‘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.’

Farsi love songs, including a tribute to Norma Winstone, from the German-Iranian singer Cymin Samawatie.

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).

Epic poetry wrapped up in the rabab viol (a coconut shell covered with fish skin, with a long, spiked handle, two horsehair strings), the vertical suffara flute, the arghul double clarinet, droning and melodious.

Intense Moroccan singer improvisatorially lighting up the rare, refined nineteenth century wasla style, in suite form, with chamber orchestra — qanun zither, ud lute, kaman violin and riqq percussion.

The ‘little devil’ was born in Tunis in 1884 to a Libyan mother and Moroccan dad. The first half of the twentieth century was a golden era in Tunisian music; Cheikh El Afrite its most celebrated artist. As a youngster he became fluent in its mix of classical Arab-Andalous and Ottoman traditions with folk idioms like bedouin and other African melodies, fondo and fezzani, and the festive tripolitain music of Libya. Turning professional at eighteen, he was soon singing for the bey every Tuesday night, at his seaside palace in Hammam Lif. Later, his recordings made him star throughout the Maghreb.

Raw, rocking cannibalisations of Yemeni folk — with dashes of dabke, trance and Mulatu Astatke — at moments using junk made to sound like age-old lutes and percussion.

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