Search "tim bernardes" 295 Items

Sourced from the analog master tapes for the first time, Sharp-Flat presents the Witch disco albums as you've never heard them before in sleeves that replicate the original album artwork.

Over the course of the 1970s, Witch delivered an impressive run of garage, rock and prog releases. By 1980, the band was ready to embrace the exciting dance sounds of a new era. Shuffling their lineup and relocating to Zimbabwe, they undertook their mythical transformation into an African R&B, soul and funk powerhouse. With access to a state of the art recording studio in Harare, Witch produced two exquisite recordings during their disco years.

A full-throttle boogie outing, Kuomboka was issued in 1984 and features rising star Patrick Chisembele stepping in on lead vocals. Despite the album's modern vision for African pop, its title refers to a traditional migration ceremony practiced by the Lozi people of the Zambezi floodplains. The album documents a seasoned ensemble with an ambitious vision and is considered the group's sonic masterpiece.

In the wake of a 2020 edition of Movement in the City's second album Black Teardrops (1981), Sharp-Flat Records returns with a prequel by way of a reissue of the band's self-titled debut from 1979.

As the 1970s were drawing to a close, the epic Black Disco studio project with its signature pairing of drum machine and organ had run it course. After delivering a killer trilogy of cosmic lounge outings dating back to 1975, the group yearned for funkier grooves and the core trio of composer Pops Mohamed on organ with Basil Coetzee on tenor sax and Sipho Gumede on bass decided to hire a drummer and rebrand as Movement in the City. In contrast with the New Age detachment of Black Disco, Movement in the City was conceptually grounded in the bleak social realism depicted on its photographic album covers and leaned into the vivid sensibilities of library music from the era. Blending Cape jazz with funk and soul, the group's output evokes a soundtrack for South African city life at the outset of the 1980s while nodding allegorically to the subterranean movements that were in the course of shaking the cage for political change.

With its cast of jazz fusion all-stars, Movement in the City is the manifesto of a band in transition - a bold and slick first offering that delivers a modern South African sound capable of both the funky exuberances of "Mister Lucky" as well as the down-home pathos of "Blue Sunday." Restored from its original tape masters and released in partnership with As-Shams Archive and Pops Mohamed, this rare artefact of South African jazz history is back in print for the very first time since its original 1979 release.

The unbreathable air saturated with moisture, the soggy soil that swallows every step like a starving death, the hostile nature and, finally, the remote swamp. The one they invested in composing Fire Eater. The one they left a few traces in. Tracks that can talk. Six men heavily armed with instruments, a seventh fastest, only weighted by a microphone. They left the inhospitable vegetation, leaving behind a succession of footprints. As we try to follow them, the afrobeat that made it easy to spot them now dissipates into a floating mist. So, we have to connect the radars and try to capture the vintage waves of equipment that emit more than one point but several. Be attentive to jazz solos and funk scarifications, as much as to what could chant and tap on the times of these tight rhythms. Because their blending has become a personal style as much as hybrid, and it is to avoid being watched by asphyxiation that they left the stagnant waters. Escaped from the car sound systems or plastered on the walls announcing their many concerts, it is in the city that they are now detected. Infiltrating them is a daunting task. A track where you have to avoid the vigilance of the electric and venomous keyboards, escape the copper flames and the guitar shears. Enter the choking groove to finally enjoy a purely instrumental passage, sneak in and dance. Progress outside the Afro mangrove, Running The Way nevertheless retains many cables still connected. The bottom of the jeans still ‘Roforofo’. ‘Muddy’ in Yoruba. Just 2 years after the first EP Fire Eater released in 2021, Radio Nova’s crush (title Helelyos enthroned 3 months in playlist), the Roforofo Jazz returns with the LP Running The Way, 8 tracks even more ambitious, with careful production, marking a clear progression in its quest for an increasingly more personal sound and writing. Putting the listener immediately in the tone of his atypical afro jazz rap fury, Love In Time and its sharp rhythmic appeal to the power of the music, in an ultra-energetic piece yet smelling with jazz via well-felt keyboard surges. Side To Side is a rearrangement of a piece by Togolese artist Bella Bello and Manu Dibango, yet glancing towards Motown and resonating like a anthem to life and directions to take to counter the negativity of our modern societies. Then on Stand Up in a more deepfunk US style like Breakestra or The Greyboy Allstars, MC Days (aka RacecaR) switches between fast flows and downtempo in an injunction to all fight for what we believe in. An epic piece concluded with a nod to Master Hendrix… Gas punctuates the A side with a light but saving rhythmic lull, coming closer to a nu-soul atmosphere and punctuated with an explosive refrain in which rap, rock and jazz clash, tending to prove as Days chants that by being more realistic our differences can only fade…Title Shawarma has nothing to do with a Kebab sandwich, although…! Life unfolds like a menu, in which everything is not always to our liking but which teaches us to accept judicious and juicy mixes, and combinations. The result is a joint with an oriental touch, almost ethio, a rhythm that perfectly matches the hip-hop flow and the Roforofo Jazz style.The Big Hustle is a UFO. Articulated around a 20 bars loop that gives it a communicative energy, punctuated by a bass line reminiscent of Fela Kuti’s Colonial Mentality, this title sounds like a highway for frantic breakbeat dancers; epic! From Here To Benin brings us back to the group’s Afro-inspired origins, while injecting a slight dose of well-felt pop music. A piece that encourages travel to learn to share, universally. And finally, Mode For DD, a cover of the instrumental title of the obscure jazz funk of The Awakening, with added voice of Days telling the meaning of life and its mysteries, our beliefs and certainties, as human beings as well as artists.

