Icelandic trombone-warrier, Samúelsson, here leads just about the whole of Iceland’s jazz community through a handful of thumping great grooves. The liner notes state “everybody played pots and pans, clapped, whistled and danced,” which puts one in mind of Sun Ra’s claim that “as all marines are riflemen, all members of the Arkestra are percussionists.” Right enough, this set begins with a communal blast of massed energy, but soon digs deep into the kind of smoking Afrobeat jam more likely to have wafted from Fela Kuit’s Shrine nightclub in the 70s: a rolling juggernaut of dark rhythm carrying lengthy horn solos, dripping with space effects and dubby whooshes. It’s heady stuff. Less convincing, though, is the title track’s cheesy big band funk, crammed full of polished horn stabs that sound uncannily like Ronnie Hazelhurst’s theme to The Two Ronnies. Still, agit-prop cover art and the satirical swipe of ‘International Monetary Funk’ provide a nicely unruly vibe to the set as a whole.