Leroy Brown’s killer detournement of Bobby Bland’s classic Ain’t No Love In The Heart Of The City, plus Clint Eastwood’s storming deejay excursion.
It’s a shame there’s no room for the stunning dub on the original Stagesound release of the Clint, but you can’t have everything.
It’s a must.

‘Pure pleasure is what it is,’ writes Byron Coley. ‘This was probably the first time Hurley brought his band out of the hills. Guitar, bass, drums, piano and trumpet, all of them beautifully in sync and swinging like the rural hippie boogie band they were — tested by long nights in halls filled with rowdy snowmobilers and the women who love them. Hurley & the Redbirds were more than ready to bowl over the city slickers who filled Folk City this hot mid-summer evening. Snock’s voice is limber and strong, flipping easily into falsetto and yodels, and the music is faultless. Something like the Platonic ideal of what ‘bar rock’ can be. They only do one tune from Have Moicy!, but nobody could have minded. The music rolls out like the sweetest-ever guzzle of maple syrup laced with Mello Corn Whiskey. So loaded, so powerful, you’re likely to shit the bed if you listen lying down.’
Recorded in NYC in 1976.

From 1964, a fresh, invigorating, up-for-it, personal take on happening US jazz — Coltrane in particular — blending in themes from Polish folk music. Try the rollicking Piatawka, with its evocation of highlander bagpipes. Scorcher!

Multi-instrumentalist Namyslowski was an alumnus of Krystof Komeda’s ground-breaking quintet. In the early sixties, he formed the Jazz Rockers with Micha Urbaniak, and in 1962 both joined The Wreckers, playing the Newport Jazz Festival. In 1964 his own Modern Jazz Quartet toured throughout England, Scotland, and Wales. “We had songs like Piatawka in the programme, inspired by Polish mountain folklore… These were the forms that had never been heard there before… Not only was I a musician from behind the ‘Iron Curtain’, but it also turned out that this musician had his own voice and showed something innovatory.”
Pianist Wlodzimierz Gulgowski plays a blinder, too; nodding to both Chopin and Mal Waldron. (A decade later he hooked up with Urbaniak, for the LPs Fusion III and Funk Factory.)
Lola was recorded in London; produced by Mike Vernon, who founded the Blue Horizon label, and produced Fleetwood Mac and David Bowie, amongst others. For the cover shot, Decca commissioned the same photographer as for the first Rolling Stones LP, to follow suit. “We are in the same sweaters from Marks & Spencers, only each in a different colour.”

From 1974, featuring knockout rare groove like I Don’t Need Nobody Else and What Do You Want Me To Do.
Limber, feeling and introspective, with full horns and strings setting fine songs and frankly soulful singing.
Lou came through in Detroit as a writer and producer with Barbara Lewis, before signing in his own right to Epic, via the Rags label run by legendary producer Jerry Ragovoy. Hereafter he was briefly a member of The Fifth Dimension.
One of the greatest of all modern soul albums.

A gorgeous reissue of his first LP, from 1957; with Curtis Fuller, Hugh Lawson, Ernie Farrow, Louis Hayes, and Doug Watkins. Beefy, alive, and exploratory, with Lateef’s Eastern trajectory flagged already, in the thrilling argol introduction to the opener, Metaphor. On the flip, Morning is ravishing, unmissable Lateef.

In its full-length glory, from the great man’s 1980 LP Journey To The One; plus his version of the Marvin Gaye classic, from his 1978 LP Love Will Find A Way, with Norman Connors.
Both recordings luxuriating on 12” for the first time.

‘Classic Vinyl Series.’

Scorcher!
Just cop the opener. Such a knockout!
Six Horace Tapscott compositions and arrangements. Swirling, passionate, raging, valedictory, richly allusive music.
Teddy Edwards is here; Tommy Flanagan. Criss is on fire.
Hotly recommended. Something really special.

Of all his albums, this was Stan Getz’ favourite. Ours, too.
Freed from the formal orthodoxies of small-group bebop, and revelling in the freedoms opened up by Eddie Sauter’s thrilling strings-based arrangements, lyrical improvisation pours out of the saxophonist (with Lester Young coursing through as per). The music shimmies devil-may-care through jazz, classical, soundtrack, show-tune, and the rest.
Try the dazzling opener. A theme from Béla Bartók’s Music for Strings, Percussion and Celesta is mashed into skittering, paranoid funk, with a killer spot for Roy Haynes. And next up, something quite different, a quiet, complexly tender tribute to Getz’s mum, exquisitely proffered. Just a shame Bill Evans wasn’t sitting in.
Original, knockout; very warmly recommended.

Brassy, infectious Afro-Amerindian cumbia, porro, gaita, and mapalé from Colombia’s Caribbean coast, which injected a modern, jazzy, big-band sound into regional Afro-Colombian traditions, and took the country by storm.
The Orquesta Del Caribe, recorded in Medellin, 1946-1961: a legs-eleven blaring trumpets, soaring saxophones, meandering clarinets, rattling and pounding percussion, plus singer Matilde Diaz, led by the maestro Bermudez, widely considered Colombia’s most influential composer of all time.