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.

The Malian kora player and French cellist raised dust with 2011’s Chamber Music, which pulled two seemingly incompatible instruments into a startling, neoclassical fusion. Musique de Nuit maintains the momentum. While there is a formal air to pieces such as Prélude and the title track, improvisation is at the heart of the duo’s interplay – Sissoko’s rooftop in Bamako, not the studio, was the venue for half the recording. The lines between cascading kora and stately cello are wonderfully blurred at times, as the pair take turns to supply rhythm and melody, ranging across Malian mbalax on Super Étoile, Brazilian flavours on Samba Tomora and deep tradition on Diabaro, to which Babani Kone contributes wailing griot vocals. Entrancing stuff. - The Guardian.

“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.

Devoting an album entirely to the Persian poetry of Jami, aluminary of the Sufi tradition, was one of Haji Ghulam Farid Sabri"s cherished ambitions for a long time. This dream came true for the Qawwali icon when he visited Berlin in July 1991 at the invitation of the Heimatklänge ("Home Soundsfrom Home Planet Earth") festival, accompanied by his 14-year-old son Amjad. After Ghulam Sabri"s untimely death on the 5th of April 1994, Amjad Sabri became his musical successor, thereby passing on the Sufi Qawwali mastership of the Sabri family to the next generation. This all came to an end when Amjad was murdered for his Sufi beliefs in the streets of Karachi on the 22nd of June 2016. Thus, Jami is not only a memorial to the Sufi Muslim tradition and the Persian poet but also to Ghulam Farid Sabri and Amjad Sabri. It remains their only record in Farsi.

Limited edition of 200 copies for the 2023 Summer of Jazz campaign, focused on South-African jazz.

Official replica re-issue of a South African jazz-funk rarity from Teaspoon & The Waves. Released in 1977 on Soul Jazz Pop, a subsidiary label of Mavuthela Music Company / Gallo, Teaspoon & The Waves’ self-titled album is an absolute masterpiece. Best known for the song 'Oh Yeh Soweto’, which is an astonishing adaptation of Lamont Dozier's anthem 'Going Back to My Roots', this track has become a contemporary underground club classic in recent times and has been featured in sets from a cross-section of DJs. With such a massive calling card song, it could be easy to write off the album as a typical one-tracker (like so many records often are), but that is a long way from the truth. Each of the remaining four tracks are super strong and, for us here at Mr Bongo, this has to be our favourite South African record of this era. 'Saturday Express' is a jazz-funk/disco stomper which will soon be lighting up dancefloors again. 'Wind and Fire' is true afro-jazz-funk excellence, with great spacey synths and reggae-inspired guitar grooves riding throughout. The opener, 'Friday Night’, also has a slightly reggae-tinged tropical groove, whilst 'Got Me Tight' finishes off the session with a feel-good jazz-funk workout that features cool, quirky, Patrick Adams-esque synths. Saxophonist Teaspoon Ndlela has had an amazing and rich musical career. Releasing albums on records labels Soul Jazz Pop, Hit Special, Gallo GRC, alongside working with and writing for South African artists such as Mpharanyana, Stimela, Sipho Gumede and Sgu. He also features on the Paul Simon track 'Gumboots' taken from the iconic 'Graceland' project. Though best known for 'Oh Yeh Soweto' we hope this re-issue helps demonstrate that there is much more magic in this wonderful musician's repertoire to discover.

