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.

Sugar’s debut LP, from 1978: inspired, crafted voicings of all-time classic S1 rhythms, banger after banger, insouciantly announcing the rebirth of the greatest reggae label of all time, with vibes and panache to the max.
Hotly recommended. Crucial Studio One.

‘Coxsone Boy’ showed Mr. Dodd how to lick over Studio One’s vast armament of foundational rhythms for the dancehall era to come (and claim them back from Channel One). He knew them all backwards from singing over them on his sound.
Killer selection.

An excellent introduction — a tip-top, well-paced selection ranging across styles and vintages, with some marvellous photographs of the great man at Kingston airport, Canada-bound.

The absolute bee’s knees in chilled, atmospheric, vibesing reggae.
From the elusive 1980 Studio One LP Showcase, like the terrific flip ‘Oboe’ (presumably a spliffed-up ‘Obeah’).
Beautifully limber, expansive production-work, dubwise from the off, featuring ace percussion, scrubby guitar by Eric Frater, and Mittoo zoning clean out.
Released on its Jack Jones for the first time, and sounding predictably deadly on 12”, though you’ll wish it ran for miles.
Total one-of-a-kind murder.

Stone cold murder. Archetypal, slow-mo, eastern-sounds post-ska from Jackie Mittoo, Dizzy Moore, Roland Alphonso and co, around 1965.

A masterful, sublime cover of the Young Holt by the newly-formed Sound Dimension; backed with Roy Richards’ classic harmonica version of Summertime.

An uncompromisingly deep, rugged, rootical collection of dubs and instrumentals; funky to the max.
A terrific compilation. It’s a must.

No particular theme this time around… except scorchers only admitted.
A fresh, personal selection, stuffed with bangers and welcome strays and surprises; like getting a killer mix-tape from an old friend.
Jazzbo riding a vicious mix of Sidewalk Doctor, for example, and Spear’s majestic Door Peep Shall Not Enter… Wiggle’s Diggles by Noel Bailey the Hippy Boy… two sublime Sugars…
The broom to sweep the room!