This Mizell Brothers production from 1975 is surely their masterwork. No hanging about on the grid — the sublime opener Tell Me What To Do flies like a Byrd; followed by the bonafide Loft classic Los Conquistadores Chocolates, a psychedelic, heads-down floor-filler which hit big at Ron Hardy’s Chicago Music Box as well as in NYC. Fantasy was a Paradise Garage staple; and Shifting Gears is here, too — a seriously funky breaks and block party anthem, heavily sampled by classic hip hop. It’s a must… not least in the form of this 40th anniversary LP edition, with six previously unissued tracks — five tasty new numbers and a skeletal version of ‘Can’t We Smile?’

His third LP, following up Pieces Of A Man in 1972. One side of collaborations with Brian Jackson; the other, spoken word.
Adding alternate versions, the CD runs through the entire tracklisting twice.
The more expensive LP is newly remastered — all-analogue style, from the master tapes.

The Clarks’ fourth, pivotal album for Westbound’s Sound Of Gospel label, from 1979, hustling them firmly towards the dancefloor. Traditional soul-based gospel like My Cup Runneth Over alongside disco-influenced gems like My Life Is Complete With Jesus and ‘Everything Is Gonna Be Alright.

Their last Prestige, in 1970, trying out a more extended, jamming, funky style of boogaloo on Cloud Nine and a couple of Sonny Phillips’ tunes, out of five. The Pazant Brothers are in full effect on horns; jazz heroes like Seldon Powell and Bernard Purdie sit in.

No-messing funk with whiffs of reefer, hooch and baize.
Eddie and Al Pazant came through with Lionel Hampton and Pucho. These are their locked-down, brassy, smoking, streetwise blends of R&B, soul, latin and jazz, from the late 1960s and early 70s.
Fab.

Wicked, stinging sister-funk self-penned by the mighty soul singer, before more celebrated sojourns at Atlantic and Columbia. The flip is previously unreleased; also terrific.

Trying out a more seventies, soulful groove, with the likes of Woody Shaw, Carter Jefferson, Cedar Walton — and Jon Hendricks, who sings on the revival of Moanin’, and Along Came Betty.
Buhaina was Blakey’s name after his conversion to Islam. Of course A Chant For Bu was sampled by A Tribe Called Quest for their almighty Excursions. Altogether now: ‘Back in the days when I was a teenager / Before I had status and before I had a pager…’

Superbad from start to finish, this survey of the Cincinnati label in the after-shock of Papa’s Got A Brand New Bag. Almighty James Brown productions (or knock-offs) like Honky Tonk Popcorn, Unwind Yourself and Fever. That Coasters to close… bim.

Cleveland funk from 1971, featuring a popping version of Express Yourself, a do-over of The Temps’ Message From A Black Man, and — crucially — the b-boy jazz anthem, Burning Spear.

NYC soul, with at least two killers — Don’t You Care, and Never Did I Stop Loving You. BGP has unearthed some rarities; and some great photos.

Murderous southern funk from the dawn of the seventies, featuring brilliant fatback drumming by Freeman Brown and cooking organ by Clayton Ivey. Fittingly, producer Mickey Buckins lets off a siren on the flip.

From 1964, this tribute to Miles Davis is the great vibes player’s crowning glory (even including his contribution to Roger Troutman’s Unlimited album). A swinging, modal classic, massive on the Dingwalls jazz-dance scene.