The fifth volume of Alhaji Waziri Oshomah"s five-part Volume Series.After the recent celebrated release of the first three parts in his Volume Series, Etsako Super Star and Godfather of Afemai Music Alhaji Waziri Oshomah returns with Vol. 5.Along with the other four volumes of the series, Vol. 5 is now available-for the very first time!-as part of a complete set (in a box): Vol 1 - 5 (1978 - 1985).

The fourth volume of Alhaji Waziri Oshomah"s five-part Volume Series.This release follows World Spirituality Classics 3: The Muslim Highlife of Alhaji Waziri Oshomah (September 23, 2022), which received killer reviews from Uncut (8/10), MOJO, and Pitchfork (7.2), calling it "therapy, worship, ecstasy."Along with the other four volumes of the series, Vol. 4 is now available-for the very first time!-as part of a complete set (in a box): Vol 1 - 5 (1978 - 1985).

The third volume of Alhaji Waziri Oshomah"s five-part Volume Series.On the heels of his already critically acclaimed (yes, already!) retrospective, World Spirituality Classics 3: The Muslim Highlife of Alhaji Waziri Oshomah, Alhaji Waziri Oshomah - the Oyoyo King, the Godfather of Afemai Music, the Etsako Super Star, Mr. Please Please Please, Mr. Dynamite - returns with Vol. 3.Along with the other four volumes of the series, Vol. 3 is now available-for the very first time!-as part of a complete set (in a box): Vol 1 - 5 (1978 - 1985).

The second volume of Alhaji Waziri Oshomah"s five-part Volume Series.On the heels of his already critically acclaimed (yes, already!) retrospective, World Spirituality Classics 3: The Muslim Highlife of Alhaji Waziri Oshomah, Alhaji Waziri Oshomah - the Oyoyo King, the Godfather of Afemai Music, the Etsako Super Star, Mr. Please Please Please, Mr. Dynamite - returns with Vol. 2.Along with the other four volumes of the series, Vol. 2 is now available-for the very first time!-as part of a complete set (in a box): Vol 1 - 5 (1978 - 1985).

The first volume of Alhaji Waziri Oshomah"s five-part Volume Series.On the heels of his already critically acclaimed (yes, already!) retrospective, World Spirituality Classics 3: The Muslim Highlife of Alhaji Waziri Oshomah, Alhaji Waziri Oshomah - the Oyoyo King, the Godfather of Afemai Music, the Etsako Super Star, Mr. Please Please Please, Mr. Dynamite - returns with Vol. 1.Along with the other four volumes of the series, Vol. 1 is now available-for the very first time!-as part of a complete set (in a box): Vol 1 - 5 (1978 - 1985).

Born Aaron Livingston, Grammy Award winning Son Little unleashes his album Like Neptune never sounding stronger or more confident than now, showcasing his original vision of r&b, informed by his love for hip-hop imbued with tinges of funk, pop, and psychedelia. While Little"s collaborations with The Roots and Rjd2 had already helped him make a name for himself by that point in his adopted hometown of Philadelphia, critics on both sides of the pond were quick to recognize the unique power of Little"s solo recordings, which stripped the past for parts that could be reconstituted into something wholly new and original. NPR hailed Little"s "impeccably crafted songs" as "honest and unpretentious," while The Independent proclaimed him "a formidable talent," and Vice declared that he was "dissolving the barrier between R&B and rock "n" roll one tearjerker at a time."

This summer sees the return of the unique cross-continental collaboration between Ghanain xylophonist Isaac Birituro and his band of live international musicians, The Rail Abandon. Having created something of a buzz back in 2019 with their debut albumKalba- gaining support along the way fromGilles Peterson,Cerys MatthewsandTom Ravenscroftto name but a few - and after something of a hiatus, the duo teased us earlier this spring with theLapaz EPin preparation for their new LP,Small Small.

Small Smallis a very Ghanaian saying, a direct translation to English, which is used in a wide variety of contexts to mean 'bit by bit,' 'one step at a time' or 'slow and steady'. Vocalist and musician Sonny Johns, from The Rail Abandon, was first introduced to the phrase on his initial trip to Ghana in 2016, when he met Isaac in Kalba, and the phrase has popped up over and over ever since.

"Any second album is a difficult process –how do you make something that follows on from the first but is different enough? It's particularly difficult when your first album was made under the unique conditions of having never played together, in unusual surroundings. It is also difficult when you live on different continents from each other. To add to those difficulties, we had to make a record in the middle of a pandemic. Fortunately, just before the world was locked down, we'd written and recorded the basis of the album over 3 days while on tour in Germany, October 2019. Then Isaac and the Rail Abandon went about adding their own musicians to the recordings in Ghana and the UK respectively, bringing everyone together via the internet instead of physically. Everyone involved had been hit dramatically during this period, some physically, some financially, all emotionally.

