Rare Jammys singles plus a trailer load of previously unreleased cuts, including do-overs of Police & Thieves and Cool Out Son.

Bawdy, vaudevillian malarkey, both country and urban, with no messing musically. Stuff like Banana Man, You Put It In I’ll Take It Out, I Had To Give Up Gym, Elevator Papa Switchboard Mama. Crumb cover.

From 1961, featuring Charlie Rouse… though the stand-out is Just A Gigolo, by Monk solo.

With Herbie, Mobley and co — and an eight-person gospel choir — in 1963.
The stand-out is a version of Duke Pearson’s Cristo Redentor. A fail-safe at funerals.
‘Classic Vinyl Series.’

The title track is monster jugga jugga rare groove, proper rudeboy two-step. A 1976 special outing for the Hodges Bros and co, house band at Hi, where they backed Al Green, Ann Peebles and everyone.

Anthony Maher’s 1988 dub album, an Australian commingling of JA science and UK post-punk and Industrial.

A late-eighties Bunny Lee production originally released on the Imperial label in Canada, with Rhythm Twins excursions on Death In The Arena, Love Me Forever, My Conversation, Roots Natty Congo, Storm…

An invigorating sampling of the prodigious output of this joint in Matariya, Cairo. Mahragan, or electro-shaabi, stripped down Sardena-style: auto-tuned, maxed-out vocals, thumping beats, synths, wild effects.

Cool Down Your Temper, followed by Jah Jah The Conqueror… murders she wrote. The Agrovators in the place, with Augustus Pablo; Bunny Lee at the desk; two killer Tubbys dubs to close out the sides.

From the same year Smith left the Miles Davis group, the title track is such an almighty classic, it has eclipsed this lovely LP.
Desert Nights, Voodoo Woman and the dubby Shadows are variations of the same ecstatically cosmic, limberly funky modal jazz as the beloved opener, centred on the sublimity of Cecil McBee’s bass-playing. Summer Days and My Love go Latin. The tenor voice of Lonnie’s bro Donald leads a version of Horace Silver’s Peace (with new, yearning lyrics by Doug Carn).

‘Ace is celebrating the fiftieth anniversary of the original Flying Dutchman release, with an ultra-high quality deluxe vinyl edition of the album. Using the original album master tape we decamped to Frank Merritt’s East London studio, the Carvery, for an all-analogue cut of the album. It has never sounded better!
‘We have housed this in a tip-on a laminated gatefold sleeve, which has allows Jack Martin’s original painting of Lonnie to shine as never before. We have also a fully illustrated sleeve note by Frank Tope, telling the story of how the record took its journey through the universe from its spiritual jazz route to become a clubland anthem. This story is told with help from Gilles Peterson, Norman Jay, and others.’

Musically in-for-the-kill, forward-looking and dubwise; politically scathing. From 1985, when T was living in Harlesden. Aswad horns.