Rocksteady murder, both sides.
Val Bennett wails over a brilliantly percussive, troubled, fresh rhythm, with descending, prowling bass; Roy Man leads the heart-broken flip, with piano riding east, and rocking horns.
From the master tapes. It’s a must.

Over several years, Far East Records in Japan has faultlessly reissued more than fifty classic Treasure Isle sevens. Expert selections; impeccably restored labels, beautifully colour-matched, often using metallic inks; and great sound.
Over & Done With is out here for the first time, and it’s murder. Riding a banging bottom-end, with thunderous drum rolls, and magnificent horns with superb soloing, Monty coolly lays out his dignified, devastating dissection of a break-up, with the cutting, expository verve of prime Lord Kitchener.
‘When you came to my rescue, I gave all that I could give. Now that your purse is empty, you’ve left me the same way you came. Loving you is useless, you’re a waste of time, you’ve got no love, no sympathy on your mind… My darling, it’s over and done with.’
Baba Brooks leads the way on the flip, which sounds a lot better here than the original pressing. Killer, tear-up ska.

Powerful, fierce free improvisation, crossed with avant-rock, bringing together Steve Noble, John Edwards and Alex Ward. A numbered edition of three hundred, on heavy vinyl, with thick, hand-assembled covers.

‘An album of cathartic intimacy, built around electronic textures and sparse percussion, with White’s gently yielding, half-spoken vocals pitched pleasingly between Laurie Anderson and Joni Mitchell’ (Mojo).

With Herbie, Mobley and co — and an eight-person gospel choir — in 1963.
The stand-out is a version of Duke Pearson’s Cristo Redentor. A fail-safe at funerals.
‘Classic Vinyl Series.’

Hard bop from 1961: a quintet including Marcus ‘Gemini’ Belgrave, Ronnie ‘Doin The Thang’ Mathews, and Gene Hunt, from Horace Silver’s band.

Charged garage-rock from Vancouver, BC, Canada, 1970. Championed by the innumerate Enjoy The Experience: ‘Amongst my favorites, the sincerity and verve in the performances remain fresh to the ear and heart thirty years later.’

An anti-war collage of words and sounds from August 6, 1966, including contributions from a plastic clock-radio, The Velvet Underground, Gerard Malanga, Marion Brown, Allen Ginsberg, Ishmael Reed, Andy Warhol (standing around silently) and Ed Sanders.

The king of acid-fuzz guitar presents a barbed bouquet of classic psych covers — The Stooges, Hendrix, Pink Floyd, MC5, Jefferson Airplane and co — with killer, piercing fuzz-wah guitar and bizarre software-generated vocals. ‘One of the finest acid-punk shredders to ever walk the planet, Munehiro Narita gives these time-honored psych rock classics a serious kick in the ass, in the most bizarre and Japanese of musical settings’ (Steve Krakow, Galactic Zoo). ‘Munehiro Narita (High Rise et al) bleeds all over a series of massively re-wired cover versions of classic psych while computer generated little girl vocals relocate the whole damn thing in another future altogether’ (David Keenan).

Excellent compilation of country blues, 1933-39.
Bo Carter, Scrapper Blackwell, Walter Davis, Black Ace… and less well-known names, like Peanut The Kidnapper and One Arm Slim.
‘One Arm Slim’s piano is rather erratic due to the fact that he is probably using only one hand,’ according to the sleevenotes.

Thirty-four verses of expanded duets, the prototype of Delusion Of The Fury, thrashed out with the Gate 5 Ensemble over a three year period starting late in 1962, in a too-small space within an abandoned chick hatchery in Petaluma, California.
Plus a section of a rehearsal session, with HP himself giving direction, ending with a fine performance by Danlee Mitchell and Michael Ranta.
And finally a previously unreleased recording of Partch playing Adapted Viola, in one of the Verse 17 duets excised from the final opus.

“360 degrees of freedom is overwhelming in music, and you need not truly begin to find freedom until you put yourself under extremely narrow constraints.”
‘Slepian’s work draws equally from the harmonic terrain he explored while performing with a Javanese gamelan ensemble, as well as time spent building and modifying electronic audio equipment for studios and fellow musicians. Gravitating towards improvisation and experimentation, he built a breathtaking sound-world that stretched the briefest of moments into an eternity of detail and depth.’
In 1980, Slepian consolidated his vision with a series of cassette albums. His ‘New Music For Digital Orchestra’ was actually performed by instruments, tools and recording techniques which are entirely analogue, and captured live with no overdubs.

‘A re-imagining.’