Recorded in 1977 at the hand of Lee “Scratch” Perry in the legendary Black Ark lies one of its most beguiling and misunderstood creations. While blending roots reggae with African rhythms seems like a natural recipe for success, Island Records wouldn’t touch it. The project was deemed a failure at the outset, and only years later did various iterations of the project come to light.

The resurrection of Strata-East is nothing short of monumental, and that’s a fact. While each album on the legendary jazz label is a masterpiece in its own right, there is perhaps no clearer line to the heart of the Strata-East psyche than Charles Tolliver and Music Inc.’s Live at Slugs’ Vol. 1 & 2.

Of all the reggae cornerstones hitting their 50th anniversary this year, you’d be hard pressed to find another that hit with the same gale force of Burning Spear’s Marcus Garvey. Part reggae master class, part history lesson, Marcus Garvey introduced Winston Rodney’s impassioned wail to the world, establishing Burning Spear as one of reggae’s foremost emissaries and educators. Simply put, this is one of the heaviest, deepest roots sets ever laid down.

Habibi Funk’s latest compilation is a trip into the Libyan cassette scene of the 1990s. While the collected songs were crafted for clear commercial appeal, designed to soundtrack romantic singalongs during late-night ballads in pre-war Tripoli, the end result achieves something way more complex, accidentally or not, by folding African music back unto itself through a process of re-diasporization.

Amid Pink Floyd’s inevitable implosion initiated by Dark Side of the Moon’s monumental success, the groundwork was laid out for the eventual collapse of the prog-gone-hitmaker behemoth. Buffered in chaos, Richard Wright quietly put to tape what can credibly be argued the best Floyd-adjacent solo record, Wet Dream.

With twenty selections culled from private press relics only, Maybe I’m Dreaming is a grab bag that feels as congruous as it does eclectic. From the Anthology Recordings diggers who brought you essential previous compilations like Sad About The Times, this collection is a self-described conscious detour, pairing synth-driven gems and reggae rhythms with rootsy AOR folk rock. Like a mixtape from a reliable old friend, Maybe I’m Dreaming feels curated with purpose and delivered with a panoramic reach.

Originally released in 1980, before the Bhagwan even ventured to America to begin the now infamous Oregon ashram and it’s ill-fated demise, his spiritual teachings reached Tamaki in Japan. Compelled to reach far outside his classical training for a full length tribute to the guru, Tamaki lays out a mind altering trip into some confounding musical spaces.

Ras Michael and the Sons of Negus’ Love Thy Neighbour is perhaps the last great masterwork produced by Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry within the hallowed walls of his Black Ark studio. It is a testament to the uncompromising spiritual clarity of Ras Michael’s Nyabinghi mysticism, and to the dubwise delirium of the Upsetter’s sonic palette.