Oppositional Anatolian psych from 1977, drafting in members of Moğollar and Bariş Manço’s Kurtalan Ekspres. Pop-up gatefold sleeve, as originally.

Yarghul player Atef Swaitat and singer Abu Ali are popular Bedouin wedding musicians extending long family traditions in Jenin and the north of historic Palestine. This stomping, swirling, surging, precious music was recorded at ceremonies across the Galilee throughout the 1970s.
It’s exhilarating, giddying, and immersive.

‘Egypt’s ‘official’ popular music throughout much of the twentieth century was a complex form of art song steeped in tradition, well-loved by the middle and upper classes. The music business was highly structured and professional; centred in Cairo. However, far from the metropolis, to the north and northwest, in towns like Tanta and Alexandria and extending across the Saharan Desert to the Libyan border, a raw, hybrid shaabi/al-musiqa al-shabiya style of music was springing up, supported by small, upstart labels.
‘This compilation covers the full range of styles presented by the short-lived but fecund Bourini Records, launched in the late 1960s in Benghazi, Libya. Gobsmacking moments include Basis Rahouma’s transformation into a growling, barking man-lion, and Reem Kamal’s onwards-and-upwards hand-clapping party banger, with a grooving nihilistic dissonance reminiscent of the Velvet Underground. The thorough-going contrast with mainstream Egyptian popular music is stark in Ana Mish Hafwatak, its vocal woven deftly through a constant accordion drone, and the sparse, slow-burning lament Al Bint al Libya. Whereas the mainstream was aspirational, projecting Egyptian culture at its most refined, the performances captured by Bourini were authentic expressions of ordinary, everyday life. More than half a century old, this music has lost none of its urgency, presence, or relevance.’

From 1990 — a trio with oud, violin and percussion.

Ravishing, chilled interplay between oud, piano and accordion.

The master oudist with Jack DeJohnette, Django Bates and Dave Holland.
‘Not only one of the year’s best ECM releases; it’s a classic-in-the-making that should ultimately be considered one of the label’s very best recordings in its nearly fifty-year history’ (All About Jazz).

‘Megarbane finds a sonic through-line in his surrounding soundscapes as he draws on the chaotic energy of the crowded Beirut metropolis (Souk El Ahah), the warm atmosphere of the Lebanese countryside (Chez Mounir), or the lushness of a Mediterranean beach resort (Portemilio). In many ways, Marzipan is a cartographic feat — it travels and traces a journey across many dimensions, both sonic and physical. Megarbane’s instrumental catalogue is suitably wide-ranging: toy glockenspiel, harpsichord, pedal steel, a classic Wurlitzer et al are used liberally on the record. Free-ranging influences — beloved artists like Ahmed Malek and Issam Hajali, West African funk, European soundtracks — result in a record of somewhat unparalleled expansiveness. Floating melodies and frantic rhythmic interludes nestle together with psychedelia — fuzz-drenched guitar, sliding microtonal interludes, hypnotic rhythmic breakdowns. The resultant sound is as sprawling as the musician’s instrumental dexterity. The closer Bala 3anouan can be translated loosely to ‘without address’ — a fitting final word.’

A ton of drunk people stomping about in a circle to the frenetic, overdubbed, distorted sound of electric saz, synthesized drums, cimbalom, and sheep sound effects: yep, Bengi Folk, Derdiyoklar-style.

An invigorating sampling of the prodigious output of this joint in Matariya, Cairo. Mahragan, or electro-shaabi, stripped down Sardena-style: auto-tuned, maxed-out vocals, thumping beats, synths, wild effects.

Hotly recommended! Islam Chipsy’s debut studio album, recorded late last year in downtown Cairo. Four jolts of wild creativity and pure exhilaration — the trolleying frenzy of Trinity and Kahraba sandwiching his inimitable readings of the Egyptian standards Simsimiyya (from the north-eastern Nile delta) and Mouled Saidi (from Upper Egypt).

‘A visionary blend of spiritual jazz, psychedelic funk, Moroccan traditions, and electronic experimentation.’

Originally released in 1978, Wahdon announces this great diva’s switch from traditional to more modern idioms and arrangements.
Three mesmerising songs to start, including Habaitak Ta Neseet Al Naoum (I Loved You So Much I Forgot To Sleep), with ravishing strings and percussion.
Recorded in Athens at the studios of EMI Greece during the same sessions as Zaid Rahbani’s Abu Ali LP, and likewise edging into funk and disco, the second side is something else. In Al Bostah (The Bus), a woman recalls a bus journey with a lover, in scorching heat, to extended, hypnotic, uptempo, funkdafied disco. The title track Wahdon crafts a slower, jazzier setting for Fairuz’ out-of-this-world singing.
Recommended.