Probably best known for “Fatty Boom Boom,” which I’d found an original 12 inch of at WRUW when I rocked Cobwebs and Strange over there, Ranking Dread had only a short career, before seemingly disappearing. By all accounts, after his second full length, which we’ll get to in a moment, and some singles, Ranking Dread (aka Winston Brown, bka Robert Blackwood) apparently pursued a life of crime. The ‘why’ to that might only be due to money – or lackluster album sales, but who knows? Anyway, he was reportedly poisoned while in prison around 1996 – in the UK. Of course, since I don’t even know what his real name was, that report might be construed as spurious at best.

Before his disappearance into the netherworld of crime, though, Ranking Dread went into the studio with Linval Thompson, who I can say was a better producer than singer, a few times. Regardless of that, though, the 1979 release of the confusingly titled Girls Fiesta led up to the following year’s Lots of Loving. Despite those titles, as well as the fact that he penned “Fatty Boom Boom,” Ranking Dread doesn’t really get into too many tangents about woman – unless you count “My Mommy a the Nicest Mommy” on which the toaster explains he grew up without a father, but thankfully had a mother whom he could rely on. The cover of this second disc even finds the singer being mobbed by some happy looking kids – and yes, that seems odd, but not just because Ranking Dread appears to be high. It’s just a weird image, perhaps befitting Paul McCartney.

Most of the lyrical fair here is focused on hunger and the problems that Rastas ran into in Jamaica. The perspective that JA outsiders have of that religion is vastly different from those who lived on the island. Shunned might be too strong a word to describe what folks did to Rastas, but they were generally looked down upon. And for this reason, Ranking Dread felt that at good deal of his singing should be given over to an explication of the religious group’s point of view.

Musically, Thompson imbues the disc with some latter day dubs – at points almost getting ahead of the beat into a steppers style. There’s not too much of an ‘80s sound coming out of here, aligning the disc with some earlier sing jay stuff. But joining the band is guitarist Bingy Bunny, who should simply be revered for his part in the Morwells’ recordings. And while no single player stands out too much, it becomes clear that Ranking Dread is going into every track with a specific cadence with which to work. It may still be partially improvised, but it certainly doesn’t seem like it. This is synergy – not hyperbole.

The fact that this disc and its predecessor basically comprise the output of this deejay is pretty shameful. It’s an overall indictment of the music industry. And while Ranking Dread might not have the persona of Dillinger or the spontaneity of U-Roy, he has something of his own style.