Afrobeat Vinyl 282 Items

Extremely rare, under the radar afro-psychedelic LP from South Africa. This mysterious band was produced by African funk master, composer, guitarist and producer Almon Sandisa Memela, who was active since the mid 1950s, first as a musician and guitar teacher and then also as a producer. He is famous for his 1970s Afro funk works Funky Africa and the very sought after Broken Shoes.

Action features a cool mixture of incipient afro-funk and garage pop/psych, with one of its songs having been compiled on the famous Next Stop... Soweto compilation series that helped ignite the current fever for African music.

Riyl: Ofege, Blo, Aktion, The Apostles, Sjob Movement, Soweto and the likes.

First ever vinyl reissue, reproducing the original sleeve artwork and with remastered sound. 500 copies only.

Amazing collection of Disco Music released in the 80s (1980-84) on the Nigerian label Duomo Music Ltd. and reissued here for the first time.
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The late 70s, the thrust of mainstream music had changed from the indigenous highlife to a more international funky disco sound. Keyboards and drum machines were the key components of the new sound. The implications on sales was real as names like Bunny Mack, Chris Okotie, Christy Essien, Jide Obi replaced Osita Osadebe and the Oriental Brothers on the charts. It was in this effervescent climate that Duomo Sounds Ltd was established by Mr Humphrey Aniakor, a business man with no prior investment in the industry. It was simply the in-thing for a young monied businessman. The name suggested European sophistication, modernity and a little abstraction. D U O M O Sounds, the kids loved it. The first release was Bassey Black’s “Someone to love” (DSL 001) which sold over a 100,000 copies, a big hit at the time. The success of the album attracted several artists the most influential of which was Mike Umoh. He aimed for the pop market with accessible, funky arrangements. However his affinity for funk and disco has made him a reference for collectors worldwide. His LP entitled, “Honey, Honey” (DSL 002) was the label’s second release and his most successful album. Also produced the labels 19th release, Bindiga’s, “No More Starvation” (DSL 019), an afro-boogie funk masterpiece. The album in its original format is very sought after by collectors and djs and changes hands for huge sums. Its been described by many as cosmic funk at its finest. Christy Ogbah´s disco soul/highlife records on Duomo are also very highly sought after. This new Livingstone Studio release presents the best of Duomo Sounds Ltd. for the first time.

Jimi Tenor delivers another 7" on Philophon. This time he teamed up with the two glorious gospel queens Florence Adooni and Lizzy Amaliyenga from Bolgatanga/Northern Ghana. This release is a first insight into the next album by Jimi on Philophon, which will be released later the year.
Vocalize My Luv is a charmingly presented lure for love. The secret of the song is that drummer Ekow Alabi Savage's upfront high-life beat is triggering a Jimi-operated Korg MS-20 bass synth. Man and machine are melting down into a light and sportive groove, which irresistibly invites you to do some frisky aerobic moves on the 3am dancefloor. Ki'igba is a classic Frafra gospel song by Alogte Oho, completed with some jubilating flute by master Jimi.

DJ friendly 2xLP version, cut loud for your pleasure!

Harmonies is the new long player from underground super-producer Lord Echo. Hotly anticipated for the last few years by his growing entourage of fans, many were frustrated by his descent into obscurity in the industrial backwaters of New Zealand where he lived alone and went completely insane trying to complete the record. But those frustrations are finally at an end, and the wait was worth it - for fans at least.The new album solidifies his already distinctive mutations of reggae and rock steady with disco, African soul, techno and spiritual jazz. In other words, the Lord has returned from the wilderness with a bounty for his followers. Eat of the bread of life and enjoy access to his crazy World of Sound.

For his next release on Soundway Records, Los Angeles-based Dexter Story hooks up with long time friend and compatriot of music, the saxophonist, jazz composer, producer and band-leader Kamasi Washington. A fierce, rumbling electro Ethio-Funk groove provides the platform for an intense and powerful interplay between Washington on tenor sax and Todd Simon on trumpet. An instrumental cover version of Tilahun Gessesse's 1970s cut of the same name, it's Story's homage to the oppressed Oromo people of Southern Ethiopia. Backed on the flip by the one cut from Story's 'Wondem' long-player that did not make it to vinyl when the LP version was cut, Nia Andrew's sublime and atmospheric collaboration on Eastern Prayer will keep all those happy who grumbled at it's exclusion from wax first time around. This is a record that no lover of Ethio-Jazz, Afro-Beat or Funk should be excused for not owning.

Soundway Records present Kenya Special: Selected East African Recordings from the 1970s & ‘80s - a treasure-trove of rare and unusual recordings from East Africa. Spread out over two CDs and one triple LP, Kenya Special is accompanied by detailed liner notes, original artwork and photographs.

It follows on from Soundway’s much acclaimed African ‘Special’ series that to date has focused on the highlife and afrobeat output from 1970s Nigeria and Ghana. Kenya Special is a collection of 32 recordings (most of which were only ever released on small-run 45rpm 7" singles) that stand out as being different or unique as well as some classic genre standards. From Kikuyu language ‘liquid soul’, Luo benga and Swahili afrobeat to genre-bending Congolese and Tanzanian tracks recorded in Nairobi, Kenya Special sees Soundway yet again taking the less trodden path. Many of the tracks featured here are peppered with innovation and experimentation highlighting how diverse the music scene in Kenya was at the time.

In 1970s Kenya the two threads of rumba and benga loosely dominated the music scene. Benga quickly became Kenya’s unique contribution to afro-pop; spreading like wildfire through the interior countryside with it’s fast, 4/4 machine-gun beat and intricate electric guitar layers. The Congolese take on Afro-Cuban rumba was introduced by touring bands many of whom settled in East Africa - influencing bands from Kenya and Tanzania to come up with their own take on this popular style. Alongside these styles were small ensembles and hotel-sponsored bands, playing a blend of music that often included rock ‘n’ roll riffs, elements of ‘afro’ music (influenced by West African musicians like Fela Kuti), and multiple other combinations from South African and Zambian guitar styles to disco, funk and Swahili coastal rhythms like chakacha.

Painstakingly compiled, assembled and researched over two years by a team of five people from five countries (Kenya included), Kenya Special is a collection that looks beyond the mainstream and brings new life and recognition to some little known gems and forgotten classics of Kenya’s past.

