As my thirst for early dancehall deepens as a result of my recent discourse on the genre, there really aren’t too many better places to start than on Soul Jazz recordings. Although, in the not too distant past, the label has come under fire for reissuing work from the Oakland’s Black Jazz label. That apparently has been dealt with seeing as the compilation in question is no longer represented under the discography section on the Soul Jazz website.

Regardless of that, the UK based label has sought to recount the history of the Jamaican recording industry in pretty extensive detail. And on the Beth Lesser curated Dancehall: The Rise of Jamaican Dancehall Culture she works to follow the trajectory of the music, but also its subject matter over time. The scope of the project, which takes up two discs with its thirty some odd tracks, is a pretty apt explication of the genre’s initial period.

The point of dancehall’s ascension to dominate the Jamaican musical landscape could be contested, but with the inclusion of Jacob Miller alongside latter acts like Super Cat is ample proof of the sprawling nature of this disc’s endeavor.

That being said, there are a number of folks represented herein that are more commonly associated with an earlier era of Jamaican music. The high pitched vocals of Junior Murvin have more frequently been heard over the work of Lee Perry as opposed to the over produced backing drum track that he accompanies on “Cool Out Son.” But even in this setting, his singing is more than capable of carrying the lions share of the weight.

Contrasting Murvin’s work with that of Half Pint finds enough similarities to figure that either singer could work with basically any medium. And as proof of that, a few decades after his work here, Half Pint found himself in the company of Sublime leftovers the Long Beach Dub All Stars. Of course, that association is more than powerful enough to lend a bit of extra cultural cache to the spate of dancehall tracks released in the ‘80s.

And even while, most of this work is not only from that general time period, its also dominated by male singers, there are a number of woman who not only can keep up vocally with their counter parts, but lyrically as well.

While only two woman make it onto these discs, Sister Nancy is easily one of the most recognizable voices of the genre. Here, she eschews much of the sexual nature of other’s work to instead comment upon the fact that woman can toast as well – if not better – than a number of men working in Jamaican music. Alongside her is the lesser known, Lady Ann. While missing the key she’s supposed to be in a few times, Lady Ann goes over a strong enough track, coupled with her rather sweet voice, for any missteps to be forgiven.

There are folks that are noticeably absent – Michigan and Smiley for example – but this set of tracks is steeped in classic tracks. And regardless of what issues you may have with some dancehall – or at least the perception of the genre – the two hours of music on Dancehall: The Rise of Jamaican Dancehall Culture rarely disappoints.