In his dazzling, rubadub flow, with intricate rhyming, lavish word-play and off-the-wall allusiveness, his genial socialism and jubilant, green-fingered vegetarianism, his knockabout sense of humour and all-round irrepressible good vibes, Ranger is the peerless heir to U-Roy and Dennis Alcapone… and the most diplomatic of envoys for the new dancehall styles just around the corner. He’s undervalued because of a perceived lack of gravitas, but he’s one of the all-time great deejays, and this is his best work.
Have a listen to the musical shock attack Automatic: over Take A Ride, no less, he bundles the Last Poets into a breakneck stream of consciousness, with walk-ons for Marcus Garvey, Bag O Wire, and Garvey’s secretary Mother Muschett; Dovecot Memorial Park and Madison Square; a bad boy who doesn’t know Ranger’s dad is a cop; succinct advice like ‘natty don’t play card inna Babylon yard’; a big baboon in the light of the moon, a broken chair, a felt hat, an anchor you can’t conchor…
“Everybody was wondering why I sounded different. And the reason I sounded different was through I did grow in England and I have the English accent and when I speak you can hear every word I am saying clearly. It was a plus for me. And then through I liked to write poetry and write songs, you know I’m a writer, I stick to the topic from start to finish.”
And the musical rhythms are a preposterous fish-tea tidal wave of Studio One classics (plus a Shank I Sheck): Take A Ride/Truths & Rights, Real Rock/Armageddon Time, One Step Beyond, Hot Milk, Throw Me Corn, Never Let Go, Full Up, Please Be True, Things A Come Up To Bump.

So let the good time roll, with Sir Coxsone at the control. When Ranger talk, the dance it have fe cork.
Deliriously enjoyable. Terrific cover art, too.
Very highly recommended. Five ribbits, five bims, five flash-its, five oinks.

‘Coxsone Boy’ showed Mr. Dodd how to lick over Studio One’s vast armament of foundational rhythms for the dancehall era to come (and claim them back from Channel One). He knew them all backwards from singing over them on his sound.
Killer selection.

An LP’s worth of vintage Studio One rhythms (and Coxsone productions), vocals plus dubs, all unavailable elsewhere.

Sublimely versioning the almighty Curtis anthem; with another rocksteady clarion-call on the flip, brassy and more stern, by The Hamlins.

‘The Soul Brothers possess a Crystal Clear Sound. Obviously it would be better to Cut the Chatter and Spin the Platter.’
A knockout selection of instrumental scorchers by the awesome Studio One house band led by Jackie Mittoo and Roland Alphonso, 1965-67.

An excellent introduction — a tip-top, well-paced selection ranging across styles and vintages, with some marvellous photographs of the great man at Kingston airport, Canada-bound.

Tough pan-Caribbean wig-out, complete with twanging guitar and characteristically hot organ; plus The Jamaicans’ lovely version of the Sam Cooke.

The absolute bee’s knees in chilled, atmospheric, vibesing reggae.
From the elusive 1980 Studio One LP Showcase, like the terrific flip ‘Oboe’ (presumably a spliffed-up ‘Obeah’).
Beautifully limber, expansive production-work, dubwise from the off, featuring ace percussion, scrubby guitar by Eric Frater, and Mittoo zoning clean out.
Released on its Jack Jones for the first time, and sounding predictably deadly on 12”, though you’ll wish it ran for miles.
Total one-of-a-kind murder.

A heavy, rumbunctious, rocking version by a young Monty Alexander, with a tasty eastern tang; plus a terrific rolling shuffle, on the flip.

Deadly, dubwise space disco by the Gaylad — a version of The Earons’ Land Of Hunger, hauling it from Compass Point in the Bahamas, to downtown Kingston, Jamaica.