1958, in the middle of the liberation war. While the rattle of machine guns could be heard in the maquis, in the city, the population listened at low volume to Algerian patriotic songs broadcast by the powerful Egyptian radio: “The Voice of the Arabs”. These artists all belonged to a troupe created by the self-proclaimed management of the National Liberation Front (FLN), based in Tunis and claiming to gather a “representative” sample of the Algerian musical movement of the time, among which Ahmed Wahby (who sang Wahran Wahran, a song popularized by Khaled) and Wafia from Oran, Farid Aly the Kabyle, and H’sissen, the champion of Algiers’ Chaâbi. The same year, singer Ben Achour was killed in conditions that have never been elucidated.
Algiers, by a summer evening in 1960. Cafe terraces were crowded and glasses of anisette kept coming with metronomic regularity, despite the alarming music of police sirens heard at intervals and the silhouettes of soldiers marching in the streets. The mood was good, united by a tune escaping from everywhere: balconies, where laundry was finishing drying, windows wide open from apartments or restaurants serving the famous Algiers shrimps along with copious rosé wine. Couples spontaneously joined the party upon hearing “Ya Mustafa“, punctuated by improvised choirs screaming “Chérie je t’aime, chérie je t’adore“. The song, as played by Sétif-born Alberto Staïffi, was a phenomenal success, to the point that even FLN fighters adopted it unanimously. Hence an unfortunate misunderstanding that would trick colonial authorities into believing Mustafa was an ode to the glory of Fellaghas. In 1961, Cheikh Raymond Leyris, a Jewish grand master of ma’luf (one of Algeria’s three Andalusian waves) who was Enrico Macias’ professor, was killed in Constantine, making him the first victim of a terrorist wave that would catch up with Algeria at the dawn of the 1990s by attacking anything that thought, wrote or sang.
Mohamed Mazouni, born January 4, 1940 in Blida – “The City of Roses” both known for its beautiful ‘Blueberry Square’ (saht ettout) in the middle of which a majestic bandstand took center stage, and its brothels – had just turned twenty. He was rather handsome and his memory dragged around a lot of catchy refrains by Rabah Driassa and Abderrahmane Aziz, also natives of Blida, or by ‘asri (modern music) masters Bentir or Lamari. He would make good use of all these influences and many others stemming from the Algerian heritage.
The young Mohamed was certainly aware of his vocal limits, as he used to underline them: “I had a small voice, I came to terms with it!“. But it didn’t lack charm nor authenticity, and it was to improve with age. He began his singing career in those years, chosing bedoui as a style (a Saharan genre popularized among others by the great Khelifi Ahmed).
July 1962. The last French soldiers were preparing their pack. A jubilant crowd was proclaiming its joy of an independent Algeria. Remembering the impact of popular music to galvanize the “working classes”, the new authorities in office rewarded the former members of the FLN troupe by appointing them at the head of national orchestras. In widespread euphoria, the government encouraged odes to the recovered independence, and refrains to the glory of “restored dignity” sprung from everywhere. Abderrahmane Aziz, a star of ‘asri (Algiers’ yé-yé) was a favorite with Mabrouk Alik (“Congratulations, Mohamed / Algeria came back to you“); Blaoui Houari, a precursor of Raï music, praised the courage of Zabana the hero; Kamel Hamadi recalled in Kabyle the experience of Amirouche the chahid (martyr), and even the venerable Remitti had her own song for the Children of Algeria. All this under the benevolent eye (and ear) of the regime led by Ahmed Ben Bella, the herald of the single party and vigilant guardian of the “Arab-Islamic values” established as a code of conduct. Singers were praised the Egyptian model, as well as Andalusian art intended for a nascent petty bourgeoisie and decreed a “national classic”; some did not hesitate to sell out. These Khobzists – an Algerian humorous term mocking those who put “putting-food-on-the-table” reasons forward to justify their allegiance to the system – were to monopolize all programs and stages, while on the fringes, popular music settled for animating wedding or circumcision celebrations. Its absence in the media further strengthened its regionalization: each genre (chaâbi, chaouï, Kabyle, Oranian…) stayed confined within its local boundaries, and its “national representatives” were those whose tunes didn’t bother anyone. The first criticisms would emanate from France, where many Algerian artists went to tackle other styles. During the Kabyle-expression time slot on Radio Paris, Slimane Azem – once accused of “collaboration” – sang, evoking animals, the first political lines denouncing the dictatorship and preconceived thinking prevailing in his country. The reaction was swift: under pressure from the Algerian government, the Kabyle minute was cancelled. Even in Algeria, Ahmed Baghdadi aka Saber, an idol for fans of Raï music (still called “Oranian folklore”), was imprisoned for denouncing the bureaucracy of El Khedma (work).
For his part, Mazouni was to be noticed through a very committed song: Rebtouh Fel Mechnak (“They tied him to the guillotine”). But above all, the general public discovered him through a performance at the Ibn Khaldoun Theater (formerly Pierre Bordes Theater, in the heart of Algiers), broadcast by the Algerian Radio Broadcasting, later renamed ENTV. This would enable him to integrate the Algerian National Theater’s artistic troupe. Then, to pay tribute to independence, he sang “Farewell France, Hello Algeria”.
June 19, 1965: Boumediene’s coup only made matters worse. Algeria adopted a Soviet-style profile where everything was planned, even music. Associations devoted to Arab-Andalusian music proliferated and some sycophantic music movement emerged, in charge of spreading the message about “fundamental options”. Not so far from the real-fake lyricism epitomized by Djamel Amrani, the poet who evoked a “woman as beautiful as a self-managed farm”. The power glorified itself through cultural weeks abroad or official events, summoning troubadours rallied to its cause. On the other hand, popular music kept surviving through wedding, banquets and 45s recorded for private companies, undergoing censorship and increased surveillance from the military.
As for Mazouni, he followed his path, recording a few popular tunes, but he also was in the mood for traveling beyond the Mediterranean: “In 1969 I left Algeria to settle in France. I wanted to get a change of air, to discover new artistic worlds“. He, then, had no idea that he was about to become an idolized star within the immigrant community.
France. During the 1950s and 1960s, when parents were hugging the walls, almost apologizing for existing, a few Maghrebi artists assumed Western names to hide their origins. This was the case of Laïd Hamani, an Algerian from Kabylia, better known as Victor Leed, a rocker from the Golf Drouot’s heyday, or of Moroccan Berber Abdelghafour Mociane, the self-proclaimed “Vigon”, a hack of a r&b voice. Others, far more numerous, made careers in the shadow of cafes run by their compatriots, performing on makeshift stages: a few chairs around a table with two or three microphones on it, with terrible feedback occasionally interfering. Their names were Ahmed Wahby or Dahmane El Harrachi. Between the Bastille, Nation, Saint-Michel, Belleville and Barbès districts, an exclusively communitarian, generally male audience previously informed by a few words written on a slate, came to applaud the announced singers. It happened on Friday and Saturday nights, plus on extra Sunday afternoons.
In a nostalgia-clouded atmosphere heated by draft beers, customers – from this isolated population, a part of the French people nevertheless – hung on the words of these musicians who resembled them so much. Like many of them, they worked hard all week, impatiently waiting for the weekend to get intoxicated with some tunes from the village. Sometimes, they spent Saturday afternoons at movie theaters such as the Delta or the Louxor, with extra mini-concerts during intermissions, dreaming, eyes open, to the sound of Abdel Halim Hafez’ voice whispering melancholic songs or Indian laments made in Bombay on full screen. And the radio or records were also there for people to be touched to the rhythm of Oum Kalsoum’s songs, and scopitones as well to watch one’s favorite star’s videos again and again.
Dumbfounded, Mohamed received this atmosphere of culture of exile and much more in the face. Fully immersed in it, he soaked up the songs of Dahmane El Harrachi (the creator of Ya Rayah), Slimane Azem, Akli Yahiaten or Cheikh El Hasnaoui, but also those from the crazy years of twist and rock’n’roll as embodied by Johnny Hallyday, Les Chaussettes Noires or Les Chats Sauvages, not to mention Elvis Presley and the triumphant beginnings of Anglo-Saxon pop music. Between 1970 and 1990, he had a series of hits such bearing such titles as “Miniskirt”, “Darling Lady”, “20 years in France”, “Faded Blue”, Clichy, Daag Dagui, “Comrade”, “Tell me it’s not true” or “I’m the Chaoui”, some kind of unifying anthem for all regions of Algeria, as he explained: “I sang for people who, like me, experienced exile. I was and have always remained very attached to my country, Algeria. To me, it’s not about people from Constantine, Oran or Algiers, it’s just about Algerians. I sing in classical or dialectal Arabic as much as in French and Kabyle”.
Mazouni, a dandy shattered by his century and always all spruced up who barely performed on stage, had greatly benefited from the impact of scopitones, the ancestors of music videos – those image and sound machines inevitably found in many bars held by immigrants. His strength lay in Arabic lyrics all his compatriots could understand, and catchy melodies accompanied by violin, goblet drum, qanun, tar (a small tambourine with jingles), lute, and sometimes electric guitar on yé-yé compositions. Like a politician, Mazouni drew on all themes knowing that he would nail it each time. This earned him the nickname “Polaroid singer” – let’s add “kaleidoscope” to it. Both a conformist (his lectures on infidelity or mixed-race marriage) and disturbing singer (his lyrics about the agitation upon seeing a mini-skirt or being on the make in high school…), Mohamed Mazouni crossed the 1960s and 1970s with his dark humor and unifying mix of local styles. Besides his trivial topics, he also denounced racism and the appalling condition of immigrant workers. However, his way of telling of high school girls, cars and pleasure places earned him the favors of France’s young migrant zazous.
But by casting his net too wide, he made a mistake in 1991, during the interactive Gulf War, supporting Saddam Hussein’s position through his provocative title Zadam Ya Saddam (“Go Saddam”). He was banned from residing in France for five years, only returning in 2013 for a concert at the Arab World Institute where he appeared dressed as the Bedouin of his beginnings.
At the end of the 1990s, the very wide distribution of Michèle Collery and Anaïs Prosaïc’s documentary on Arabic and Berber scopitones (first on Canal+, then in many theaters with debates following about singing exile), highlighted Mazouni’s important role, giving new impetus to his career. Rachid Taha, who covered Ecoute-moi camarade, Zebda’s Mouss and Hakim with Adieu la France, Bonjour l’Algérie, as well as the Orchestre National de Barbès who played Tu n’es plus comme avant (Les roses), also contributed to the recognition of Mazouni by a new generation.
