‘Classic Vinyl Series.’

In the ‘Blue Note Classic Vinyl’ series.

Luminously communicative improvisations by pianist Anja Lauvdal and drummer Joakim Heibø, juggling bristling ecstasy and desolate reflection. Impressive; warmly recommended.

Janneau contributed to François Tusques’ 1965 landmark Free Jazz sessions. He was a stalwart of Jef Gilson’s big band in the years leading up to this first album as leader in 1975, with Jenny-Clark on bass and percussions, Bernard Lubat on drums, and Michel Grailler from Magma on spaced-out synths. The compositions are all FJ originals: check the monumental Droit d’Asile, the spooky Theme For An Unknown Island, and the homage Mr J.C. For Ever.

‘Verve By Request.’

‘Turbocharged highlife from 1980s Ghana… It opens in fine style with Nka Bom, horns sharply descending over a disco bassline, with a triumphant electric piano solo and a lengthy percussion interlude. Other highlights include the growling Gbenta, with a bluesy bassline and machine-gun drumming, and the trumpet voluntary and dubby choral singing on Moonlight Africa’ (Financial Times).
Produced by Eno, who discarded his own contributions as ‘clumsy and unnecessary compared to Edikanfo’s witty, light funkiness… What they’d given me was finished — there was nothing else I could add.’

‘Classic Vinyl Series.’

His first LP, recorded for Uno Melodic in 1981, produced by Roy Ayers.
En route the saxophonist had recorded with Mongo Santamaria, Jon Lucien and Dom Salvador. That’s him on James Mason’s Sweet Power Your Embrace; and he played on various Ayers LPs, including Vibrations and Lifeline.
Treasured for its gorgeous, mellow opener.

The multi-faceted genius of Eugene ‘Yonachak’ Cline, producer, multi-instrumentalist and singer from St Lucia, beautifully presented by Hornin’, with top-notch, live-and-kicking sound, in a gorgeous sleeve.
It’s a gripping, crazy mix. Deep, mid-seventies roots, Half Moon style, extended, with an instrumental, and ace dubs; nuts but banging late-eighties digi; off-the-wall rasta-soca fire.
Great stuff.

Legendary Harlem soul and funk from 1973 — the RAT was the house-band at the Apollo —  with bags of lo-fi charm and sublimated Isaac Hayes to its ‘unabashedly sincere songs that perfectly encapsulate the era’s heady milieu of black pride and cultural awareness, and the plaintive emotion of struggling to realise dreams whilst navigating a city and neighbourhood in decline.’
Painstakingly prepared according to the remit of this series; with excellent notes.