In an open-air club in the hills above Kingston, the half-dozen members of the Turbo Force sound system huddle behind a sculptural citadel of equipment, sifting through a mountain of 45s. Working two turntables, one of the Turbo Force DJs jaggedly switches selections like the stations on a transistor radio, warming up the crowd, although as happens in Jamaica, the party is in the street. Groups of girls in platinum wigs and tight dresses lean against cars parked bumper-to-bumper along the dark, curving road carved into the cliff. Motorcycles roar up and down outside the club, disappearing round the bend on... More >>>