Chronixx: ‘Exile’ Album Review

Chronixx’s Exile arrived on 10/10/2025, and from the first note you can tell this is not Chronology Part 2, released on 07/07/2017. This isn’t a continuation; it’s a shedding. Chronixx is unlearning structure, dismissing sequence, and rejecting the comfort of expectation.

If Chronology was a story—neat, ordered, beautifully arranged—then Exile is the dream after the story ends. There’s no timeline, no need for one. Instead, we get a flow of consciousness, a meditation, a man fully in command of his artistry saying, without apology, I don’t care what you expect from me.
It’s not loud defiance. It’s understated, subtle because it’s sure, effervescent, soulful, free.

Chronixx opens with the title track Exile, and it slips in softly, like sound approaching from a distance. For a moment, you wonder if the volume is too low, then the music grows warmer, fuller, alive. It’s that quiet confidence of a man who knows he doesn’t have to prove anything anymore.

Then Exile slides into Market, a freestyle that feels spontaneous yet intentional. I remember seeing him at Skyline Levels back in February, performing after Yohan and Mystic Marley. The crowd had begun to drift when Chronixx appeared—no fanfare, no announcement, just him, free-styling, channeling. That same moment became Market.

It’s these moments that make Exile feel alive.

Ten tracks in, Chronixx gives us Genesis—and what a moment. Nine minutes and thirty seconds of pure surrender. It’s tender and sensual, but not in the obvious way. A lover’s song, yes, but also a meditation. You’re drawn in slowly, as if he’s whispering the rhythm of the universe in your ear. For nine minutes and thirty seconds, he holds you in reverie. So gentle is the approach, so complete the capture, that you forget you’re only halfway through. Genesis feels like a world of its own, a soft rendezvous wrapped in dub.

But don’t mistake tenderness for timidity. The album carries basslines that rumble your ribcage and melodies that make you want to kick your shoes off, light a bonfire, and move like your ancestors are watching. It’s roots rock reggae. It’s resilient.

Some have already called Exile “wishy-washy.” They wanted polish, pop perfection, the Chronixx of radio rotation. But Exile isn’t chasing charts—it’s chasing truth. It’s rough around the edges because life is rough around the edges.
It isn’t here to please; it’s here to be. It’s here and not there, loud and quiet, bass and guitar. It hums for minutes on end. It breathes. It’s genius in simplicity. It’s not pretentious; it’s grounding.

Exile isn’t the album you expect—it’s the one you didn’t know you needed. It’s healing, meditative, a conversation with spirit.
Listening feels like sitting in the middle of something ancient and new at once, a reminder that the truest form of artistry isn’t loud—it’s free.

Chronixx is free. Exile is his declaration.

★★★★☆

Exile is released by Forever Living Originals