The rise of the BLM movement during this period also made a big impact on a project designed to unite people, bring equality and encourage mutual respect. The death of Tony Allen also hit us hard early in this period too -Tony (also of maternal Ghanaian heritage) was a person who united West African and European musics and cultures seamlessly and was instrumental in bringing together (indirectly) the music of Isaac Birituro & The Rail Abandon. So, we finished this albumSmall Smallover the intense year of 2020 influenced by the difficulties that we, and the world, have been through. The album is about loss, frustration and struggle, but it's also about the light at the end of the tunnel; about overcoming difficulties to find a brighter future and no matter what separates us, whether that be language, culture, continents or borders, when we listen to each other and learn from each other, there's really not much that can keep us apart. So from everyone involved, here's to a brighter future." Sonny Johns from The Rail Abandon.

The Rail Abandon is a play on the name Rail band - the short title ofThe Super Rail Band of the Buffet Hotel de la Gare, Bamako -a band from Bamako, Mali including such greats as Salif Keita and the more importantly the guitarist Dejimady Tounkara. Inspired by his playing the group were given the moniker The Rail Abandon as a way to release music without a face, specific name or singer. The line up is different depending on the music. Due to a joint love of African musics from across the continent, the core at the moment is Sonny Johns on vocals and guitar, Raph Clarkson on trombone and keyboards, and Israeli musician Yuval Wetlzer on drums and percussion, but it can incorporate any, all, none or more than these people.

As well as the core group, the album also features a number of special guests, including Ghanaian powerhouse vocalist Wiyaala; UK based Afrobeat Ambassador Dele Sosimi; the incredible Queen Ayesha and South African singer Nosihe.

In 2020, Sahel Sounds hosted a project called Music from Saharan WhatsApp. This series consisted of ephemeral digital EPs, documenting live performances by some of the most exciting acts in the Sahel playing music, including Nigerién techno, wedding rock, Woodabe guitar, WZN, traditional music, Mandingue music, and more. Responding to an open call from our network of artists, musicians recorded a handful of tracks on their cellphone and sent them over the popular mobile app WhatsApp. Each session was hosted for a month on Bandcamp and sold on a sliding scale, with all profits wired directly to the musicians. After a month, the EP would disappear, replaced by another one. Now, some of the label's favorite tracks from this series are collected for the first time outside of Bandcamp as the Music from Saharan WhatsApp compilation LP. This LP features tracks by established Sahel Sounds artists such as Etran de L'Aïr, Hama, Alkibar Jr, Amaria Hamadaler (of Les Filles de Illighadad), and artists new to the label like Bounaly and Andal Sukabe.

African, funky, sarcastic, bewitching, green, ecstatic: these words collide to describe Vaudou Game and all of them are true. Noussin is the fourth album of the french Afro Funk band. Forced into lockdown, like much of the planet, Peter Solo and his Vaudou Game had no choice but to retreat into the studio. A reunion to once again invoke the spiritual forces of the Voodoo Deities. A reunion that was Initially imagined for an EP…yet these spiritual forces behind that imagination yearned for something more, and as we all know, these forces are impossible to push away once they have decided to stay. Under the strain enforced by the current socioeconomic climate, as much as by the environmental peril that faces us all today - they diverted the course of the groove towards daring new vibrations. Without extinguishing or diminishing its highly communicative power, they released Vaudou Game from its origins of pure Afro-Funk to gradually engage into compositions which crystallized themselves into tones resembling more rock than funk. On this fourth album, with an entirely revisited line-up, Peter Solo separates for the first time in his career from his brassy guard, leaving saxophone, trumpet and trombone outside to invite an arsenal of keyboards to define, with him, this new voodoo sound. A sound, as usual, built on vintage and precise analogical material - grime even on the white side of the tape, a blunt instrument used to blanket anything that strived to shine too much in the mix. Graced with tapered guitars stringing out rhythmic bumps or withdrawing a few beats to indulge in infectious solos, this album is boisterously alive with vintage 70's Funk, infused with a few digressions into other ethers of the funk timeline, nicking different sounds and frequencies to render the black and white keys of an inspired keyboard to reach new euphoric levels of melodic acidity. Tearing off the enigmatic mask to reveal his true face: on a few titles, Peter Solo ventures outside of his sacred voodoo range to reconnect with his London years, these titles feature small nods to the time he spent in “The Smoke” where the incantations of British music culture were written within him. Noussin which means “Stay strong” in Mina, a dialect spoken in the south-west of Togo. Noussin, a message of hope as much as a call to come together to weather the turmoil and to come out better on the other side. Don’t let them grind you down…Noussin!

