Artist:Earnest Jackson

It’s 1am you’re sticky from beer and cocktail jugs. The club was a let down but your Collins St apartment is ready for kick-ons. You’re buzzing, he’s sexy, you’re sexy, the door swings open, smoke seeps into the hallway… Cuban… Mont Blanc… He’s only human… Or is he… Earnest Jackson. His smooth baritone voice melts over rhyme after rhyme, rapping so effortlessly. A new hip hop sound, the intensity of a full throttle jet ski… a flow of whiskey on ice that burns but makes you wanna move and groove and fill your body with the energy that he has enthused out and into your mood… Earnest Jackson. The beat comes in and so do you, jacket off and down to your socks. His fresh pressed blazer open, leading your gaze down to that unshorn, unshaven, fleecy whiskered chest - dripping with beads of sweat. You’re confused, it’s cold, why is he sweating? But then it plays, the answer to your question, the sound, so very naughty, yet the sound you want to be a little naughtier. The perfect ...