Ace, loose, mystical roots, with slacky-tidy guitar, and Jarrett pouring himself into the mic. Plus a thumping dub led by saxophonist Jerry Johnson.

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.

Super-tough, odd, scrubby sufferers with some terrific, knackered piano and quaintly acquiescent lyrics. Giddily cavernous dub. Killer Wackies.