Ayalew Mesfin stands aside the likes of Mulatu Astake, Mahmoud Ahmed, Hailu Mergia and Alemayehu Eshete as a legend of 1970s Ethiopia. Mesfin’s music is some of the funkiest to arise from this unconquerable East African nation. Mesfin’s recording career, captured in nearly two dozen 7” singles and numerous reel-to-reel tapes, shows the strata of the most fertile decade in Ethiopia’s 20th century recording industry, when records were pressed constantly by both independent upstarts and corporate behemoths, even if they were only distributed within the confines of this East African nation. Though Mesfin was forced underground by the Derg regime that took control of Ethiopia in 1974, he has returned almost 50 years later with this triumphant set albums – the first time that his music has been presented in this form. These albums give us a chance to discover a rare and beautiful moment in music history, in anthologies built from Mesfin’s uber-rare 7” single releases and from previously unreleased recordings taken from master tapes. Mot Aykerim gives us a chance to discover a rare & beautiful moment in music history, in an anthology built from his uber-rare 7” single releases. Contains an oversized 11” x 11” 16 page book that tells the story of modern Ethiopian music and Mesfin’s role within it.

Ayalew Mesfin stands aside the likes of Mulatu Astake, Mahmoud Ahmed, Hailu Mergia and Alemayehu Eshete as a legend of 1970s Ethiopia. Mesfin’s music is some of the funkiest to arise from this unconquerable East African nation. Mesfin’s recording career, captured in nearly two dozen 7” singles and numerous reel-to-reel tapes, shows the strata of the most fertile decade in Ethiopia’s 20th century recording industry, when records were pressed constantly by both independent upstarts and corporate behemoths, even if they were only distributed within the confines of this East African nation. Though Mesfin was forced underground by the Derg regime that took control of Ethiopia in 1974, he has returned almost 50 years later with this triumphant set albums – the first time that his music has been presented in this form. These albums give us a chance to discover a rare and beautiful moment in music history, in anthologies built from Mesfin’s uber-rare 7” single releases and from previously unreleased recordings taken from master tapes. Wegene gives us a chance to discover a rare & beautiful moment in music history, in an anthology built from his uber-rare 7” single releases. Contains an oversized 11” x 11” 16 page book that tells the story of modern Ethiopian music and Mesfin’s role within it.

Ayalew Mesfin stands aside the likes of Mulatu Astake, Mahmoud Ahmed, Hailu Mergia and Alemayehu Eshete as a legend of 1970s Ethiopia. Mesfin’s music is some of the funkiest to arise from this unconquerable East African nation. Mesfin’s recording career, captured in nearly two dozen 7” singles and numerous reel-to-reel tapes, shows the strata of the most fertile decade in Ethiopia’s 20th century recording industry, when records were pressed constantly by both independent upstarts and corporate behemoths, even if they were only distributed within the confines of this East African nation. Though Mesfin was forced underground by the Derg regime that took control of Ethiopia in 1974, he has returned almost 50 years later with this triumphant set albums – the first time that his music has been presented in this form. These albums give us a chance to discover a rare and beautiful moment in music history, in anthologies built from Mesfin’s uber-rare 7” single releases and from previously unreleased recordings taken from master tapes. Tewedije Limut gives us a chance to discover a rare & beautiful moment in music history, in an anthology built from his uber-rare 7” single releases. Contains an oversized 11” x 11” 16 page book that tells the story of modern Ethiopian music and Mesfin’s role within it.

Ayalew Mesfin stands aside the likes of Mulatu Astake, Mahmoud Ahmed, Hailu Mergia and Alemayehu Eshete as a legend of 1970s Ethiopia. Mesfin’s music is some of the funkiest to arise from this unconquerable East African nation. Mesfin’s recording career, captured in nearly two dozen 7” singles and numerous reel-to-reel tapes, shows the strata of the most fertile decade in Ethiopia’s 20th century recording industry, when records were pressed constantly by both independent upstarts and corporate behemoths, even if they were only distributed within the confines of this East African nation. Though Mesfin was forced underground by the Derg regime that took control of Ethiopia in 1974, he has returned almost 50 years later with this triumphant set albums – the first time that his music has been presented in this form. These albums give us a chance to discover a rare and beautiful moment in music history, in anthologies built from Mesfin’s uber-rare 7” single releases and from previously unreleased recordings taken from master tapes. Good Aderegechegn gives us a chance to discover a rare & beautiful moment in music history, in an anthology built from his uber-rare 7” single releases. Contains an oversized 11” x 11” 16 page book that tells the story of modern Ethiopian music and Mesfin’s role within it.

