In his dazzling, rubadub flow, with intricate rhyming, lavish word-play and off-the-wall allusiveness, his genial socialism and jubilant, green-fingered vegetarianism, his knockabout sense of humour and all-round irrepressible good vibes, Ranger is the peerless heir to U-Roy and Dennis Alcapone… and the most diplomatic of envoys for the new dancehall styles just around the corner. He’s undervalued because of a perceived lack of gravitas, but he’s one of the all-time great deejays, and this is his best work.
Have a listen to the musical shock attack Automatic: over Take A Ride, no less, he bundles the Last Poets into a breakneck stream of consciousness, with walk-ons for Marcus Garvey, Bag O Wire, and Garvey’s secretary Mother Muschett; Dovecot Memorial Park and Madison Square; a bad boy who doesn’t know Ranger’s dad is a cop; succinct advice like ‘natty don’t play card inna Babylon yard’; a big baboon in the light of the moon, a broken chair, a felt hat, an anchor you can’t conchor…
“Everybody was wondering why I sounded different. And the reason I sounded different was through I did grow in England and I have the English accent and when I speak you can hear every word I am saying clearly. It was a plus for me. And then through I liked to write poetry and write songs, you know I’m a writer, I stick to the topic from start to finish.”
And the musical rhythms are a preposterous fish-tea tidal wave of Studio One classics (plus a Shank I Sheck): Take A Ride/Truths & Rights, Real Rock/Armageddon Time, One Step Beyond, Hot Milk, Throw Me Corn, Never Let Go, Full Up, Please Be True, Things A Come Up To Bump.

So let the good time roll, with Sir Coxsone at the control. When Ranger talk, the dance it have fe cork.
Deliriously enjoyable. Terrific cover art, too.
Very highly recommended. Five ribbits, five bims, five flash-its, five oinks.

The original Randy’s version is a desert island disc — and nearly twenty years later this a magnificent do-over by way of the Black Ark, originally released by Tony Owens’ Seven Leaves, in Kensal Rise.

Recorded after eighteen months in prison for possession of a little cannabis, here is the definitive cut of the knockout song Creator revisited for the Upsetter.
Profound, stoic reasoning on a tough rhythm, with the wings of a dove. Wailing backing vocals, blurts of organ, burning horns; singing schooled by Bing Crosby and Nat King Cole.
On the flip, Come Down 68 puts us back behind behind bars, at year-end, looking forward to getting out. ‘Come down, evening, come down, night. Let me see that morning light.’

The Love Joys’ first album, initially released in 1981 on the Florida-based Top Ranking label. Ten tunes produced and recorded at Wackies NY, ranging from lovers rock and uptempo dance vibes to roots and reality.

Tough, red-eyed roots, recorded at Wackies with strong Upsetters flavouring.
The dub is minimal, rough and in-your-face… for playing loud.

1990 digi killer by Leicester’s finest, originally out on the Japanese Tachyon label run by Bullwackies cohort Sonny Ochiai. Classic.

The first disc contains his 1982 LP — irresistible early dancehall — plus contemporaneous twelves sparring with the likes of Cornell Campbell and Barrington Levy. The second rounds up some Joe Gibbs heavy-hitters by other deejays and singers, from the same period.

Ace.
Chugging, confessional, Chicagoan loveliness from Delroy Williams, Ricky Grant and George Allison.
‘I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker, And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, And in short, I was afraid.’