180 gram vinyl. 

A lost classic of the 1960s, a psychedelic masterpiece drenched in color and inspired by life, love, poverty, rebellion, and, of course, "jumpers, coke, sweet mary jane." The album is Cold Fact, and what's more intriguing is that its maker—a shadowy figure known as RODRIGUEZ—was, for many years, lost too. A decade ago, he was rediscovered working on a Detroit building site, unaware that his defining album had become not only a cult classic, but for the people of South Africa, a beacon of revolution. His debut album recorded in 1969 and in March 1970. It's crushingly good stuff, filled with tales of bad drugs, lost love, and itchy-footed songs about life in late '60s inner-city America. The album sank without trace, thanks, in part, to some of Rodriguez's more idiosyncratic behavior, like performing at an industry showcase with his back to the audience throughout. As his music career became a memory, Rodriguez's legend was growing—on the other side of the world. In South Africa, Australia and New Zealand, Cold Fact had become a major word of mouth success, particularly among young people in the South African armed forces, who identified with its counter-cultural bent. But Rodriguez was an enigma and his demise became the subject of debate and conjecture.