Living in Algeria, Mohamed Mazouni did not stop singing and even had a few local hits, always driven by a “wide targeting” ambition. This compilation, the first one dedicated to him, includes all of his never-reissued “hits” with, as a bonus, unobtainable songs such as L’amour Maâk, Bleu Délavé or Daag Dagui.1958, in the middle of the liberation war. While the rattle of machine guns could be heard in the maquis, in the city, the population listened at low volume to Algerian patriotic songs broadcast by the powerful Egyptian radio: “The Voice of the Arabs”. These artists all belonged to a troupe created by the self-proclaimed management of the National Liberation Front (FLN), based in Tunis and claiming to gather a “representative” sample of the Algerian musical movement of the time, among which Ahmed Wahby (who sang Wahran Wahran, a song popularized by Khaled) and Wafia from Oran, Farid Aly the Kabyle, and H’sissen, the champion of Algiers’ Chaâbi. The same year, singer Ben Achour was killed in conditions that have never been elucidated.
Algiers, by a summer evening in 1960. Cafe terraces were crowded and glasses of anisette kept coming with metronomic regularity, despite the alarming music of police sirens heard at intervals and the silhouettes of soldiers marching in the streets. The mood was good, united by a tune escaping from everywhere: balconies, where laundry was finishing drying, windows wide open from apartments or restaurants serving the famous Algiers shrimps along with copious rosé wine. Couples spontaneously joined the party upon hearing “Ya Mustafa“, punctuated by improvised choirs screaming “Chérie je t’aime, chérie je t’adore“. The song, as played by Sétif-born Alberto Staïffi, was a phenomenal success, to the point that even FLN fighters adopted it unanimously. Hence an unfortunate misunderstanding that would trick colonial authorities into believing Mustafa was an ode to the glory of Fellaghas. In 1961, Cheikh Raymond Leyris, a Jewish grand master of ma’luf (one of Algeria’s three Andalusian waves) who was Enrico Macias’ professor, was killed in Constantine, making him the first victim of a terrorist wave that would catch up with Algeria at the dawn of the 1990s by attacking anything that thought, wrote or sang.
Mohamed Mazouni, born January 4, 1940 in Blida – “The City of Roses” both known for its beautiful ‘Blueberry Square’ (saht ettout) in the middle of which a majestic bandstand took center stage, and its brothels – had just turned twenty. He was rather handsome and his memory dragged around a lot of catchy refrains by Rabah Driassa and Abderrahmane Aziz, also natives of Blida, or by ‘asri (modern music) masters Bentir or Lamari. He would make good use of all these influences and many others stemming from the Algerian heritage.
The young Mohamed was certainly aware of his vocal limits, as he used to underline them: “I had a small voice, I came to terms with it!“. But it didn’t lack charm nor authenticity, and it was to improve with age. He began his singing career in those years, chosing bedoui as a style (a Saharan genre popularized among others by the great Khelifi Ahmed).
July 1962. The last French soldiers were preparing their pack. A jubilant crowd was proclaiming its joy of an independent Algeria. Remembering the impact of popular music to galvanize the “working classes”, the new authorities in office rewarded the former members of the FLN troupe by appointing them at the head of national orchestras. In widespread euphoria, the government encouraged odes to the recovered independence, and refrains to the glory of “restored dignity” sprung from everywhere. Abderrahmane Aziz, a star of ‘asri (Algiers’ yé-yé) was a favorite with Mabrouk Alik (“Congratulations, Mohamed / Algeria came back to you“); Blaoui Houari, a precursor of Raï music, praised the courage of Zabana the hero; Kamel Hamadi recalled in Kabyle the experience of Amirouche the chahid (martyr), and even the venerable Remitti had her own song for the Children of Algeria. All this under the benevolent eye (and ear) of the regime led by Ahmed Ben Bella, the herald of the single party and vigilant guardian of the “Arab-Islamic values” established as a code of conduct. Singers were praised the Egyptian model, as well as Andalusian art intended for a nascent petty bourgeoisie and decreed a “national classic”; some did not hesitate to sell out. These Khobzists – an Algerian humorous term mocking those who put “putting-food-on-the-table” reasons forward to justify their allegiance to the system – were to monopolize all programs and stages, while on the fringes, popular music settled for animating wedding or circumcision celebrations. Its absence in the media further strengthened its regionalization: each genre (chaâbi, chaouï, Kabyle, Oranian…) stayed confined within its local boundaries, and its “national representatives” were those whose tunes didn’t bother anyone. The first criticisms would emanate from France, where many Algerian artists went to tackle other styles. During the Kabyle-expression time slot on Radio Paris, Slimane Azem – once accused of “collaboration” – sang, evoking animals, the first political lines denouncing the dictatorship and preconceived thinking prevailing in his country. The reaction was swift: under pressure from the Algerian government, the Kabyle minute was cancelled. Even in Algeria, Ahmed Baghdadi aka Saber, an idol for fans of Raï music (still called “Oranian folklore”), was imprisoned for denouncing the bureaucracy of El Khedma (work).
For his part, Mazouni was to be noticed through a very committed song: Rebtouh Fel Mechnak (“They tied him to the guillotine”). But above all, the general public discovered him through a performance at the Ibn Khaldoun Theater (formerly Pierre Bordes Theater, in the heart of Algiers), broadcast by the Algerian Radio Broadcasting, later renamed ENTV. This would enable him to integrate the Algerian National Theater’s artistic troupe. Then, to pay tribute to independence, he sang “Farewell France, Hello Algeria”.
June 19, 1965: Boumediene’s coup only made matters worse. Algeria adopted a Soviet-style profile where everything was planned, even music. Associations devoted to Arab-Andalusian music proliferated and some sycophantic music movement emerged, in charge of spreading the message about “fundamental options”. Not so far from the real-fake lyricism epitomized by Djamel Amrani, the poet who evoked a “woman as beautiful as a self-managed farm”. The power glorified itself through cultural weeks abroad or official events, summoning troubadours rallied to its cause. On the other hand, popular music kept surviving through wedding, banquets and 45s recorded for private companies, undergoing censorship and increased surveillance from the military.
As for Mazouni, he followed his path, recording a few popular tunes, but he also was in the mood for traveling beyond the Mediterranean: “In 1969 I left Algeria to settle in France. I wanted to get a change of air, to discover new artistic worlds“. He, then, had no idea that he was about to become an idolized star within the immigrant community.
France. During the 1950s and 1960s, when parents were hugging the walls, almost apologizing for existing, a few Maghrebi artists assumed Western names to hide their origins. This was the case of Laïd Hamani, an Algerian from Kabylia, better known as Victor Leed, a rocker from the Golf Drouot’s heyday, or of Moroccan Berber Abdelghafour Mociane, the self-proclaimed “Vigon”, a hack of a r&b voice. Others, far more numerous, made careers in the shadow of cafes run by their compatriots, performing on makeshift stages: a few chairs around a table with two or three microphones on it, with terrible feedback occasionally interfering. Their names were Ahmed Wahby or Dahmane El Harrachi. Between the Bastille, Nation, Saint-Michel, Belleville and Barbès districts, an exclusively communitarian, generally male audience previously informed by a few words written on a slate, came to applaud the announced singers. It happened on Friday and Saturday nights, plus on extra Sunday afternoons.
In a nostalgia-clouded atmosphere heated by draft beers, customers – from this isolated population, a part of the French people nevertheless – hung on the words of these musicians who resembled them so much. Like many of them, they worked hard all week, impatiently waiting for the weekend to get intoxicated with some tunes from the village. Sometimes, they spent Saturday afternoons at movie theaters such as the Delta or the Louxor, with extra mini-concerts during intermissions, dreaming, eyes open, to the sound of Abdel Halim Hafez’ voice whispering melancholic songs or Indian laments made in Bombay on full screen. And the radio or records were also there for people to be touched to the rhythm of Oum Kalsoum’s songs, and scopitones as well to watch one’s favorite star’s videos again and again.
Dumbfounded, Mohamed received this atmosphere of culture of exile and much more in the face. Fully immersed in it, he soaked up the songs of Dahmane El Harrachi (the creator of Ya Rayah), Slimane Azem, Akli Yahiaten or Cheikh El Hasnaoui, but also those from the crazy years of twist and rock’n’roll as embodied by Johnny Hallyday, Les Chaussettes Noires or Les Chats Sauvages, not to mention Elvis Presley and the triumphant beginnings of Anglo-Saxon pop music. Between 1970 and 1990, he had a series of hits such bearing such titles as “Miniskirt”, “Darling Lady”, “20 years in France”, “Faded Blue”, Clichy, Daag Dagui, “Comrade”, “Tell me it’s not true” or “I’m the Chaoui”, some kind of unifying anthem for all regions of Algeria, as he explained: “I sang for people who, like me, experienced exile. I was and have always remained very attached to my country, Algeria. To me, it’s not about people from Constantine, Oran or Algiers, it’s just about Algerians. I sing in classical or dialectal Arabic as much as in French and Kabyle”.
Mazouni, a dandy shattered by his century and always all spruced up who barely performed on stage, had greatly benefited from the impact of scopitones, the ancestors of music videos – those image and sound machines inevitably found in many bars held by immigrants. His strength lay in Arabic lyrics all his compatriots could understand, and catchy melodies accompanied by violin, goblet drum, qanun, tar (a small tambourine with jingles), lute, and sometimes electric guitar on yé-yé compositions. Like a politician, Mazouni drew on all themes knowing that he would nail it each time. This earned him the nickname “Polaroid singer” – let’s add “kaleidoscope” to it. Both a conformist (his lectures on infidelity or mixed-race marriage) and disturbing singer (his lyrics about the agitation upon seeing a mini-skirt or being on the make in high school…), Mohamed Mazouni crossed the 1960s and 1970s with his dark humor and unifying mix of local styles. Besides his trivial topics, he also denounced racism and the appalling condition of immigrant workers. However, his way of telling of high school girls, cars and pleasure places earned him the favors of France’s young migrant zazous.
But by casting his net too wide, he made a mistake in 1991, during the interactive Gulf War, supporting Saddam Hussein’s position through his provocative title Zadam Ya Saddam (“Go Saddam”). He was banned from residing in France for five years, only returning in 2013 for a concert at the Arab World Institute where he appeared dressed as the Bedouin of his beginnings.
At the end of the 1990s, the very wide distribution of Michèle Collery and Anaïs Prosaïc’s documentary on Arabic and Berber scopitones (first on Canal+, then in many theaters with debates following about singing exile), highlighted Mazouni’s important role, giving new impetus to his career. Rachid Taha, who covered Ecoute-moi camarade, Zebda’s Mouss and Hakim with Adieu la France, Bonjour l’Algérie, as well as the Orchestre National de Barbès who played Tu n’es plus comme avant (Les roses), also contributed to the recognition of Mazouni by a new generation.
Living in Algeria, Mohamed Mazouni did not stop singing and even had a few local hits, always driven by a “wide targeting” ambition. This compilation, the first one dedicated to him, includes all of his never-reissued “hits” with, as a bonus, unobtainable songs such as L’amour Maâk, Bleu Délavé or Daag Dagui.

