Agony aunts Clifford Morrison and Dada Smith from The Bassies, with George Blake replacing Leroy Fischer, in 1969. Cornerstone moonstompers, both sides.

Magnificent, militant roots with the heart of a lion. Bunny’s greatest record under his own name, much superior to the version on the Liberation LP, this was originally released as a UK disco 45 in the early eighties.

Heavyweight, apocalyptic Bunny, with a burial b-line, burning horns, masterful dub. By a mile the best thing on Blackheart Man.

One of the very greatest reggae LPs of all time. Sublime singing; deep, passionate song-writing; tough-nut Radics; Junjo and Scientist at the desk. Packed with killers. Utterly essential.

Love Punaany Bad — a tale of hard times in New York City, with a nice steelpan sample; and a badman Admiral Bailey.

Ferociously magnificent, utterly crucial collection of his late-seventies singles, chanting it down like a more blood-and-fire, non-bucolic Burning Spear. Produced by Glen Brown, mixed by King Tubby. Towering roots reggae, inspired through and through, from start to finish; hotly recommended.

Two no-flim-flam, cross-border, dub-wise stompers — paired with masterful versions — from the veteran, Kingston-based unit led by the trombonist of Count Ossie’s Mystic Revelation Of Rastafari and The Light Of Saba.

Full, bone-heavy horns, swirling organ and rocking nyabinghi drumming; and with a storming dub.

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.