Clifton Gibbs was in the Selected Few, who cut the all-time-classic Selection Train for the Studio One imprint Money Disc. Under his own name, he recorded Brimstone & Fire, another deadly 45 for Coxsone, originally out on Bongo Man. (Chase down the old Heartbeat CD entitled Soul Defenders At Studio One for more of the Clifton Gibbs story.)
From the precious handful of his complete recordings, here’s another scorcher. Emergency roots reasoning, over a chunky rhythm, with expressive backing vocals in Selected Few style. Sounds like Soul Defenders in the house, with some tasty trombone interjections by Vin Morgan, maybe. Vivid shades of Tubby in the expert, stern dub.
Crucial bunny.

Don’t miss the rocking steady Bacharach & David on the flip.

A sultry version of the Gershwin / Heyward aria, more body-rocking than spiritual, led by an identified singer. and swinging horns; and a rollicking Take The A Train, with solos by Roland Alphonso, Lester Sterling and Don Drummond.
Class.

Characteristically bootin’, irresistible version of Huey Smith’s millions-selling New Orleans R&B smash. (What a monster 45 that was, double-headed with Don’t You Just Know It. Huey and his Clowns, fronted by drag queen Bobby Marchan.)
With a spirited Derrick & Patsy duet on the flip, enlivened by handclap percussion.

Funky mid-tempo sister soul, recorded at Dave Hamilton’s studio in Detroit. (Plus Little Ann’s tribute to the producer, on the flip.)

Super-rare, gorgeous, killer Candi from 1969.

The greatest UK MC of them all, setting fire to Tempo.
Soundboy willies. Do it Jah.
Amenably sick, synthy dub.

Two jazz burners.
A shuffling, r&b version of a Lerner & Loewe tune from Brigadoon, by way of Nat King Cole.
Plus an instrumental one-away featuring Baba Brooks, Roland Alphonso and Lester Sterling. One of the reed players puts his foot in it, with a squawk, but who cares. Guess that’s why it’s previously unreleased and such a precious release now.

The Afrotone’s beautiful, sad excoriation of war, militarism and stock notions of military heroism.
Scars of war? Me no want.
Originally out in 1983 on Vin Hur. With the High Times Players.

A rockers update of Bob Andy’s almighty scorcher, mimicking Marley’s yodeling vocalese for extra authority.

From the Black Ark; a local hit in 1975. Clarke’s tale has the hapless, resilient innocence of Buster Keaton. Nice, basic melodica. The production is credited to Mike Johnson — who also stumped up for I-Roy sessions at the Ark around this time — but the rhythm and dub are Upsetters through and through.

Lovely, wheezing roots, with the same charming frankness and male vulnerability as Jux’ She’s Gonna Marry Me.
Great tunes to spin at wedding parties (cut with Pablo’s Bells Of Death).