Comet is pleased to announce the third volume of the Afrobeat Makers Series: Nu Guinea - The Tony Allen Experiments.
By re-working the original magic drum patterns from the Afrobeat master Tony Allen, Nu Guinea created a compilation of tracks which is charged by a voluminous electronic jazz-Psyche funk imprint.
For this release, Comet Records teamed up with Early Sounds Recordings, the berlin label, also home to duo Berliners Nu Guinea.
The Naples formed, Berlin-based duo, is a project that arose out of jam sessions, melting synthesizers with instruments, containing a handmade sound that is not aiming for perfection but genuineness. It can be understood as a steadily shaping form, always open for collaborations with other musicians.
They've previously collaborated with singer Wayne Snow (fellow berliner artist on Comet) for the vocal edit of Nu-World, also delivered a remix for Wayne Snow’ ʻRosie Epʼ both recently released on Tartelet Records.

“You don’t need to be a fan of Gwoka or even Antillean music in general to fall in love with the deep, expressive voices of the singers of the genre. Artists like COSACK, ANZALA and ESNARD BOISDUR have fascinated music lovers around the globe for decades. It’s not only the drumming style accompanied by their beautiful melodic intonation, but also the revolutionary spirit of these songs that make them a unique and powerful document of the culture and the history of the Antilles and the Caribbean.
I remember the first time I listened to this type of drumming and signing, live at the re-enactment of the slave riots, and being completely emotionally overwhelmed by it. Some of my record collector/DJ colleagues and friends – first and foremost Hugo Mendez and Émile Omar – shared the same fascination for the genre and kept inspiring me, and countless others, by their DJ sets at Tropical Discoteq in Paris, where I have had the pleasure to be one of the residents for five years and counting. At one of those nights, I met my friend Pascal Rioux from Favorite Recordings and told him about an amazing unreleased track I received months before, on a home-burned CD, from ESNARD BOISDUR. Among other beautiful songs, it contained one outstanding track, a mix of modern Gwoka and Zouk called “MIZIK BEL”.
When I started playing that track out, there were fierce reactions on both ends. The crowds loved it and after a while you could hear people cheer when they heard the first notes. Many DJs and labels wanted it, demanded it, and would even go as far as to block or unfriend me if I refused to comply. It became clear to me that the track had to be released on vinyl for the first time and made accessible to people who wanted to play it, while giving the original artist full credit. At the same time, I knew a remix version of the track that would pay respect to the original could only be created by getting the original stems, and not by editing the main track and pressing it into an “electronic dance corset.” Pascal agreed to the idea and started the licensing work and the search for the stems, which resulted in an ongoing three-year quest that was crowned by the finding of the ADAT containing the original tracks.
As AFRICAINE 808, Dirk Leyers and I spent considerable time trying to re-create the composition of the original, respectfully slicing and re-arranging it, adding new instrumentation, and recording additional percussion and talking drum with our percussionist ERIC OWUSU (Pat Thomas/Ebo Taylor). We stretched it, adding a krauty synth part without losing the focus of Esnard’s beautiful voice and lyrics, describing Caribbean music in all its diversity and beauty.
With this in mind, I hope you can now enjoy the beauty of “MIZIK BEL” as much as we have so far.” – (DJ NOMAD, June 2019).