For his eighth album, Lucas Santtana returns to guitar-voice simplicity, in the spirit of his tropicalist peers (Gilberto Gil, Tom Zé or Caetano Veloso). At a time when everyone shouts very loudly, when no one wants to listen to the other, he decides to whisper in people's ears. He looks for the points of intersection between the intimate and the political and social situation, very degraded in Brazil since the election of the populist president of the extreme right Jair Bolsonaro. Surrounded by a young creative guard(Jaloo, Linn da Quebrada, DUDA BEAT)and Juçara Marçal (Meta Meta), he offers a peaceful album in the face of the profound disruptions of retrograde societies and ideas. He thus delivers a free, airy, poetic record, because "even if the times are obscure, they will pass, because everything is cyclical. Hence the name of the disc: "the sky has been old for a long time".

HHV exclusive vinyl edition on yellow vinyl, limited to 100 copies. Only available at hhv.de!

When the U.S. State Department announced in the mid-1970s that they were sponsoring a South African tour for the Oklahoma-born, Paris-based saxophonist Hal Singer, producer Rashid Vally took note. Even though his nascent record label As-Shams/The Sun (established in 1974) was making waves on the local scene, the idea of commissioning a recording from an international artist was a ballsy idea. With a discography that stretched back to the 1950s, Hal Singer was already somewhat of a legacy artist by 1976. Vally was well-versed on Singer’s accomplishments and specifically enamoured by his composition “Blue Stompin’,” which appeared on a Prestige album from 1959 that had struck a chord in South Africa. With his irresistible charm, Vally managed to coax Singer into a studio in Johannesburg, South Africa, to record a new version of “Blue Stompin’” with South African sax star Kippie Moeketsi, which became the title track of a 1977 album by Moeketsi. The recording session also yielded an album’s worth of new material by Hal Singer and his quartet that took its name from a track inspired by Singer’s trip to South Africa entitled “Soweto to Harlem.” Released in 1976 and only available in South Africa, Soweto to Harlem captures a laid-back, cheeky and nostalgic rhythm and blues set from the Hal Singer Quartet that is unlikely to have emerged for a different target market. With her irresistible charm, Vally was able to convince Singer to enter a Johannesburg studio. The recording session produced this album of new material by Hal Singer and his quartet named after a song inspired by Singer's trip to South Africa, entitled "Soweto to Harlem." Released in 1976 and available only in South Africa, "Soweto to Harlem" captures a laid-back, unabashed and nostalgic rhythm and blues of Hal Singer's quartet that would hardly have been born for a different market. Cinedelic’s 2024 edition of this rare album is sourced from the original tape masters and presents it on vinyl internationally for the very first time. The reissue follows Singer’s passing at the 100 in August 2020 as we contemplate and celebrate his extraordinary contribution to jazz in the United States and beyond.

From Osaka! The legendary Japanese Afrobeat band strongly influenced by Fela Kuti is finally available on vinyl!! The origin of the band was inspired by the Afrobeat movement that was emerging in Brooklyn at the time, a music of African origin in the vein of jazz, soul, funk, and other genres. The band initially had about five members, but grew to a maximum of 14. Bunvestoro's only two songs were recorded for BunBun the MC's "Tribe Called West Vol. 2" in 2007 and a 12" single cut from that album, but in 2024, the unreleased material that was recorded at the time will finally be released after more than a decade!!

First reissue since 1979 of Ivorian Jimmy Hyacinthe's debut. Remastered for the first time.Know for modernizing "Goly",a traditional Ivorian rhthm.Became the youngest professional guitarist from Ivory Coast .First in a serie of reissues from Badmos Records

