‘Verve By Request.’
‘Beautiful, haunting… spiritual reflection is sung with carnal force, songs of romance are rendered like hymns. For a few moments, on these ancient records, Baghdad sounds like paradise’ (Rolling Stone).
Creole poetry, rootical mysticism and heavy-grooving synths illuminate this survey of the Martiniquan’s first four albums, recorded in France in the late seventies and early nineties, but inspired by the ‘smells and colours… subliminal noises… fruity notes, the memories of funeral wakes, the bombastic organ of the cathedral and the gasps of the drums’ of home.
‘Midonet’s musical world is cosmic, mystical and he has created his own idiosyncratic style around it: not plain folk, not bélé, chouval bwa, beguine or gwoka, but rather a transcendental fusion of all these and a true reflection of his personality.’
Ka-boom! The legendary digger re-ignites the Lagos Disco Inferno and kicks off his very own mouth-watering imprint with two sides of boogie-down bliss.
Rough, tough, tumping, bumping soundboy breakbeat from the Caribbean coast of Colombia.
Forty brand new buckaroos, tooled and primed by Jeanpi Perreo, Edwin Producciones and DJ Ander — all from local sound-systems — careering guarapo-style out of punches of vintage Nigerian highlife, waka and co, by legends like Steven Amechi, Sagbeni Aragbada and Cardinal Rex Jim Lawson.
Edited and mastered by CGB at D&M for maximum oomph and worries, and presented in a gatefold sleeve with cool and deadly varnishing. Plus a full-size booklet detailing the fascinating history of this music, seamed into the strange, tentacular byways of hand-to-hand vinyl distribution, record collecting and musical connoisseurship, and the soundclash traditions of the region, suffused with the politics and culture of the Black Atlantic, stretching back to the 1950s.
Grooving Ghanaian boogie from the wizz keyboardist.
A mix of overlooked gems and local boomshots from the cassette tape scene in Libya, during the late 80s to early 2000, when independent artists relied on makeshift home studios or travelled abroad to record in Tunisia and Egypt. A judicious mash-up of boundary-pushing sounds which reflects this precariousness and nascency; also the political and cultural crossroads at which Libya found itself. North African rhythms meet Arab melodies and deep African roots. Disco and house run into gritty pop. Reggae courses through, with an unmistakable Libyan twist — not just musically, in the slowed-down cadence of traditional shaabi beats, but also culturally, taking to heart its outernational message of proud, defiant self-awareness.
Assembled by Habibi Funk with personality and love, as per; with a 32-page booklet. Another winner.
Last few box sets!
An all-time classic of contemporary Egyptian music, recorded in 1971. The composition is by Baligh Hamdi, for a full orchestra, featuring Omar Khorshid on guitar.
It’s a one-man-band evocation of the traditional accordion sound of his youth, adding a Moog, Rhodes and beat box. Light and fleet-footed, but questing and utterly heartfelt.
Switched-on Ethiopiques, refreshing and lovely as anything. No doubt insufficiently solemn and inauthentically-authentic for World Music plod, but hotly recommended by us.
Taking a break from cabbing duties back home in Washington DC, for his first LP in fifteen years. Ethiopian standards and originals; his unmistakable melodica, accordion and keys, in the same double-bass-and-drums setting as recent live shows.
The second son of King Jammy, Trevor James aka Baby G is at the cutting edge of the new wave of dancehall producers. Jammy’s stalwarts Ward 21 and newcomers Rasta Youth on the mic.
‘In 1972, the country of Rhodesia — as Zimbabwe was then known — was in the middle of a long-simmering struggle for independence from British colonial rule. In the hotels and nightclubs of the capital, bands could make a living playing a mix of Afro-Rock, Cha-Cha-Cha and Congolese Rumba. But as the desire for independence grew stronger, a number of Zimbabwean musicians began to look to their own culture for inspiration. They began to emulate the staccato sound and looping melodies of the mbira (thumb piano) on their electric guitars, and to replicate the insistent shaker rhythms on the hi-hat; they also started to sing in the Shona language and to add overtly political messages to their lyrics (safe in the knowledge that the predominantly white minority government wouldn’t understand them). From this collision of electric instruments and indigenous traditions, a new style of Zimbabwean popular music — later known as Chimurenga, from the Shona word for ‘struggle’ — was born. And there were few bands more essential to the development of this music than the Hallelujah Chicken Run Band…’
Their biggest hits — along with several rare tracks — recorded between 1974 and 1979.
‘As with many other ethnic groups of the area, a traditional singing pattern is used with each singer adapting words to context. Many of these songs express intimate, strong emotions that bring tears to the performers while they are singing. The cascading mournful feel of this music is beautifully transcendent. You’ve never heard anything like it.
‘Instruments used by the ensemble include the babi (single tree leaf ) and mepa (tree leaf rolled up into the shape of a horn or mirliton), a chiwo (three-stringed bowed instrument), a labi (six-holed bamboo flute), a lahe (three-stringed small lute) and a meba (vertical reed instrument).’