Guadeloupe 1986. The football World Cup has all the Islanders' eyes riveted to their TV sets. At every half time breaks, local TV channel RFO broadcasts a music video on repeat: ‘’Tou’t Jou Pa Min’m". Max Rambhojan, the local singer responsible for this monster tune, has arrived.
In the video, he effortlessly sings and kickstarts a joyous street party with his band, Show Man, his dancers, kids, friends, family and what seems like the whole neighbourhood. The song will gain cult status from then on, cementing the power of the 'Zouk Chiré' sound, a high tempo version of Zouk, highly influenced by Guadeloupe's Carnival mass drum bands. Max self-releases his first solo album on vinyl in 1985, enrolling some of the best musicians the scene has to offer: his band leader King Klero, Guy Jacquet of les Vikings de la Guadeloupe fame on production duties, Ramon Pyrmée on synths, Claude Vamur, Meliza… In 1992 a new solo album follows. By then the artists have familiarized themselves with computers and the sound has gone full-on digital. In that album Max records an updated version of his “Tou’t Jou Pa Min’m” anthem to great effect.
Reducing Max Rambhojan to a zouk artist would be a mistake. He’s first and foremost a master of Gwo-Ka, a musical practice born during the transatlantic slave trade and performed by all ethnic and religious groups of Guadeloupe. It has never ceased to exist and has become a major part of the Island folk music culture. Max Rambhojan was schooled as a kid by Gwo-Ka pioneer Guy Conquette, and quickly joined the backing band of another legend, Ti-Sélès. That sound is the root of his particular style, especially vibrant on two tracks in his repertoire: “Cecilia” and “On Jou Matin”, both featured on this release's b-side. A touch of Spiritual Jazz is also palpable, allowing a magical vibe to spread, giving birth to some of the deepest music from this era.
In 2019, Max still performs Gwo-Ka every week-end in Guadeloupe and also hosts a show on local radio Media Tropical, 88.1FM. Secousse and Hot Mule are proud to present those 4 lost gems on wax and digital, carefully restored and remastered.

Originally released in 2005, now on vinyl!

The unstoppable, irresistible rhythms and melodies of Antibalas have influenced scores of artists across rock, hip hop, afrobeat and beyond. Born in a Brooklyn warehouse in 1997, 12 piece ensemble Antibalas is credited with introducing Afrobeat to a wider global audience, influencing countless musicians and developing a live show that is the stuff of legend. Members of Antibalas served as musical directors and the house band in the Broadway hit Fela! and penned original music for the show. Members have also recently collaborated/performed with Iron and Wine, Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings, Mark Ronson, TV on the Radio and The Roots. On the heels of the hit musical Fela!, Antibalas ended up reuniting with former member and producer Gabriel Roth, who was at the helm for their first three albums. This self-titled album was their first on Daptone Records.

By the mid-1970s, the Southern African nation known as the Republic of Zambia had fallen on hard times. Though the country’s first president Kenneth Kaunda had thrown off the yoke of British colonialism, the new federation found itself under his self-imposed, autocratic rule. Conflict loomed on all sides of this landlocked nation. Kaunda protected Zambia from war, but his country descended into isolation and poverty. This is the environment in which the ’70s rock revolution that has come to be known as Zamrock flourished. Fuzz guitars were commonplace, as were driving rhythms as influenced by James Brown’s funk as Jimi Hendrix’s rock predominated. Musical themes, mainly sung in the country’s constitutional language, English, were often bleak. In present day Zambia, Zamrock markers were few. Only a small number of the original Zamrock godfathers that remained in the country survived through the late ’90s. Aids decimated this country, and uncontrollable inflation forced the Zambian rockers that could afford to flee into something resembling exile. This was not a likely scene to survive - but it did. Welcome To Zamrock!, presented in two volumes, is an overview of its most beloved ensembles, and a trace of its arc from its ascension, to its fall, to its resurgence.

Hold on! Ngozi Family! We are a Zambian band, with a heavy sound! Archival reissue of Paul Ngozi’s hard-edged, proto-punk, mid-1970s Zamrock masterwork. Featuring Chrissy Zebby Tembo. First official reissue.

An explosive
compilation highlighting the era when funk and disco sounds
began to infiltrate Cameroon's Makossa style. The beat that
holds everything together originate's from the Sawa people's
rhythms. When these rhythms collided with merengue, high-life,
Congolese rumba, and, later, funk and disco, modern Makossa was
born. Makossa, the beat that long before football, managed to
unify the whole of Cameroon. Some of the greatest Makossa hits
incorporated the electrifying guitars and tight grooves of
funk, while others were laced with cosmic synth flourishes.
However, most of this music's vibe came down to the bass, and
'Pop Makossa' demonstrates why many Cameroonian bass players
are among the most revered in the world.

