First time out for this wildly raw dubplate, sister-recording to the Pablo master-rhythm, shot through with other-worldly incantation.
Surely that’s Family Man stalking a sunken cavern, and his bro battering all seven shades out of his drum-kit, like Meters on fire; and Chinna on guitar, glazed and violent. The mixing rears up right in your face.
Producer Gussie Clarke says Theophilus ‘Easy Snappin’ Beckford is playing piano, with the front removed so he can strum the strings (like he finally snapped) — but he credits the work overall to Augustus Pablo.
Transferred from acetate — fuss-pots don’t grumble, just be humble — though the flip brings a clutch of criss, unmissable alternates, direct from Gussie’s tape-room (where the files are entitled ‘Classical Illusion / The Sun’).
Heavy, heavy funk. Simplicity People dug in. Stunning.

Last few.

Big Hands re-united with trumpeter Abraham Parker.
Trialled triumphantly in recent live shows, the opener comes good on the promise of the duo’s triumphant debut for Trule: gliding, hypnotic, and moody, with rueful, burnished brass interjections riding dubwise steppers.
Then a pair of distressed, halftempo d&b rhythms: a call to arms, and a troubled circling of the wagons. Waltz For Matis winds up proceedings with a deep, spooked Fourth World excursion, with skittering marimba.
Another ace EP.

Live, organic, cosmic house from the master for the fiftieth SS. Slow-burning electro-boogie — synths over a clicking, swaying, volatile beat — and a more uptempo jazz trip, with dusty, wacked-out breaks.

Pure worries from the Harnessed The Storm album, plus three tracks missing from the vinyl version, including the deadly Aquatic Cataclysm.

Four experiments in Pisan beat science — fleet and swirling at the limits of its dancefloor idioms, but faultlessly grooving with the hypnotic charge of classic techno, and flashing a precious combination of exquisite, confident melodicism and ruthless intensity.
Beautifully presented in stickered yellow sleeves with PVC covers, inserts and stamped inners.

Zarko Komar aka Feloneezy winging in from Belgrade — by way of Hyperdub — with an EP of hypnotic psychedelia.
Four characteristically intimate, steppers blends of jungle and juke, unfurling into intervals of dub and jazz; axis as nexus, threaded with field recordings, startlingly dotted with song.
Check it out.

Luigi Pirandello provides the conceit for the tenth Baroque Sunburst: his thinking about masks, duplicity, and ensnarement; the idea that ‘self’ and ‘identity’ are unattainable plenitudes; that we are all trapped behind masks and other concealments.
Hence each of the four tracks is designed for playback at either 33 or 45 rpm. Maschera itself is a half-time stomper with the slithering grace of a snake, intricate IDM refrains, and riddling drum patterns. Trappola is melodic hide-and-seek, with a stately, captivating tribal rhythm which slowly gathers intensity. The snake returns in Specchio, biting its own tail in an endless birth-death infinity mirror… before KRSLD brings the curtain down with a dubwise, dancehall rework of the opener, teasing the snake into the open. Or does it?

‘A hard-grooving, vividly evocative EP, deeply rooted in nineties drum & bass, by this Milan-based, Brazilian producer.
‘The original mix of Dynamo rotates its vast spinning coil through a landscape of cavernous basslines and spectral vocals; then Etch fires up a full jungle do-over.
‘Breath - Dance enacts and probes a psycho-physical push-and-pull, alternating caustic breaks with ambient introspection.’

A stirring, percussive four-tracker. Wintry and submersible; smudged with mist, then silvered and clear as a bell, by turns. Bitten Dream is dark, atmospheric, hypnotic; Via Tekh summons vintage Objekt; Shrine despatches twisted 8-bit granularity into early Livity Sound and Carrier territory; lulling, ambient Catharsis lets go.

A mouth-watering collaboration; plus flips from Al Wootton and Ottomani Parker.
‘The opener Last Breath is a late-hour pelter: relentlessly moody and hypnotic, with heaving sub-bass pulses. Tunnel Drift switches lanes with its distinctive tech-stepping 90’s throwback style; a forward-thinking take on a nostalgic sound.
‘Al Wootton’s contribution is characteristically fresh and inventive dubbed-out house, with his signature layering of atmospheric textures, and a deep and groovy bassline.
‘After a blissful opening, the Ottomani Parker excursion overlays driving percussion with horns, keys and live hand-drumming; an uplifting finale.’

Stupendous rendition of a Chinese folk song over red-hot rocksteady, produced by Ronnie Narsalla in 1967. Aimed at the Chinese community in Kingston; super-rare ever since.
Pure worries. The guaranteed musical detonation of any kind of dance or party.
Cheng, evidently, not Chang. Essential reading, here.

A stunning complement to Theme De Yoyo!
Panou was an activist and actor, in Paris from Benin; he plays a refuse collector in Jean-Luc Godard’s Weekend. His texts here cross existentialism and Black Power like a knockabout Richard Wright, with an extra shot of anti-colonialism. Recorded by Pierre Barouh for Saravah, in the same months as its classic Comme A La Radio LP with Brigitte Fontaine, furthering the AEC’s rowdily brilliant elaborations of Leroy Jones’ Black Dada Nihilismus.
It’s a scorcher; hotly recommended.

Lovely harmonising by Devon Russell, Prince Lincoln Thompson, Cedric Myton and Lindburgh Lewis, over a chunky rocksteady rhythm. Plus a sweetly imploring Tommy McCook instrumental on the flip, with deft guitar-work by Hux Brown, and a gently rocking brass section.

In 1961 Sun Ra took off from Chicago – where he had established the Arkestra, his dedicated ensemble and the vehicle for his mission to better the planet – and with a scaled-down version of the band he landed in NewYork. Their first recording session was in Newark in October of that year. The Futuristic Sounds Of Sun Ra, recorded for the Savoy label, is a beautiful document of the material they’d honed during a long residency at the Wonder Inn at the end of the Chicago period. Among tracks left in the vault from that day in the studio were these two great ballads sung by Ricky Murray, both of them redolent of the bright popcraft that had long been part of Ra’s repertoire, with classic Afrofuturist themes of navigating outer space and altered destiny cloaked in sweet songs with tart arrangements.
“Marshall Allen especially liked playing I Struck A Match On The Moon,” recalls Ricky, “because he got a chance to light up a cigarette while we were singing.”

Hippie dippy Indo-Jazz, aka Take Off Your Clothes To Feel The Setting Sun, complete with fuzz guitar and sitar courtesy of Siegfried ‘Vampyros Lesbos’ Schwab, and reverbed chant-along vocal chorus. Plus a reined-in, blues-rock cover of The Beatles’ A Day In The Life.
From 1969, with Eberhard Weber playing bass and electric cello.
New transfers from the master tapes; cut at Abbey Road; pressed at Pallas; handsomely sleeved.