Tough, dismissive, soundboy digi. A King Tubby dubplate from 1986.

Irresistible reggaeficatory bazookaings of Manu Dibango’s Soul Makossa, upping the old-school funk, and garbling extra mamas.

Carlton Barrett at the Black Ark in 1975, on a spare Upsetters rhythm, with Pablo playing clavinet. Lovely stuff.

Riveting roots harmony reasoning over a spare, brooding dub, produced by Sly & Robbie at Channel One in the early 80s, and previously only released on dubplate.
A must.

No less than an alternate take of the almighty rocksteady classic from 1968. Backed with a Tommy McCook instrumental featuring organist Winston Wright.

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.

Killer.
Typically masterful, ultra-soulful singing, over a sparkling rhythm. It’s the last gasp of the swinging sixties; geezer is hurt but randy. His missus has scarpered, so the coast is clear for some of this in-ting debauchery he’s been reading about in the papers.
With a trombone-led moonstomp on the flip.
This first hit for Keith Hudson’s new label is a stone-cold re-wind in perpetuity. So play it back, Jack. Hook back on the track with a double attack.

Two fine sides of expert, Curtis-inflected soul-reggae.

This classy lovers was Sharon’s breakthrough, fronting the Now Generation band for Geoffrey Chung in 1973, in an achingly regretful Armstead / Ashford / Simpson song about female disillusionment (laid waste by Cilla Black the previous year).

Two excellent, righteous vocal cuts to a tough, downtempo, rootical rhythm, in a brief respite from dancehall at Tubby’s HQ.
Latest in Dub Store’s lip-smacking series of Firehouse dub plates.

Classy, proto-lovers, full-scale do-over of the Robert John 45 still big in Northern Soul circles.
The original arranger, none other than Gene Page gets a run for his money in the typically sophisticated instrumental version by Geoffrey Chung and the In Crowd.

Gripping, up-in-your-face account of the story of Judas. Full-on Keith Hudson roots.
And an unmissable nugget of flute-led JA funk, by the Soul Syndicate, on the flip.

Typically fine singing, over crisp, bare Tubbys digi, with strong backing vocals on both sides.
Hey Mr. Cop is a draft of the song he recorded for Bunny Lee, over Rumours; the flip does over his Jammys smash.
Dubplate action.

Hard to resist Junior Murvin in this teasing, saucy mood, on a lovely nyabinghi rocksteady rhythm.
With an alternate take.

Agony aunts Clifford Morrison and Dada Smith from The Bassies, with George Blake replacing Leroy Fischer, in 1969. Cornerstone moonstompers, both sides.

Legendary Northern — the last record played at the Wigan Casino — this archetypal heart-on-sleeve stomper was originally pressed in 1965 by Motown as a handful of promotional copies on its imprint SOUL. Most of these were destroyed soon afterwards, though people say Berry Gordy has a copy, and another was sold in 2009 for just over twenty-five grand.

Young bros Glen, Dalton, Noel, Cleveland and Danny, irresistibly doing over MJ for Geoffrey Chung. ‘She makes my motor purr.’

Out-of-this-world toasting, the absolute bees knees, over Old Fashioned Way; and a stupendous piece of Skatalites, way from creation. Swing baby swing and do your own thing. Uptight and rocking out of sight.
Bims almighty.

Monumental Tubbys digi terror. Tougher than Lee Van Cleef. Heavier than lead and cold as ice.

Gorgeous singing by Carlton (from Carlton & The Shoes and The Abyssinians), with tasty nyabinghi drumming in the accompaniment.
“I was writing songs but I didn’t record until 1968. I did one song for Lee Scratch Perry. He gave me £5 and then I didn’t hear anything more about it. Then I went down to Mrs Pottinger, did one song for her named Live and Love on the Gay Feet label. It was played on the radio for a couple of days and it wasn’t going anywhere really because she had some good artists down there at the time and they did some songs that were doing well, so my song wasn’t getting much promotion and it wasn’t being played. I think I heard it twice on the radio and then I didn’t hear it anymore.”

Pure loveliness, deep and stately.
Plus Patsy dishing it straight back to Johnnie Taylor on the flip, with a reworking of Blues In The Night.