Special compilation from Parisian re-issue kings, Born Bad, of the late Cameroonian master musician, Francis Bebey. This is the material we were hoping would follow the excellent comp from last year. Amazing 'universal' music currently only available on expensive originals. Double album with printed innersleeve.

An astounding compilation of the breakneck Shangaan dance output of the Nozinja studio in Soweto, recorded between 2006 and 2009.

Unearthed by groove archeologist Betino Errera, this black gem was cut in Paris in 1980 by American vocalist Robert Helms. His French career being rather confidential with releases under his own name as well as Bobby Helms or simply Bobby, the Lay Down Girl album remained a well-kept secret for decades despite the fact that it contained two very strong disco-funk tunes.
Helms was backed by a seasoned studio band including Donny Donable (of Lafayette Afro Rock Band) on drums, Christophe Zadire (of Zulu Gang fame) on bass and Beckie Bell on backing vocals. The session was led by master musician Jacob Desvarieux on guitar, piano and synths, who was already at that time one of the founders of Kassav. These recordings were made under the supervision of Pierre Jaubert, who was a major player on the independent French production scene from the late 60s onward, operating his own studio, famous for also being a much appreciated meeting point for musicians. He is responsible for bringing forth works from legendary bluesmen like John Lee Hooker, Memphis Slim, Roosevelt Sykes and jazz greats including Mal Waldron, Archie Shepp and Charlie Mingus. But to funk lovers, Pierre Jaubert is mostly known for his involvement with the mythical Lafayette Afro Rock Band whose prominent breaks and riffs have been sampled by the most illustrious rappers including Public Enemy, De La Soul, Naughty by Nature, Digital Underground, Wu Tang Clan and Ice Cube to name just a few.
Today, Betino's Records reissues two very sought after tracks from the original album: "Feet On The Ground", cowritten by Desvarieux and Helms and "Sekele I Like It", written by Desvarieux and Pasteur Lappe, the latter hailing from Cameroon was the first one to record the song in 1979. In addition, both tunes get the contemporary rework treatment. Baptman and Betino editing the vocals out of "Sekele I Like It" then turning it into a very danceable Philly inspired dub. For his part, DJ Vas digs the Afrobeat seam on "Feet On The Ground", thickens the sauce with thumping bass lines and adds an "Earth Wind & Fire" feel by putting the emphasis on the horn section.
And last but not least, this 12inch pressing is limited to 700 copies worldwide.

Soul Safari presents volume Two of the Township Jive & Kwela Jazz compilation, featuring 18 rare gems from South Africa, recorded between 1930 and 1962. All titles on this compilation have been carefully handpicked from the ILAM Archives (the International Library of African Music), in Grahamstown, South Africa.

Damon Albarn & Four Tet dig this gentleman, so you should dig this forgotten master of african synth-craze, too!

The past five years have seen amapiano, South Africa's electronic music movement born in the townships of the country's Gauteng province, evolve from an underground sound to a nationwide mainstream staple. Even with its commercial success though, amapiano's DIY ethos has continued to disrupt music creation and distribution in the country. Most amapiano commercial successes today began their careers on cracked versions of production software like FL Studio, distributed their work through file sharing platforms like datafilehost and marketed it using social media pages they controlled and influenced. Amapiano Selections, the debut album by DJ and producer Teno Afrika, gives listeners outside the movement's online release economy an insight into the high-burn nature of amapiano that has spawned a distinct typology under its larger umbrella. Twenty-one-year-old Lutendo Raduvha has spent the bulk of his life moving between different townships on the outskirts of Johannesburg and Pretoria in the Gauteng province. The palette of amapiano styles on the album reflect these influences. But at first, South Africa's youngest electronic music movement lived underground with a small, loyal following. "Amapiano is a genre that I chose because I have a passion for it," says Teno "I started following amapiano in 2016 because I wanted to explore how it's produced. It was not taken seriously in our country." Interestingly, Teno Africa only gives vocals prominence on the closing track "Chants of Africa." As a way of making their music recognizable and relatable for broadcast, amapiano producers have sometimes overly relied on vocals in the form of singing, catch-phrases and party refrains for the purpose. "It was my decision not to use vocals on this project," says Teno "The reason is I wanted people to feel my instrumentals and style because this is my first album." On his closing track the young producer gives a glimpse of the considered approach to music which buoys anticipation for greater things from his future releases.

Comet presents the first release from its new Disco Highlife series, featuring remastered originals by Ghanaian legends Ebo Taylor & Pat Thomas and disco reedits by LeonxLeon and Leo Nanjo.
Founder of Comet Records, Eric Trosset, started working with those great heroes of West African music, back in 2010. Taking on the role of manager/publisher, Comet teamed up with Strut Records and musician/producer Ben Abarbanel Wolff to revive Ebo Taylor‘s international career with a string of album releases: Love & Death, Appia Kwa Bridge and Life Stories. In 2014, he collaborated with Pat Thomas & The Kwashibu Area Band on a new album, gathering together the old ‘pals’ (Ebo Taylor, Pat Thomas, Tony Allen) in producer Kwame Yeboah’s studio in Accra.
It is with great pleasure that Comet launches this new series. Let's make this beautiful and timeless music the soundtrack to an unforgettable summer!
On side A, comes “Enye Woa” by Pat Thomas, originally released in 1988 on Nakase Records and taken from the album Me Do Wiase. It’s killer disco cut, and as innovative a piece of highlife as it was 30 years ago. Paris-based producer LeonxLeon has been cooking up songs in his Parisian home-studio since 2013. He did a remarkable remix of Cerrone's "Funk Makossa" and more recently released his new Rokanbo EP on Cracki Records. His remix of “Enye Woa” is a classy modern disco cut with funky bass and spacey synths.
On side B is “Atwer Abroba” by Ebo Taylor, a stand out up-tempo track from the album Twer Nyame, originally released in 1978 on Philips West African Records. Tokyo-based multi-instrumentalist/producer/arranger Leo Nanjo formed the first Japanese afrobeat group, Kingdom Afrorocks. Since the band broke up in 2014, Leo has been producing and arranging music with various collaborations, such as DJ Muro, Pushim and Misia. This is a trippy afro-futurist, broken-beat reedit with highlife grooves flying to deep space.

Growing up in a royal household in Nigeria, Joni Haastrup began his musical journey performing for his brothers band Sneakers and was quickly snapped up as a vocalist for Orlando Julius Ekemode and his Modern Aces' Super Afro Soul LP, one of Afro-beat's formative LPs. Soon after, Ginger Baker of Cream fame replaced Steve Winwood with Joni on keys for Airforce's UK concerts in '71 and the success of the collaboration led to further shows with Baker as part of the SALT project before he returned to Nigeria to set up MonoMono. Back in London in 1978, Joni recorded his solo gem Wake Up Your Mind for the Afrodesia imprint. Coming in a Deluxe gatefold Replika LP with printed sleeves

Apiafo is a 12 tracks album, entirely recorded, mixed and mastered with old analog tapes, and played with vintage instruments, recalling the sound of bands like Poly-Rythmo De Cotonou or El Rego!

