The long awaited follow-up to the superb compilation Loving On The Flipside, from ten years ago.
‘Contained within this anthology are some of the greatest soul ballads that go sweet with a beat. Most of these songs have never been compiled. Some have never been issued in any form. Some, like the Ledgends entry here, have been sampled to great success (in that case for Freddie Gibbs and Madlib’s Deeper). Some haven’t been sampled, but, like Herb Johnson’s entry, are patiently awaiting their day.’

Electrifying extracts from a Sunday service in the last snake-handling church in the Appalachians: the trance-like rhythms of a demented kind of rockabilly punk, with duelling guitars, concussive trap drums, and possessed, howling vocals.

“I’d sworn to stay far away from the snakes at the service,” recalls the recording engineer, “but instead they were waved in my face as they coiled in the preachers’ hands, and I crouched down at the foot of the altar tending to the equipment. The pastor soon was bitten and blood splattered, pooling on the floor. The female parishioners hurriedly came to wipe up the mess, and it instantly became clear just what the rolls of paper towels stacked on the pulpit had been for. You can actually hear this moment transpire towards the end of the track ‘Don’t Worry It’s Just a Snakebite (What Has Happened to This Generation?)’. The congregation leapt to its feet and a mini mosh-pit formed. The tag-team preachers huffed handkerchiefs soaked in strychnine, as they circled like aggro frontmen and an elderly worshipper held the flame of a candle to her throat, closing her eyes and swaying. The church PA blew out from the screams as a bonnet-wearing senior whacked away at a trap kit that dwarfed her. It was the most metal thing I’d ever seen, rendering Slayer mere kids play.”

Only our favourite UK reggae LP of all time.
Uneasy, twisted, mysterious, deep dub music; utterly enthralling. Commercially speaking, couldn’t-give-a-fuck.
It’s like London calling the Upsetter and the Dark Prince in 1975-76, encircled by the National Front.
The story goes that the group dished out free copies — fresh from the pressing plant — at the Notting Hill Carnival in 1976 (before the rioting kicked off).

‘Bottling the raw energy of the scene in the 80s and early ‘90s; featuring its young stars Cheb Zahouani, Chaba Zohra and Abderrahmane Djalti. Newly remastered and including liner notes from Raï authority Rabah Mezouane, this compilation brings together eight cassette tracks from the electrifying period when Raï was evolving from more traditional sounds into mesmerising electro funk.’

Recorded by Jean Michel Jarre in 1972, during his work experience at G.R.M. (Groupe de Recherches Musicales), for a commission to provide sound for public spaces like airports and libraries. Fifteen tracks made with only two synthesizers (EMS VCS3 & Farfisa organ) in an experimental and very minimal style.
‘It was a crazy album, totally homemade, with rhythms that I made in my student room, with a minimum of equipment and at the same time electronic sounds that I stole from the GRM where I went at night after stealing the keys to the studios. It is a pirate record, in every sense of the word, in which we find what I did afterwards.’

Neil Ardley, Jack Bruce, Jon Hiseman, Dave Gelly, Jim Philip, Dick Heckstall-Smith, Barbara Thompson, Derek Wadsworth, John Mumford, Michael Gibbs, Tony Russell, Derek Watkins, Harry Beckett, Henry Lowther, Ian Carr, George Smith, Frank Ricotti…
‘The range, invention and depth evident on Le Dejeuner Sur L’Herbe outstrips most large ensemble jazz albums of the time; at times muscular and powerful, at others delicate and sensitive, the interplay of the musicians, arrangements and compositions make for a stand-out recording that bristles with confidence and energy.’