Delroy’s bro in two feeling excursions on his punchy Better Must Come rhythm.

Sensational French-language do-over of the 45 Faybiene had recently cut for Jack Ruby (following up her hit Prophecy), before moving in 1977 from Kingston to Montreal with Joe Cooper (who plays organ on Police & Thieves).
Zonked, sublime and rugged like Half Moon in Toronto, with a crazy whistling effect throughout, and spaced-out dub.
Bim.

Faybiene Miranda was one of a kind — a Joni Mitchell fan from Panama City who co-published with Mutubaruka. Soon after Tropical Energy broke up she toured the UK with Benjamin Zephaniah, reading her poetry. Before her death in 2013 she was living in Brooklyn, amongst Steel Pulse crew.

Can’t bubble, can’t cook, can’t even dress properly.

Soundboy vibes over a hard-driving, clattering rhythm.

Tough, thumping Jammys from 1989, with expert falsetto singing from CT.

Magnificent, militant roots with the heart of a lion. Bunny’s greatest record under his own name, much superior to the version on the Liberation LP, this was originally released as a UK disco 45 in the early eighties.

The finest of his dancehall interventions with the Roots Radics, as the eighties progressed. This is taut and simple, tough and atmospheric, triumphant.

Heavyweight, apocalyptic Bunny, with a burial b-line, burning horns, masterful dub. By a mile the best thing on Blackheart Man.

Ferociously magnificent, utterly crucial collection of his late-seventies singles, chanting it down like a more blood-and-fire, non-bucolic Burning Spear. Produced by Glen Brown, mixed by King Tubby. Towering roots reggae, inspired through and through, from start to finish; hotly recommended.

Sylford has gifted us some stone classics: Deuteronomy and Lambs Bread, with Glen Brown; Burn Babylon and Jah Golden Pen, with Joe Gibbs. And here’s another humdinger, this time with Clive Hunt.
Heavy, aching, bass-bin murder. It’s a must.