The picture that adorns this LP is worth the admission price alone. Onyeabor beams out from inside a Red Cow roundabout of analog synthesisers, tape machines, microphones and a mixing desk. Immaculately besuited, he is also wearing a smile as broad as his trademark stetson, which rests on his head like a crown. The royal fingers are on the keys. Action is imminent. This king’s ready for battle and a most unusual type of electric dreams are in store for his lucky subjects.

The keys to a whole new kingdom are on offer here. This was his eighth album in as many years from 1977 to 1985, and his last. He became a devout Christian and fell silent on the subject of his music.

All eight were self-recorded in his own Willfilms studio in the former Biafran capital of Enugu. Thirty years on, producers are still trying to wring the kind of raw emotion and tender feeling from their machines that this record buzzes with. It’s a textbook lesson in how to extract true sentiment from the stacks of hardware. But Onyeabor has a golden touch in other departments, too.

His songcraft and sweet singing couch political punches in a velvet glove. Here the prominent female backing vocalists are a heavenly chorus merrily accompanying the lead's sojourns on every beat. The whole affair reaches a joyous crescendo over the gently percolating groove that underpins the epic When the Going is Smooth and Good.

The lyrics rail against fair-weather friends but the infectious joy in the music commands you to dance away the heartache. At 13 minutes it’s barely long enough. Playing this magical tune will transform any dance party.

William Onyeabor is alive and well in Nigeria. The king is not dead.