After being blown away by a few tunes – probably just as you will be after listening to this – Samy Ben Redjeb travelled to the infamous capital city of Somalia in November of 2016, making Analog Africa the frst music label to set foot in Mogadishu. On his arrival in Somalia Samy questioned the need for a vehicle full of armed chaperones casually toting Kalashnikovs, deemed necessary to accompany him to the radio station archive every morning, but then began ri?ing through piles of cassettes and listening to reel-to-reel tapes in the dusty archives of Radio Mogadishu, looking for music that ‘swam against the current’. The stars were aligned: an uncovered and unmarked pile of discarded recordings was discovered in a cluttered corner of the building. Colonel Abshir - the senior employee and protector of Radio Mogadishu’s archives - clarifed that the pile consisted mostly of music nobody had manage to identify, or music he described as being ‘mainly instrumental and strange music’. At the words ‘strange music’ Samy was hooked, the return ?ight to Tunisia was cancelled. The pile turned out to be a cornucopia of different sounds: radio jingles, background music and interludes for radio programmes, television shows and theatre plays. There were also a good number of disco tunes, some had been stripped of their lyrics, the interesting parts had been recorded multiple times then cut, taped together and spliced into a long groovy instrumental loop. Over the next three weeks, often in watermelon-, grapefruit-juice and shisha-fuelled night-time sessions behind the fortifed walls of Radio Mogadishu, Samy and the archive staff put together Mogadisco: Dancing Mogadishu - Somalia 1972–1991. Like everywhere in Africa during the 1970s, both men and women sported huge afros, bell-bottom trousers and platform shoes. James Brown, Stevie Wonder, Marvin Gaye and The Temptations’ funk were the talk of the town.In 1977, Iftin Band were invited to perform at the Festac festival in Lagos where they represented Somalia at the Second World Black and African Festival of Arts and Culture. Not only did they come back with an award, but they also returned with Afrobeat. While Fela Kuti’s ‘Shakara’ had taken over the continent and was spreading like wildfre throughout Latin America, it was the track ‘Lady’ that would become the hit in Mogadishu. At the same time Bob Marley was busy kick-starting reggae-mania in Somalia, which became such a phenomenon that even the police and military bands began playing it. Some say that it was adopted so quickly because of the strong similarities with the traditional beat from the western region of Somalia, called Dhaanto. But then suddenly the trousers got tighter as the disco tsunami hit the country. Michael Jackson appeared with a new sound that would revolutionise Somalia’s live music scene. You couldn’t walk the streets of Mogadishu without seeing kids trying to moonwalk. ‘Somalia had several nightclubs and although most use DJs to play records, some hotels like Jubba, Al-Uruba and Al Jazeera showcased live bands such as Iftin and Shareero’ – so ran a quote from a 1981 article about the explosion of Mogadishu’s live music scene. The venues mentioned in that article were the luxury hotels that had been built to cover the growing demands of the tourist industry. The state-of-the-art hotel Al-Uruba, with its oriental ornaments and white plastered walls, was a wonder of modern architecture. All of Mogadishu’s top bands performed there at some point or another, and many of the songs presented in this compilation were created in such venues. Mogadisco was not Analog Africa’s easiest project. Tracking down the musicians – often in exile in the diaspora – to interview them and gather anecdotes of golden-era Mogadishu has been an undertaking that took three years. Tales of Dur-Dur Band’s kidnapping, movie soundtracks recorded in the basements of hotels, musicians getting electrocuted on stage, others jumping from one band to another under dramatic circumstances, and soul singers competing against each other, are all stories included in the massive booklet that accompanies the compilation - adorned with no less then 50 pictures from the `70s and ‚80s. As Colonel Abshir Hashi Ali, chief don at the Radio Mogadishu archive – someone who once wrestled a bomber wielding an unpinned hand-grenade to the ?oor – put it: ‘I have dedicated my life to this place. I’m doing this so it can get to the next generation; so that the culture, the heritage and the songs of Somalia don’t disappear.’

Two funky steppers from Niki Dave & Afro Kids! First ever reissue of rare seventies music from Burundi!

Born in Matura Village, Trinidad in 1949, Doran Dorril Hector aka ''Versatile'' began his career as a guitarist in a quartet singing group called the ''Orchids'' in 1965. He first began writing and performing Calypso in 1967 for the North East Competition in Sangre Grande where he emerged 1st runner up to the Mighty Poser.

He further went on to be judged the best singing teen at the Teen Talent Competition held at Scarlet Ibis Hotel in 1968 performing Otis Redding’s ''Dreams To Remember''. The prize was a recording session at Telco Records and it was at this company that Dorril released his first record ''Dance With Me''.

In the late sixties he also began travelling as a lead singer with Ed Watson and the Brass Circle, visiting the entire English-speaking Caribbean. He also went to New York, Miami, The U.S. Virgin Islands and Guadeloupe.

In 1970 he decided to get into the Calypso genre and changed his artist name to ''Versatile''. Before getting on the front stage he began doing background vocals for several calypsonians in the Calypso tents during Carnival season. He also began to work as a background vocalist at Max Serrao’s Caribbean Sound Studios, K.H. studios and Semp studios.

After saving some money from working in the entertainment business, Dorril decided to do a self-financed recording in 1974 and recorded ''Country Boy Come To Town'' at K.H. studios in Sea Lots, Port of Spain, a calypso-pop crossover song. The song was a minor success in Trinidad.

In 1975 he went into a partnership with K.H. studios to record his next single ''Let It Out''. The song was a mixture of Calypso, Funk and African influences and served as a good example for the newly evolving musical artform called ''Soca''. However, Dorril was still unable to write down his music and arrangements for the studio musicians. Ellis Chow Lin On (then manager at K.H. studios) introduced Dorril to Pelham Goddard who had just formed his band ''Roots''. Pellham Goddard wrote down the arrangements and Roots recorded the backing track. Among the musicians were names like Clive Bradley and Michael ''Toby'' Tobas. Dorril released the record on his own ''Hector'' label.

Back in the studio in August 1977 he recorded the socio-critical song ''Destruction'', a soulful reggae tune. The backing track was recorded by Colin Lucas and his newly-formed band ''Sound Revolution''. After Carnival the following year the song became a big hit in Trinidad and the wider Caribbean and finally Dorril’s signature song.

Dorril kept recording his own material and is performing live to this day. He is also an active member of T.U.C.O. (the Trinbago Unified Calypsonians Organisation).
7'' Single (45 RPM) in picture sleeve. 2 tracks. Total playing time 7 mns.

‘Tèssassatègn Eko’ is a catchy, soulful Ethiopian jam. Originally released on
Amha AE 690 A in 1973. Arranged by the prolific Girma Beyene.

‘Ayalqem Tèdènqo’ see’s Eshèté’s third appearance in the Africa 45’s series. Released originally on Amha AE 290 A in 1971. A shuffling drum/percussion groove with soulful piano and bass, catchy vocal hook and guitar solo.

Amazing compilation of Somali music.

