Exhilarating reggae music from Stoke Newington, north east London, made by soundboys on a Casio and a drum machine, in a room over Eddie Regal’s record shop.

Rough, tough, searing steppers from the Meditation, with a killer-diller Dillinger, produced by Isha Morrison — Mrs Lee Perry — and originally out on Orchid.

From 1983, the same year as Jamming In The Street, his unmissable collaboration with Sugar Minott. Kicks off with a Queen Of The Minstrel excursion. Drifter is here, Late Night Blues, No More Will I Roam, Yo Yo, Real Rock. Sly & Robbie with the Aggrovators; Bunny Lee at the controls. Full-strength, body-rocking, early-eighties deejaying. It’s obvious why sounds like Black Scorpio and Kilimanjaro favoured him.

The debut LP of David Jahson and Jerry Baxter, from 1978 (featuring the classic, parping Black On Black, from four years earlier).
The CD adds the Love Train album.

Two cuts from the LP High Times Present New Talents Ghetto Youths Showdown.
The MW is killer roots, not to be missed. You can hear Scientist in the dubwise mix.
With Clive ‘From Creation’ Hylton, on the flip.

Recording at King Jammy’s and Channel One in the late 80s, with Junior Delgado at the controls, Mice let off a series of records amongst the very deadliest of digital reggae.

These are the blistering dubs to the companion album, many of them previously unreleased.

Paul Whiteman aka Paul Blackman with a self-doubting, heartfelt lover’s lament, with moody, Sounds From The East backing vocals, over a deadly rhythm. Correctly matched with its masterful dub, too; subtler and gentler than the Tubby’s excursion on Meets Rockers Uptown.

A bit Whitey Mice, over a wicked mid-nineties Steely & Clevie.

Bunny Lee Boss Sounds, 1969-70. Musical aggro from hornsmen Roland Alphonso, Tommy McCook, Lester Sterling and co, plus foundational deejaying by D Tony Lee, U Roy, and Jeff Barnes, and nuff organ. Sleeve notes by Noel Hawks.

Tough mid-seventies steppers from the US, in tow to Johnny Clarke. A one-away for Bev; nothing to do with Jah Shaka (except he’d run it).
Rough dub, too.

Ace vocal excursion on Augustus Pablo’s monumental 555 Crown Street rhythm, from 1979.
Notwithstanding his unforgettable Fuckerys A Gwaan, that’s gotta be Jah Bull’s finest moment, on the flip.

The Afrotone’s beautiful, sad excoriation of war, militarism and stock notions of military heroism.
Scars of war? Me no want.
Originally out in 1983 on Vin Hur. With the High Times Players.