum pattern and lead guitar melodic riffing is rhythmically sweet as are the neatly placed harmonies.

On "Beware," the most jarring cut, Irie FM's Elise Kelly's reportage of a drive-by shooting sets the tone. Tarrus is brilliant and incisive with his chilling narrative of ..:NAMESPACE PREFIX = ST1 />Jamaica's implosion from gratuitous violence.  He cautions "what we need is brain food and belly food for our health so don't get caught up in a petty passion and let us make a change in meditation." When he says he "could use the strength for cultivation" you suspect he is talking about cultivation of mind, soul, and body. The cold inhumanity of the Jamaican shottas is graphic "Blood flooding the streets/Geez, all woman dem no partial, whey mek dem kill di ole ladi' an de ole man." Rhythmically set to an updated one-drop riddim of Half Pint's '80s jam "Political Flicshun" Robbie's moog-phaser bass drop-loops, and the blaring horns, perfectly complement Tarrus's haunting vocals.

His concerns on "Micro Chip," are wide ranging. He discusses Y2K paranoia, which he mockingly derides as he cautions mankind against its increasing dependence on technology and its traps as it robs him of his physical development. On "Two Order," sweet achy harmonies complement the organ phrasing and the marching drum track. His cover of the John Legend hit, "Stay with You," follows the Jamaican tradition of retro-fitting great R&B tunes in Jamaican style. It's worth mentioning as the song moves up reggae charts in Florida, Jamaica and New York, doing what covers rarely do - rivaling the original.

"She's Royal," a Rasta love song, is refreshing. He says "She needs to be more than wined and dined." The flowing, low, choppy horn sequence cozies up to the cascading organ underbelly, harmonizing with Tarrus' vocals, which ride the drum and bass. 

"Something Strong" is an emotionally charged testament to undying love set on the updated version of Beres Hammond's classic "Groovy Little Thing."  

Tarrus waxes philosophic, "Love is what dreams are made of. Show them that true love's a conqueror, love that dreams are made of."

The spiritually declarative "Lion Paw," is an enthusiastic infusion of pure Rasta rhetoric "Should you feel like giving up, let the strength of your ancestors fill your cup" is complemented by the ambient mood set to a slow jam Nyahbinghi drumming and celestial harmonies.

On "Parables," Tarrus cleverly appropriates nursery rhymes to educate youth of some of the things they face. He interweaves the "Three Blind Mice" nursery rhyme and melody over current events, such as Hurricane Katrina and the recent Tsunami, infusing a conspiratorial edge, as he cautions "You got to sus it, read between the lines and wise."

"Pick up the Pieces," is a genuine love story about recapturing trust. He says "Still there is nothing like a real love, and for that we have to chance above all cost its priceless." This is one of the most inspiring tracks on the CD.  John Williams' classical violin discreetly glides as the rhythm guitar and drum pattern pushes the tempo and Frazer's breezy sax interludes lift the tune.

Tarrus segues into "Let Love Live." On this track with Duane Stephenson, lead singer of the group Isis, they urge mankind to "Plant a seed of love" in life's musical rose garden because "it should be active in our lives."

On "The Family," with Della Manley, is a beautiful arrangement of violin interludes and choppy guitar riffs, which complement the message. In a system that is "set to keep the family out there fighting," unity is the answer because "it starts with family" and "the home is the first nursery." Given the huge amount of blood spilling in Jamaica, the family, not "One Blood," despite its unifying symbolism, might be the most appropriate metaphor for unity. Too much blood-letting requires that we "check the blood you bleed", bleeding leads to death. Ironic that 95 percent of the human body is made of water because "when we are thirsty, it's not blood that you ask for." Tarrus' unifier is that "we all are One Human Family" if we see "Every one's your relative," this makes us "all are one skin." With "more love active in our lives" we can "strengthen the family."

..[if !vml]-->The final song "My Baby (Cyan sleep)", an acoustic acapella track about the push and pull of a Rasta's parenting skills, is an unusual song. With the baby sounds augmenting his story line, Tarrus tell of his sleepless nights as his "own way" baby fights her mother for breast.

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