At Hibiya Public Hall on January 14, 1961, with Lee Morgan, Wayne Shorter, Bobby Timmons, and Jymie Merritt, during the Mesengers’ first-ever tour of Japan.
Jet-propelled, soaring performances of jazz staples including Bird’s Now’s the Time and Monk’s Round About Midnight, and Messenger bangers like Blues March, Dat Dere, and Moanin’.
Elaborate booklets feature rare photos by Japanese photographers Shunji Okura and Hozumi Nakadaira; an essay by Bob Blumenthal; plus new interviews with Wayne Shorter in conversation with Blue Note president Don Was, celebrated saxophonist Lou Donaldson, Japanese jazz star Sadao Watanabe, renowned Japanese music critic Reiko Yukawa, Blakey’s son Takashi Blakey, and a trio of drum greats in Louis Hayes, Billy Hart, and Cindy Blackman Santana. Audio was newly transferred from the original ¼” tape reels, and the vinyl edition was mastered by Bernie Grundman and pressed on 180g vinyl at RTI.
With Lee Morgan, Curtis Fuller, Victor Sproles, John Hicks, and John Gilmore.
‘It’s a shame that this was the only recording by this particular lineup of the Jazz Messengers, as Gilmore’s strong blowing complements Morgan very well (AllMusic).
Mathew Jonson’s improvisatory group with Danuel and Tyger Dhula.
It was intended that one of Hudson’s teenage sons would voice the dubs. In the event the Love Joys, Wayne Jarrett, and most inimitably Hudson himself featured at the microphone. Like Wackies, Hudson was a Studio One devotee — ‘I used to hold Don Drummond’s trombone for him so I can be in the studio’ — and the album follows Coxsone’s recent strategy of overdubbing signature rhythms.
The Studio One sides were aimed at the dancefloor; Hudson’s reworks of tracks like Melody Maker are more psychological. Heavy Barrett Brothers rhythms are pitched down and remixed deeper still with reverb, filters and other distortion, and overlaid with new recordings of guitar, percussion, keyboard, voice, often crazily treated.
Originally released in 1981 on the Joint International label, in NYC.
Legendary, strange, compelling music.
Deep and intense, with Augustus Pablo and the Barrett Bros on call, god-like Tubbys mixing, canonical rhythms, Big Youth and Horace Andy in the mix. One of the top five dub albums of all time. Fifty years old!
Tremendous, tormented, abject vocal to Melody Maker, with a heavy dub — for the label Hudson co-ran with Gleaner journalist Balford Henry.
Via the safe hands of Dub Store in Tokyo.
Scorcher. One megaton of Hudson dread; pure reggae noir.
The mix is quite different to Flesh Of My Skin.
Definitively presented at last (after some dire bootlegs), by Dub Store in Tokyo.
Two magnificent, seething sides of rawly militant witness by the Black Morphologist of Dub.
Nuh Skin Up sets his livid, reeling reasoning to a churning, hypnotic Soul Syndicate rhythm, teeming with star-wars bleeps and lasers, and sick, parping synths.
‘The memories of some bad things will never erase… We’re angry. You make us angry.’
Felt We Felt The Strain picks up the pace with no alleviation of hurt and fury. It’s a dubwise steppers, sharpened by Chinna’s guitar, with unheimlich organ; haunted throughout by a kind of swirling white noise in the background, like a tornado of tortured souls.
Long-term Shaka staples in these extended mixes.
Utterly singular, compelling and unmissable; more timely than ever.
‘Nuh skin up’; ‘be serious’.
The dub counterpart to his From One Extreme To The Other album.
Tormented, darkly mystical, and unmissable.
Belting space-techno steppers.