Occasionally something previously unknown comes across my doorstep that kind of grabs me by the lapels. Such is the case with Derrick Morgan’s 1972 rocksteady/reggae triumph, Development. First, let me say that when it comes to the universe of rocksteady, ska, reggae, dub, etc., etc., I am an utter novice. I have friends that have taken a very deep dive and, in fact, not long ago, one of them handed me a copy of King Tubbys Meets Rockers Uptown at a record store and asked me if I’d heard it. I hadn’t. You probably have. Anyway, he said he’d buy it back if I didn’t like it. Of course, it’s wonderful. Point being, I’m rather out of my purview here.

But what I do know, thanks to press materials and liner notes, is that Derrick Morgan had been a hit maker in Jamaica for some years before he released Development at the age of 32. The album was for decades a vinyl white whale, its one-time pressing so flawed that most copies immediately ended up in the trash. The few copies that survived literally bounced around Jamaica to the point of un-playability. With the master tapes somewhere in the abyss, Sutro Park took it upon themselves to compile this first-ever reissue from the best versions of each song they could find from whatever vinyl copies were available. And they did a fantastic job.

As soon as I heard the first song, “Send A Little Rain,” I knew this was going to be up my alley. The sound is the definition of organic, warm, fuzzy, and, might I add, the percussion is incredible. Then there’s Derrick Morgan’s voice, a classic mix of assuredness and melancholia, a combination I can never resist. “Who Knows” follows that wistfulness into ruminations on what might become of a romance, with the clear-eyed understanding that just because things are going well today doesn’t mean they will be tomorrow. And vice versa. Morgan’s voice is gentle and comforting, the beat slow and steady, the guitar hanging back, horns answering Morgan’s plea, every note tasteful and in its place. (Note: There is no information included about the other musicians, if they’re even known.)

While the first two songs were written by Morgan, “Never See My Baby” is a cover. I wish I could say I knew it was originally by Horace Andy, but I had to check Discogs. And I’m still not sure that’s exactly accurate. Anyway, this is a beautifully melancholy song about trying to keep one’s baby from walking, and it’s played at the perfect tempo for… walking. “Standing By You” is a bit of a rocksteady lullaby, and I won’t even guess who did it originally. “One Morning In May” is another original, and one of my favorite tracks, with a vibe that I will venture to say straddles the rocksteady/reggae line. But, again, what do I know? In any case, accompanied by rolling carnival organ, Morgan manages to gracefully segue from attempting to woo a girl to commenting on child support, or the lack thereof. “Father Killam,” a song dating back to late ’60s Jamaica, strikes me as more straight ahead reggae here, but it’s gritty and tough, just the way I like it.

“Still Around” starts side two with another fantastic example of that mix of confidence and sadness that I was talking about, with Morgan dismissing his detractors while at the same time sounding like the harsh words cause him far more sorrow than he’s letting on. A buzzing hi-hat throws accents in the background while organ bubbles and burbles. That organ really comes to the foreground in “Hold Your Jack,” playing counterpoint to the guitar, and it’s interesting to hear the quality of the sources vary slightly from song to song. This track, in particular, is a little muted. But rather than detracting, it adds to the air of authenticity, as if you’ve been transported back to the fully analog Kingston of the early 1970s, the humidity hanging heavy around your ears. Assuming I’ve got my facts straight, “It Won’t Be This Way” goes back to the early ’60s and a soul group called The King Pins. In fact, there is more than a little soul creeping around the edges of these songs, Morgan’s honeyed voice lending itself to digging deep. “Bring In The Guns” is a reggae-ified plea for the youth of Jamaica to hand over their weapons (including homemade bombs!), a great tune that, sadly, has just as much resonance over half a century later.

“Me Na Run” continues riffing on the previous idea of turning in one’s guns (and homemade bombs) and working for unity, a reminder that the specter of violence lurks in the background of so much of this seemingly gentle, peaceful music (see Bob Marley). “Festival 10” ends the album with majestic horns and a hope that everyone can come together and have a nice time at a festival after, judging by the lyrics, things had started to get a bit dicey following… well, Festival 1. 

As of this writing, Mr. Morgan is about to celebrate his 84th birthday, and if you like the reggae, rocksteady, and ska originators, I think you’re going to really dig Developments. In fact, after I received this record I sent a link to some online tracks to my aforementioned friend. He was not familiar with this particular album but texted back after a few minutes: “Whelp, I’ll be buying this Derrick Morgan album.” With music this deep, there’s always more to hear.

Rating: A

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