Lovers rock is the reggae subgenre that has the hardest time getting any respect; dancehall fans think it's too soft, and roots-and-culture purists find it too worldly. But reggae's deepest roots are in the sentimental pop and R&B hits of the 1950s and '60s, which early ska and rocksteady bands covered in their own uniquely Jamaican style while gradually developing a sound and subject matter of their own, and it's those roots that are constantly evoked on this uneven but ultimately pleasing two-disc collection of reggae love songs culled from nearly three decades of Greensleeves releases. A number of these are familiar tracks that serious reggae fans will already own several times over: Dawn Penn's deathless "You Don't Love Me (No No No)," Gregory Isaacs' "Private Beach Party," J.C. Lodge's "Somebody Loves You Honey." There are also some very worthy obscurities, such as Cocoa Tea's excellent "Low Profile" and Singing Melody's startlingly excellent "Back for Good." But the program is also scattered with inexplicable mediocrities: Dennis Brown sounds weak, tired, and off-pitch on "Moonlight," and the great saxophonist Dean Fraser demonstrates that he should stick to his horn on the rather embarrassing "Girlfriend"; Cultural Roots make a respectable appearance on "Tell It to Her," but end up sounding like a low-calorie version of Aswad. Given the budget-line price on this set, though, it's hard to find serious fault with the presence of a few clunkers.