Clifton Gibbs was in the Selected Few, who cut the all-time-classic Selection Train for the Studio One imprint Money Disc. Under his own name, he recorded Brimstone & Fire, another deadly 45 for Coxsone, originally out on Bongo Man. (Chase down the old Heartbeat CD entitled Soul Defenders At Studio One for more of the Clifton Gibbs story.)
From the precious handful of his complete recordings, here’s another scorcher. Emergency roots reasoning, over a chunky rhythm, with expressive backing vocals in Selected Few style. Sounds like Soul Defenders in the house, with some tasty trombone interjections by Vin Morgan, maybe. Vivid shades of Tubby in the expert, stern dub.
Crucial bunny.

Tough roots, produced by Rod Taylor.

Searing, unmissable cover of canuck rockers The Guess Who, by way of Junior Walker.
B-Boy’s gonna choke on his herbal vape when he cops that break.
‘These eyes… crying every night… for you.’

Biff, baff, boof.
Two hunks of deep Wackies roots; and an amazing, previously unreleased coup de grace.
First off, a haunting, dazed, raving account of being kicked out of a squat; with heavy bass, killer organ, sublime backing vocals, and a hurting, searing Stranger Cole. ‘We’ve got to find a better place.’
Then a tough instrumental outing on the same deadly, signature Wackies rhythm as Clive Hunt’s Black Rose, by Wanachi.
And on the flip: stark, visionary, semi-acoustic primitivism, from the same drama school as early Ras Michael & The Sons of Negus.
Unmissable Wackies.

Aka Clive Hylton, alongside Russ D from The Disciples.
Shaka business, also much favoured by Aba Shanti.

Sweet rocksteady lovers, rather impassively worried about being apart for a while; plus the Supersonics’ slinky, tiptoe classic Our Man Flint (nodding to James Coburn’s piss-take of 007, just then arriving in Kingston cinemas).

The drummer of the Gladiators Band and the Upsetters, recording with his own Solid Foundation Band at the Black Ark in the down-time of a Junior Byles’ session. A rework of The Animals’ version of an English folk song, with a leg-up from Byles’ own A Place Called Africa. Originally released on Sight’N'Sound, by Studio One.
Lovely, mystical roots, with an ace dub, touched with unmistakable Perry genius.

Tearaway sufferers anthem, roaring out of the blocks in 1989. Piercing, unforgettable song-writing by the Tetrack spar — jam-packed with anecdote, observation and warning — over a sick, breakneck, apocalyptic rhythm, with an ace dub. A digi classic.

Ace, lonesome digi from 1988, indebted to Tenor Saw, with Johnny Osbourne’s Can’t Buy Love submerged in its DNA. Crisp, driving dub.
Surely ‘Culture P’ would have been a better idea.