Like Zodiac Mountain and TiMOTHy Revelator, Wakinyan walk with the dead, atavistic conjurors barfing up long lost chants from long outlawed cults. Massed percussion, analogue synth drones, sleigh bells, an anvil, hand drums, all collude with golden voiced female singers and droning folk instruments to create an ever tumbling, stumbling avalanche of glorious ritual heat, a huge human tingel-tangel of fire spirits. And over all of this spouts a male MC, summoning up the ancestors in a truly effective way. Imagine Excepter had been reared not in the electricity of New York but in the foothills of some Meso-American Ur-culture, and you’re reaching Wakinyan’s bucolic pleasure centres. Resplendent in its sumptuous gatefold sleeve, this was Julian Cope’s Vinyl of the Month for August 2012.