A four-tracker nodding to the Revolutionaries’ late-seventies instrumental EPs out of Maxfield Avenue.
A double whammy of knockout dubs.
First, a head-turning brace for all darker-than-blue massive. A down-to-the-bone version of Pam Hall’s haunted Lovers take on The Stylistics’ Children of the Night; and the startling dub of Junior Moore’s lovely cover of The Isley Brothers’ Voyage to Atlantis. In both the scraps of singing are deadly.
Then two evilous dubs of classic Hopeton Lewis roots, saturated in classic Channel One hard-grooving intensity. Like the opener, never released before now.

Keith cut some sides for JA producers in the early ‘70s, before moving to New York. In the first half of the ‘80s, his Lovebird label released mostly his own productions, like Honey Bee Fantasy… slow-burning, mid-eighties boogie, nervy with a delicious outsider wrongness. None other than Charles Earland plays keys; Canadian singer Ann Marie handles backing vocals.
AM bounces back on the PM, fronting the first incarnation of the Roots Radics, including Blacka and Bingy Bunny from the Morwells. Sweetly fragile, tentative singing over a dreadnought rhythm.
Painstakingly sleeved as per the original.

Gorgeous roots. Seemingly sardonic and above-it-all but utterly trenchant. All the singing is sublime, including the back-up. The gentle nyabinghi percussion and keyboard stabs are beautifully restrained, as Sylvan Morris brings his genius to the mix. Same dub as the original 45. A stone classic. We could listen for days.
Plus the 12 Tribes launch a two-headed-shark attack on the flip, featuring maestro Pablove Black. No less than an instrumental cut to George Beaufort’s insurgent Reaching Our Goal, and a sick synth excursion on the revered Black Star Liner rhythm.

Over to Digikiller…
‘Howard ‘Sir Tommy’ Mapp is one of the original guard of New York sound men, playing sound system since 1974. Around a decade after that, he began producing for his newly formed label of the same name. Later in the 1990s he established his own studio, which became a hub of the city’s dancehall scene. In true independent fashion, Tommy covered nearly every aspect of the reggae business himself, like Wackie’s, Jah Life and Philip Smart. We’re proud to finally present the first reissue of the early gems in Tommy’s catalogue and make some more classic New York reggae accessible again. So what better to start with than a new compilation, 100% heaters, culled from long unavailable singles and albums. We cannot recommend this record enough, as Tommy’s early production output mainly falls in two of our most beloved categories — the mid ‘80s sound of Channel 1 as played by the Gifted Roots Band, and the late ‘80s early digital sound. This LP is packed with prime cuts of just such music. Absolutely essential stuff for 1980s reggae heads.’

‘Our long overdue return to the Chopper label, which we first reissued way back in 2010. This twelve song LP corrals all our favourites we haven’t previously revived. A mix of early ‘80s style live rhythms laid at Channel 1 and some great classical late ‘80s digital style. Lionel Barrett was the original and perhaps the core artist of the Chopper stable, and is featured heavily here. A few of his tracks as well as a couple of others here are now issued on vinyl for the first time. The remaining are retrieved from long out of press albums and singles. A great overview of a prolific JA-NYC label from dancehall’s best era.’

Start-to-finish killer combination of heavier-than-lead Roots Radics rhythms, wild Scientist mixing, and the Flick’s unique singing, often falsetto. Kicks off with an Ain’t Too Proud To Beg.

Three edgy, hard-nosed Wackies steppers.
The propulsive version of Home To Africa here is new to the world, from the original session tapes; and twinned with a nuggety version dusted down and polished especially for this release by Lloyd Barnes himself.

One of the top, top Barringtons on Jah Life. Heavy Channel One rhythms, each quite different; with banging dubs.
Barrington has a rather general go at his dad, mister One-Foot. ‘You are my father, so give me tings, give me tings.’ ‘You don’t buy me no shoes so I can do the boogaloo.’

A stupendous haul of sound-system specials and inspired experiments conjured from some of the greatest reggae rhythms of all time, from the inner sanctum of King Tubby’s studio in the mid-seventies (where Philip Smart was second engineer).
Seething with lethal touches of Tubby; dotted with head-spinning walk-ons for Hugh Mundell, Johnny Clarke, Jacob Miller and co; steeped in the genius of young Augustus Pablo, Smart’s childhood friend.
A staggering turn-up. Utterly crucial.

Biff, baff, boof.
Two hunks of deep Wackies roots; and an amazing, previously unreleased coup de grace.
First off, a haunting, dazed, raving account of being kicked out of a squat; with heavy bass, killer organ, sublime backing vocals, and a hurting, searing Stranger Cole. ‘We’ve got to find a better place.’
Then a tough instrumental outing on the same deadly, signature Wackies rhythm as Clive Hunt’s Black Rose, by Wanachi.
And on the flip: stark, visionary, semi-acoustic primitivism, from the same drama school as early Ras Michael & The Sons of Negus.
Unmissable Wackies.

Ten killer dubs of Barrington Levy, mixed at Tubby’s, mostly unreleased. (The album was shelved in late 1980.)