Black Ark magic. Al Campbell steps up with teacherly scorn, as clear as a bell.

It is, too.
The great Chicagoan soul singer in full effect over two decades.

The first in forty-seven years from this veteran American Primitive. Witty, stark, smouldering guitarism, as ever.

Gospel house the Detroit way. Plus a tough techno-jazz bubbler, and Billy Love in soulful ecstasy, school of Marvin Gaye.

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.

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.’

A close collaborator and friend of The Beach Boys, his was the first issue by their Brother Records imprint. This was cut at Brian Wilson’s house in 1969 and thought to have been lost.