Titi Bakorta almost didn't make it. Born in and raised in: Kinshasa, the Congolese multi instrumentalist was on his way to Uganda when he fell of the boat as it traversed the Format: mighty Congo River. Unable to swim, Bakorta was saved by a friend who dragged him to the closest city Kisangani, where he was unexpectedly acquainted with local singer Dancer Papalas. Soon they were performing in bands together, traveling across the continents and settling in Tanzania, South Sudan and Dubai o they even appeared in front of General Defao, the beloved Congolese vocalist who fronted legendary soukous bands Grand Zaiko Wawa, Choc Stars and Big Stars. Now based in Kampala, Bakorta offers his own unique take on Congolese pop and folk sounds, weaving traditional elements through a psychedelic lattice of guitar loops, mangled voices and eccentric beatbox rhythms on his debut full-length. He bends woodblock snaps on 'Kop' into stuttered blurs, wailing emotionally over twanging riffs and bizarre, theatrical xylophone twinkles. It's still pop music on some level, but curved around Bakorta's unwieldy personal narrative - there's a sense that everything could unravel at any time but it all hangs together, strengthened by Bakorta's confident, contemporary production smarts. 'Elles Vais' is more airy, with celestial soukous vocals that float above tight, electronic drums. Tangled guitar echoes overlap each other like dense, weaved tapestries, contrasting perfectly with Bakorta's urgent, driving pulse. Occasionally, he transcends completely, like on 'Molende' where his chants and phrases neatly flutter between praise music and contemporary R8B. "Hustling, hustling, hustling, everyday I'm hustling," an angelic voice coos over phased electric guitar plucks and looped, AutoTuned chorals.It makes perfect sense that Bakorta should team up with 7 Metal Preyers' Jesse Hackett on the album's final track, the aptly-titled 'Titis Haunted House'. The two artists share a similar obsession with moonlit, carnivalesque soundscapes, and...

Reissue of the 1988 zouk album Pa Flipé by Odissey.

Odissey is a group formed by the Adams brothers (Pascal and Richie), born in Paris to a mother from Guadeloupe and a father from Martinique. At the time, Pascal was a DJ and radio presenter and Richard was a guitarist, both being trained singers. They had been making demo's for some time when one day they met Jolème Narayadou who was a well-known producer in the country, specialized in charming music who wanted to produce something other than slow and bolero (very popular music at the time). The three ventured in the studio and this resulted in the album Pa flipé (which is a Creole expression which means don't be afraid).

The tune Marie Hélène was a hit and is one of the great successes of Zouk in Martinique. The song is about a man in love with an Indian girl and takes place in Martinique, a small island in the French West Indies which saw the birth of Aimé Césaire but also Jean-Philippe Marthély, Jocelyne Béroard, Jean-Claude Naimro from the Kassav group, the legendary band which was born in Guadeloupe and which has toured the world multiple times.

Check the stand out songs : "Viré Love" & "Songe"

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.

Sourced from the analog master tapes for the first time, Sharp-Flat presents the Witch disco albums as you've never heard them before in sleeves that replicate the original album artwork.

Over the course of the 1970s, Witch delivered an impressive run of garage, rock and prog releases. By 1980, the band was ready for a new chapter. Shuffling their lineup and relocating to Zimbabwe, they undertook their mythical transformation into an African R&B, soul and funk powerhouse. With access to a state of the art recording studio in Harare, Witch produced two exquisite albums from 1980 to 1984.

With crisp beats, funky bass, swirling synths and tight horns, 1980's Movin' On was a sharp departure from the group's Zamrock roots and made no bones about the fact that the Witch was ready to embrace the sound and spirit of a new decade. Trading lead vocals with founding member Chris Mbewe are newcomers Christine Jackson and Stanford Tembo, making for a well rounded set that combines dance floor burners with mid-tempo boogie grooves. A carefully crafted, great sounding album from a seasoned ensemble, Movin' On is an African pop classic.

For fans of: Maya Andina, Atahualpa Yupanqui, Luzmila Carpio, Renata Flores, Nicola Cruz, Illapu, Bolivia Manta, Polibio Mayorga, Mala Fama, EVHA, Cruzloma.The concept of "getting back to your roots" rarely has such a literal meaning, or at the same time such an ancestral meaning, as in the case of the Ecuadorian group Humazapas. Usually in the music industry this concept is used when an artist returns to a past sound, going back to that moment of newness, exploration and ingenuity, perhaps. But not Humazapas. These natives of the Kichwa communities of the Ecuadorian Andes, who have been working on this project for a decade, see "getting back to your roots" as a profound connection with their cultures, language, dance, the rituals that connect them to their deities and, of course, music. Humazapas was formed in 2010, when twelve teenagers from the Kichwa communities of Turuku, San Pedro, Jatun Topo and Anrabí decided to salvage the sounds and ritual dances of the Kichwa communes at the foot of the Tayta Imbabura and Mama Cutakachi volcanoes. The group explores an ancestral exercise translated into the fusion of native musics and contemporary structures, proposing the continuity of the art of the ancestral peoples and nationalities of Ecuador in future generations. Like a sound document, it also ties in dance and the audiovisual arts to translate an experience through the journey of a seed that is born from the earth, sprouts from it and whose fruit has fed, and will continue to feed, generations for centuries. After over a decade of research and interest in returning to ancestral knowledge, the group made up of eight musicians and four dancers, weaving in their discourse the cosmovision of community life with people, nature and the world of the deities, finally release their debut record Sara Mama, which translates as "Mother Corn" in English. Corn is one of the sacred grains that conceals knowledge in its crop and the magic of the rituals of raising, nurturing and celebrating life, from preparing th...