With the single "Everything You Do, You Do For Yourself" North-Ghanaian Kologo master Guy One opens the door to his first international release #1, which will be available end of January 2018. Guy One promises what his name is saying: he is the number one artist of Frafra music, named after his people: the Frafra.
"Everything You Do, You Do For Yourself" is his only song having a phrase in English. Here he is following the example of his collegue and friend King Ayisoba, who introduced the use of English into Frafra music a few years ago. The beat is a driving Highlife rhythm. That's the kind of groove we all love Ghana for!
On "Estre" we have special guest Florence Adooni, one of the leading voices of Frafra-Gospel. She is interweaving perfectly with the horn arrangements by Max Weissenfeldt, as well the drummer of the song, and gives after her part the lead to Mr. Guy One - yeah, the number one!

First time on vinyl.
Key producer of early South African house music and kwaito Professor Rhythm is
the production moniker of South African music man Thami Mdluli. Throughout the
1980's, Mdluli was member of chart-topping groups Taboo and CJB, playing
bubblegum pop to stadiums. Mdluli became an in-demand producer for influential
artists (like Sox and Sensations, among many others) and in-house producer for
important record companies like Eric Frisch and Tusk. During the early '80s, Mdluli
projects usually featured an instrumental dance track. These hot instrumentals
became rather popular. Fans demanded to hear more of these backing tracks
without vocals, he says, so Mdluli began to make solo instrumental albums in 1985
as Professor Rhythm. He got the name before the recordings began, from fans, and
positive momentum from audiences and other musicians drove him to invest
himself in a full-on solo project. It was the era just before the end of apartheid and
house music hadn't taken over yet. There wasn't instrumental electronic music yet
in South Afric a. As the '80s came to a close, that was about to change. Professor
Rhythm productions mirror the evolution of dance music in South Africa. They
grew out of the bubblegum mold - which itself stems from band's channeling
influences like Kool & the Gang and the Commodores - into something based on
music for the club. His early instrumental recordings First Time Around and
Professor 3 mostly distilled R&B, mbaqanga and bubblegum grooves into vocal-less
pieces for the dance floor. Musically, these were a success and commercially the
albums all went gold. There were countless bubblegum albums flooding the
marketplace, with nearly disposable vocalists backed by mostly similar-sounding
rhythm tracks. Most of the lyrical content was light and apolitical. But the
keyboards used formed the musical basis for what would come next. By the time
Professor 4 and this recording Bafana Bafana - the name references South Africa's
national soccer team - were released in the mid-1990s, k waito had fully emerged.
Access to instruments and freedom of expression helped its rise in influence
among youth. According to Mdluli, "Once Mandela was released from prison and
people felt more free to express themselves and move around town, kwaito was
becoming the thing." Lyrically, kwaito championed the local township lingo while
adapting "international music," house music, into the local context. "International
Music," as house music and early kwaito were interchangeably known, in many
ways reflects the sounds coming from America. But South Africans made it their
own. Today, the largest part of the music industry is occupied by house music and
its relatives.

“I’m an afrobeat drummer but Pat Thomas is highlife. That is what he does so well.” -Tony Allen

Coming in June, we are proud to announce the brand new studio album by one of Ghana’s all-time great vocalists, “The Golden Voice Of Africa”, Pat Thomas, in conjunction with the Kwashibu Area Band led by multi-instumentalist Kwame Yeboah (Cat Stevens, Patrice) and saxophonist Ben Abarbanel-Wolff (Ebo Taylor, Poets of Rhythm).

A regular collaborator with Ebo Taylor, Thomas was mainstay of the ‘70s and ‘80s Ghanaian highlife, afrobeat and afro-pop scenes, hitting big with the Ghana Cocoa Board-sponsored Sweet Beans band. Thomas’ new album marks over 50 years making music and reunites him with old friends: Ebo Taylor provides horn arrangements, Tony Allen contributes drums to several tracks, Osei Tutu (Hedzolleh Sounds) plays a memorable trumpet solo and prolific 1970s bassist Ralph Karikari (The Noble Kings) also features. Younger generation stars appearing include bassist Emmanuel Ofori, percussionist “Sunday” Owusu and Pat Thomas’ daughter Nanaaya, an acclaimed vocalist in her own right.

A sophomore three-tracker: singer Mbene Diatta Seck in sombre consideration of street-kids and parental neglect, buoyed by propulsive drumming and trenchant bass; a second version without vocals, laying bare the poly-rhythmic interplay between marimba and percussion; and a mesmeric six-minute instrumental, with bassist Thierno Sarr grooving out on the top string of his instrument, bringing an elusive Manding flavor to the deep Mbalax mix.

Basket of Light is the most progressive release by the British folk-rock group Pentangle. Traditional English folk songs are reinterpreted with a mix of jazz, pop and rock influences. The album opener “Light Flight” has become their signature song, which was also the theme song from BBC1’s first colour drama series Take Three Girls. With Basket Of Light, Pentangle proved they could release a progressive, ground-breaking work without keyboards, much studio trickery or even electric instruments. The original Pentangle was active in the late 1960s and early 1970s. During the recordings of Basket Of Light, line-up included Bert Jansch, John Renbourn, Terry Cox, Danny Thompson and Jacqui McShee. Basket Of Light is available as a limited edition on yellow & orange marbled vinyl, housed in a gatefold sleeve.

This instalment follows on from our acclaimed ‘Volume One’ – Lauren Laverne’s ‘Compilation Of The Week’, supported by the likes of Disclosure, Jeremy Underground, Horsemeat Disco, Hunee and Laurent Garnier. ‘Volume Two’ picks up where the last one left off — with a touch more soul and disco — records we’ve been spinning in our DJ sets and on the radio show of the same name, that inspired this series.

Compiled by David ‘Mr Bongo’ Buttle and Gareth Stephens, plus a few personal favourites from Gary Johnson, Ville Marttila and Graham Luckhurst.

TRACKLIST, VINYL 2-LP: A1. Elbernita ‘twinkie’ Clark – Awake O Zion (full length, original version) / A2. Dee Edwards – Put Your Love On The Line / A3. Anubis – Ecology / B1. Guy Cuevas – Ebony Game / B2. Kiru Stars (Julius Kang’ethe) – Family Planning / B3. Teaspoon & The Waves – Oh Yeh Soweto / C1. Leny Andrade – Não Adianta / C2. Rosa Maria – Samba Maneiro / C3. Tom & Dito – Obrigado Corcovado / C4. Inezita Barroso – Maracatu Elegante / C5. Joao Diaz – Capoeira / C6. The Equatics – Merry Go Round / D1. Elias Rahbani And His Orchestra – Liza… Liza / D2. The Beaters – Harari

A. Ayaléw Mèsfin ft. Black Lion Band - Ghedawou
Ethiopian dance floor Funk rarity originally released on Kaifa 7” (KF 31) in
1976. Hand claps, guitar lines and call and response lead vocals punctuate the
driving bass line and understated drum groove.
Mesfin played primarily at the Lumumba Club in Addis Ababa’s red light district
and released many 45’s and cassettes during the mid seventies.
He worked very closely with the Black Lion Band (or Tequr Ambessa Orchestra)
AA. Mulatu Astatke ft. Feqadu Amdé-Mesqel - Asmarina
Laid back, drum-heavy, Ethipian jazz taken from the legendary Ethio Jazz’ LP on
Amha (AELP 90). Typifies the sound of the country and the period, truly classic
stuff.
Mulatu will be touring heavily in 2016, which we are very much looking forward
to.