A companion piece to the Nigeria Special album released by the same label in 2007, this excellent double CD covers a longer period in Ghanaian musical history, and sets the bar even higher for re-releases. Ghana’s economy was in a slow but steady decline at the time, but its music scene was vibrantly creative, and the 33 cuts lovingly presented here bear that out.

What’s that about a crumbling music industry? Sound familiar? Just as outfits in Ghana at the time were forced to respond to a deteriorating economic climate by downsizing from large dance bands to smaller guitar groups, this compilation takes the idea of making the CD a ‘desirable object’ to a new level. The 44-page booklet of hands-on journalism, archive photos, original sleeve artwork and disc scans makes for a highly attractive alternative to the . Collectors, take note.

The diversity of styles is impressive, ranging from adaptations of traditional tunes such as Asaase Ase’s richly percussive Ohiani Sua Efir and the tropical psychedelia of Honny & The Bees Band’s take on a Fanti rowing song, to The Cutlass Dance Band’s Them Go Talk of You. The latter suggests the influence of Nigerian afrobeat luminary Fela Kuti, who contributes an unmistakeable sax solo to Basa Basa Soundz’s Dr Solutsu.

Other examples of work by relatively well-known artists include The African Brothers International Band and The Sweet Talks, whose Akampanye choogles along magnificently. But most of the artists will be unfamiliar to all but serious Ghanaphiles, with K Frimpong & His Cubanos Fiestas’ fabulously taut Kyen Kyen Bi Adi M’Awu possibly the only track that’s been reissued on CD.

Ghana Special could be seen as a kind of prequel to The Guitar and Gun, a wonderful pair of vinyl compilations that documented recordings made by English expat Professor John Collins in Ghana between 1981 and 1984, re-released as a single CD by Sterns/Earthworks in 2003. Collins’ own Bokoor Band can be head on disc two of Ghana Special, and his priceless recollections of the perils of live performance without adequate bass in the sleeve notes are a hoot.

The ubiquity of dizzy electric organs, effortlessly laidback guitar solos, rootsy drumming and distinctively Ghanaian vocal harmonies make it hard to pick other highlights. This is sweetly infectious dance music of the most democratic kind: there’s always more than one rhythm to groove to, just take your pick.