Jamaican music was always – and will remain to a certain extent – tied to the tradition of soul music that the Motown and Stax labels were churning out during the middle part of the ‘60s and into the ‘70s. Of course, there were other influences on JA music, but with unwieldy list of covers that singers and musicians ran through on the island, it’s easy to hear as much soul music as jazz or any other genre.

Boris Gardiner might not today be one of the most visible proponents of JA music – unless you’re a nerdly, pasty white collector type – but that doesn’t mean that the man’s work was any less stunning than his counterparts at home or his musical heroes in the States.

Coming into the general consciousness of JA music fans during the early ‘60s, Gardiner was briefly a member of a variety of chart toping groups – including Byron Lee’s Dragonaires. And in 1968, Gardiner became a session musician at Studio One recording with the likes of the Heptones, Larry Marshall and Junior Murvin.

Solidifying his talents in the studio, Gardiner formed his own ensemble and wrangled a gig at a local hotel working under the name the Boris Gardiner Happening. It would be the auspices that the singer and bassist would record under for the most documented portion of his career.

Just a few years later, Gardiner issued his first long player entitled Reggae Experience. Following a few years later was a compilation called A Soulful Experience is Happening, which rounded up a variety of covers that Gardiner issued.

Perhaps angling at working his way into the soul market in the UK and the States, Gardiner issued this clutch of covers at a time when northern soul was becoming a viable portion of the market and the growing throngs of UK skinheads demanded dance music. Gardiner dished up what everyone wanted.

In just over thirty minutes of music Gardiner and his band laid down nothing less than a disc that exhibited the broad diversity of American soul music. Included was Bill Wither’s “Ain’t No Sunshine.” And as the most recognizable track represented here, Gardiner proved he was capable of working the same stuffs as his better known, international cohort. It’s odd, though, that the singer didn’t work to insert too much of his own personality into the covers he worked with.

Much the same could be said for his cover of Booker T’s “Melting Pot.” Even to the most voracious fans of the Stax house band it’d be difficult to differentiate between the original and what was turned in on this compilation.

Regardless of that, the disc eventually gets bogged down by some sappy stuff towards the end of the disc with tracks like “Don’t Take Away” and “Today” just sounding like filler. Neither renders the album a throw away, but also doesn’t engender the nervy reggae stuffs that Gardiner was capable of coaxing out of his band.

The compilation isn’t a necessity to track down, just a pleasurable listen if ones stumbles upon it.