Previously on dubplate only, this legendary UK soundsystem weapon was produced by Sly And Robbie at Maxfield Avenue in the early eighties, with (perhaps) the Mighty Travellers at the microphone. Chasmic, head-spinning. Pure murder.

A Bullwackies masterpiece — spooked, reeling roots, saturated in hurt, confusion, and resistance, with a knockout Baba Leslie-led dub.

Heavy, chilling Channel One.
Horace is in deep; jittery and urgent. Sly is surgically trigger-happy.
Killer.

Ducking and diving between London and Kingston JA, Winston Edwards cut the Melodian on the monumental Conquering Lion rhythm in the mid-70s. It’s an Eddie Floyd cover. Dark, pained, self-disgusted… bad tune.

B/w Black Uhuru, Sun Is Shining.

No surprise that JC does the absolute business over this scorching do-over of Winston Riley’s Nothing Is Impossible rhythm (as nailed originally by the Interns / Viceroys).

Spine-tinglingly yearning, yet dignified, rootical rocksteady classic — one of Phil Pratt’s top tunes, limpidly delivered by Lynn Taitt — with an ace Tommy McCook version.

‘Previously unreleased recordings made over several nights of the Wailers’ West London residency in June 1976, during their Rastaman Vibration tour. Highlights include a transcendent version of Roots, Rock, Reggae, a rarely-performed Bend Down Low, an extended version of Crazy Baldhead, and a thirty-minute encore that incorporates a twelve-minute Get Up, Stand Up.’

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.

Dead moody Lovers. A worrisomely loose, rumbling, mid-eighties Channel One rhythm, seamed with a squashed steel-drum sample, unfurled like spells.
‘Everything will be alright,’ sings Hopeton about his prospective date, but it doesn’t sound like it.