New releases last two weeks: Funk Soul & Jazz

Review: Roy Ayers at his most transcendent. 'Everybody Loves the Sunshine' is more than a summertime anthemiit's a spiritual moodboard that's shaped jazz-funk, soul, r&b and hip-hop for nearly 50 years. Ayers, born in Los Angeles and raised in its fertile fusion scene, places the vibraphone at the music's heart, coaxing heat-haze tones from sparse chords, synths, and that honeyed chorus. Flip it over and the instrumental version unlocks a deeper layer: stripped of vocals, it becomes a pure groove, drifting and hypnotic. What lingers is the balanceibetween melancholy and bliss, rhythm and release. A rare track that feels entirely unhurried yet quietly radical, now preserved in a limited pressing that looks as golden as it sounds.

Review: This orange 7" is a miniature monument to one of soul's most quietly influential figures. Roy AyersiLos Angeles-born, jazz-schooled, funk-mindedicrafted 'Everybody Loves the Sunshine' not to dazzle but to dissolve. It moves with a drowsy clarity: shimmering synth, near-whispered vocals, and a lazily tumbling bassline that never quite lands. Released during a golden run of Ayers' mid-70s material, the track has since become shorthand for warm-weather introspection, equal parts ease and ache. The instrumental version on the reverse keeps the spirit intact, offering a meditative glide through the same terrain. Limited to 300 copies, this orange pressing pairs a low-lit groove with a deepening sense of legacyiAyers' influence isn't just heard, it's felt in the space he leaves behind.

Review: Few recordings capture the easy intensity of a summer afternoon like 'Everybody Loves the Sunshine'. Released in 1976 and wrapped in slow-drifting synths and soft falsettos, the track became a touchstone not just for Roy Ayers, but for 70s soul and beyond. Born in Los Angeles, Ayers helped define the jazz-funk crossover, placing the vibraphone at the centre of a sound both hazy and sharply detailed. The original vocal take on the A-side still melts under its own warmth; the instrumental on the flip uncovers the careful architecture beneath. Issued here on 7" black wax following Ayers' recent passing, this reissue feels like both a keepsake and a quiet honouring of an artist who shaped a whole way of listening.