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.

Dedicated students of the pop underground, Lightheaded inhibits a wide-eyed coexistence with formative heroes from the Glasgow indie school, sixties sunshine pop and plenty of like minded stalwarts from their Slumberland label. Don’t call it naivety, but the band’s shambolic guitar pop dreams up their own hypothetical, optimistic world: lyrical themes of umbrellas, gardens and sunsets take center stage.

Released twenty years ago in 2005, The Campfire Headphase places a premium on self-exploration and reflection to recognize what has made the rest worthwhile–to marvel at the minute when the macro is just too damn much.

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.

Ital and vital. Produced by Joe Gibbs and engineered by Errol Thompson, Prince Far I, aka the Voice Of Thunder, dropped this slab of essential roots reggae in 1976. His grizzled ropeadope delivery scorching the LP’s ten tracks, Far I’s epic toasting (or chanting, as he preferred) is on full display riding a wave of rumbling bass, subtle dub effects, percussion and organ.

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.