It’s curious as to why some performers are incapable of achieving success through their own recordings, but subsequently find renown after taking a backseat and helming the boards. The conception of a song can’t be that much different on either side of the recording studio glass. If you’re playing on a track, a vision of some sort needs to be figured and composed to a degree. And if you’re endeavoring to twiddle knobs, understanding how to record and produce a work after its been set to tape seems complicated in roughly the same way. It’s all splicing ideas together in order to arrive at a summation of a moment in time.

Phil Pratt, for whatever reason, wasn’t able to find too much success as a singer. And in fact, the first side he cut wasn’t released until some time later. Regardless of that inauspicious start, Pratt had ingratiated himself to the rock steady cognoscenti being employed at Studio One as an extra pair of hands. While the soon to be producer was toting around boxes, though, Lee Perry arrived and the two struck up a relationship. It can’t be said that when Pratt got into production work that the results would be tied to Perry’s Black Ark Studio, but seeing how wide open the recording process could be probably influenced the nascent behind the boards man.

Working with some of the most famous toaster’s in the islands history likely made Pratt’s job easier than if he’d been affiliated with some hacks. He also came along at the right time – the tail end of the rock steady thing and the beginning of deejay culture. Being familiar with sound systems and the folks who road those rhythms didn’t hurt either. And over the course of his career – well, at least while he was working in music – Pratt counted Big Youth, Bobby Klaphat, the Heptones, Dillinger and Dennis Brown as his musical cohort.

Splitting time between working with proper singers, toasters and instrumentalists, Pratt was able to take elements from each and arrive at a sound that might not have been wholly unique, but it was still entertaining. An Al Campbell track included on the Phil Pratt Thing compilation entitled “Going the Wrong Way” finds its version lousy with odd production noises that might summon images of two computers having a conversation. Whatever the impetus was for those odd sounds – and maybe it was Perry – Pratt landed on success.

His discography hasn’t been completely cultivated for lost treasures, but it’s getting there. Pratt apparently owns and operates an restaurant somewhere in the UK. He might not be too interested in working a procuer’s gig any longer, but the relatively recent appreciation for his work can’t be frowned upon – or a tremendous surprise. Working during the end of the rock steady period placed Pratt ahead of the curve to a certain extent. And while a huge number of people he worked with went on to relative fame, Pratt must have figured that at some point folks would dig up his work and appreciate it.