Born in Cuba during the '30s when there may have been as many mafioso types as Cubans on the island, Tommy McCook moved to Jamaica and began attending the Alpha School for Boys. As so many of his classmates, concurrent to his attendance and subsequent to it, McCook developed an undeniable acumen for not just the saxophone, but for composition and music in very general sense.

His association with the Aggrovators, in various configurations, yielded a great many discs though. Some dates, McCook led and others he sunk into the band as a singer took the credit on whatever album was being worked out. That's not a lament on the part of the dead sax player, but a stated fact. While McCook garnered deference in Jamaica, he never attained the status afforded to former band mate Rico Rodriquez in England. Again, McCook was probably alright with that - he kept busy. And towards the end of his life, McCook was lucky enough to tour with the newly reconstituted Skatalites for a few years before checking out.

His career with the Skatalites - no matter how brief - has been richly detailed, but in heading out into the field as an independent player, his discography has become scattered and difficult to figure. The Jamaican recording industry was as incestuous a cauldron as any epoch in musical history could be figured to be. Producers named bands, switched players, but maintained the same moniker. And even producers changed names themselves. That just means that there's a real possibility that fans won't ever know about some of the works that McCook played on. Bummer.

Disco Rockers - produced by Bunny Lee and engineered by Prince Jammy and King Tubby - is a pretty good example of how the Jamaican recording industry had a ways to go before reflecting any sort of organization. Originally released on Dynamic Sounds in '77, another version of the disc was put out the same year on a different label under the name of Hot Lava. Of course either of those titles are anything other than trite, but there's no use in this sort of album pressing. McCook, being the name brand he was, probably sold a good many disc, but most likely didn't sell out every disc within a year. I think that's a pretty educated guess.

Anyway, the disc itself might not fit into the specifications of what one believes a disc with the name King Tubby affixed to it should sound like. Dated could be a way in which to reference its sound - but having heard the Cookin' Shuffle compilation from the mid '90s, Disco Rockers wasn't too surprising.

There isn't a musical misstep to be found in the backing band, but McCook displays a few moments of uncertainty. "African Jumpers," while sporting a few good runs from the sax player suffers from what's either a double tracked solo from McCook or his trying to play a solo as a duet with another player. Whatever the case is, it isn't reflective of the quality of McCook's catalog as a while. At some points his releases get a bit dicey, but the playing is generally a bit beyond what's here. That shouldn't dissuade hardcore fans, though. There're enough recognizable melodies here get anyone over.