Official Afrodelic reissue of the ultra-rare Tunde Mabadu’s debut album. Originally released in 1978 on Blackspot label (DECCA's West Africa division), Bisu, which includes the supergroovy ‘Red Jeans’, differs from the later 1980 ‘Viva Disco’ album by a much more pure African style. A beautiful and soulful production in which Tunde's deep voice and sax move on the excellent horns arrangements, percussions, the wahwah rhythm guitar and weird keyboards and synths (at times psychedelic as in the ‘Blue Bird’ 9 minutes). As wrote on the original liner notes of the era “His music will mesmerize you from the first track. A dedicated Musician especially to his African Roots with so much to offer Musically”.

In the musical universe of the Brazilian singer-songwriter Raphael Gimenes, wild landscapes are metaphors for unspoken feelings. The Copenhagen-based artist writes hauntingly visual, and poetically surrealistic stories, in which he can be hunted by sun-kissing jaguars, chased by thirstyhorizons, become a kaleidoscope of butterflies, or turn into dream-singing birds. His 2016 debut album, "Raphael Gimenes & As Montanhas de Som", was elected the best Brazilian album of 2016 by the Dutch website Written in Music, received 5 stars on Jazzism, and was hailed as a "conceptual masterpiece" by the Japanese magazine Latina.His sophomore release, "A tongue full of suns", is co-produced by the Faroese singer-songwriter Teitur, who also features on synths. On this new album, Gimenes explores his non-Brazilian influences and his life outside of Brazil. The songs are sung in English, a language that he learned when he lived in the United States as a boy. The lyrics are inspired by the mountainous landscapes of Jotunheimen, Norway, where he goes trekking on a yearly basis. The production and the arrangements draw heavily on sounds he heard on vintage European prog rock bands, particularly Yes and PFM. The music itself does not stray far from the universe of his debut album, but the songs do take more symphonic, progressive forms, while the Brazilian rhythms are substituted by the more meditative, minimalistic tabla played by the German musician Jan Kadereit. "A tongue full of suns" also features two guitar virtuosos from Argentina and the Netherlands: Matias Arriazu and Tim Panman.The fictitious story behind the concept album is presented as a poetic short text written by Gimenes himself: "These are the last songs written by The Painter, a broken-hearted sorcerer who disappeared on a journey of self-discovery in the vast canvas of the great wild. They were found floating above the silence of an ageless rock, in a valley of slumbering glaciers. It is said that on his odyssey, he learned the hypnotic dialects of t...

In the late Congolese musician Lumingu Zorro, protégé of Kinshasa’s legendary 60s band leader Dr Nico, recorded Mosese, his only pre-2000 solo album, for the Tabansi label- and this is it.CHAMPETA STORM WARNING! The first-ever reissue of one of West Africa’s best-kept rumba-soukous secrets- as well as being one of the most in-demand titles on Colombia’s booming Champeta sound system scene, where a rare record is protected as fiercely as on the Northern Soul or Jamaican sound system scenes, the label scratched off, the record hidden from view when not on the turntable.Possibly one of the strongest and most consistent Congo dancefloor albums ever recorded perfectly balanced between voices, horns, guitars and percussion.Which is why original copies of this all-time rumba rarity almost never reach the open market, being traded between Colombia’s champeta picoteros (sound system selectors) instead.In Kinshasa they say ‘Miziki ezelaki eleng ndeko’- ‘Sweet music, brother!’. Roger that

Composer/arranger/producer Etienne de la Sayette is a frenetic globe-trotter and a relentless collector of musical instruments. Founder and headhunter of, among others, the Frix and Baeshi Bang groups, co-founder/saxophonist for Parisian Ethio-Jazz band Akalé Wubé, Etienne might mostly be a live musician, he manages nonetheless to find the time for audio production, remixes and synch music. 'Maputo Queens' is his first solo album, a deep afrojazz masterpiece for thoughful moods and after-hours atmospheres, with some masterful blends of spices from all over the globe.