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.’