Junior’s hair’s growing fast, but stops just short of Funky Dreads. OK, miles short. She and the iDog were content to shake metaphorical dreads, nodding their heads sagely as if they were teetering on the cutting edge in the Africa Centre in the late 80s. The Africa Centre. It was just a rubbish shop in Covent Garden, wasn’t it?

A seminal record, this, so we’re told. I always find it oddly unsatisfying. Where’s Jazzie B’s searing insight into being selective and objective and an asset to the collective? I mean, come on, we’re on this mission to achieve. But yes, Caron Wheeler does a lovely job – early Shara-Nelson-bad-solo-career prototype that she was – and the Reggae Philharmonic Orchestra keep it swinging. They had plaits, incidentally, not Funky Dreads. They were no a to the c.

I had this single on 3” CD. Weren’t the 80s great?