The two Saturns, from 1966; plus a third, previously-unreleased volume of five originals and four standards.
‘More of a collection of statements than a style. Some of the tunes, with their odd juxtapositions of mood, could be mistaken for silent film scores. Perhaps they were audio notebooks, a way to generate ideas which could be developed with the band. Regardless, they serve as compelling standalone works. The fingering reflects Sun Ra’s encyclopedic knowledge of piano history as his passages veer from stride to swing, from barrelhouse to post-bop, from march to Cecil Taylor-esque free flights, with a bit of soothing candelabra- swank thrown in. Sunny’s attack is mercurial, his themes unpredictable. His hands can be primitive or playful, then abruptly turn sensitive and elegant. As with the whole of Sun Ra’s recorded legacy, you get everything but consistency and predictability.
‘The listener also experiences something rare in the omniverse of Sun Ra recordings: intimacy. His albums, generally populated by the rotating Arkestral cast, are raucous affairs. With the Monorails sessions, we eavesdrop on private moments: the artist, alone with his piano.’

From 1982, this was the last of the El Saturn studio albums.
Open, upful and swinging, including the only recordings of Blue Intensity and the title-track Celestial Love, besides a bouquet of other Ra originals, and a couple of Duke Ellingtons featuring the one and only June Tyson in full effect.
Surely the arrangement of Charlie Chaplin’s Smile, with Tyson and Gilmore upfront together, will cheer you up a bit.

The class Spinners version for Lloyd Charmers, as featured on Darker Than Blue.

Tough sides recorded by Jammys and Scientist, besides a couple of killers from the Black Ark — The Children Are Crying (with The Heptones) and Mr Scabina.

Courtesy of Rock A Shacka.

Irresistible version of the Isley Brothers.
Vin Gordon kicks it through the swinging doors and down the street, on the flip.
Apparently the Brothers were fed up with Berry Gordy pushing them around… but it’s timeless, universal advice: ‘Sock it to your neighbour / Sock it to your mother / It’s your thing / Do what you want to do.’

The godfather, with a Tommy McCook. Two classy body-rockers.

Two Duke Reids: hard-swinging, emotionally distressed rocksteady from Mr Soul Of Jamaica himself, down on his knees, hand on heart; and a terrific version of Gene Chandler’s Duke Of Earl on the flip.