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After two hip-hop albums (Got To Get Down in 2016 and Impact in 2017), the unpredictable Afro Latin Vintage Orchestra comes back to its fundamentals with a new instrumental album: MORPHEUS which repositions the band in the spirit of their previous spatial, almost cosmic albums Last Odyssey (2012) and Pulsion (2015), both released on Ubiquity Records and acclaimed by spiritual and fusion jazz lovers, library music fans, as well as rare grooves diggers (ALVO’s first 4 vinyl albums now being out of stock).
Each new ALVO new release is a millesimal which evolved and learned from its predecessors. Masta Conga, who’s still leading the herd, has for main purpose to explore the musical space-time, gaining ground on never before revealed tracks, followed by his now faithful team of atypical and farseeing musicians.
Compared to Miles Davis and his On The Corner by Wax Poetics, the band dives again in this “realm of psychedelia and beyond”, in particular with the contribution of Indian musicians. Twirling around violins, superimposed patchy keyboards and effects, just as if their conductor wasn’t already sufficiently influenced by Pierre Boulez and others such as Hiroshi Murakami…
The result is however more uncluttered and loaded with multiple vibes than its predecessor Pulsion, which already carried the ceremonial characteristics of cult movie soundtracks. Tracks “Moksha”, “Air” and “Morpheus” are the perfect demonstration, and far beyond their names. Simple grooves, lunar, but terribly efficient, emphasized by a mix that puts focus on these fiddly contributions of ethnic instruments, on percussions and horns on a drip of delay, reverbs and other space-echoes.
On the other side, the very rhythmic “Descarga Uno”, “Descarga Dos” and “Super Dopamine” show that the Parisian crew hasn’t lost its good habit to look around latin, ternary, and syncopated rhythms, in the ALVO only style!
A new millésime, a Grand Cru maybe, but for sure to taste and appreciate in all weathers including space ones.

Ahemaa Nwomkro, which means queens of Nwomkro, are Victoria Osei and Theresa Owusuaa. Nwomkro is an old Ashanti musical style, which played an influential role in the origin of the typical more roots-like Highlife style of Kumasi, the cultural capital of Ghana in the middle of the jungle.
On this release the two singers have teamed up with the young generation of Highlife muicians of Kumasi. On guitar is Akule Pepe, who served for years in the group of Highlife legend Alex Konadu, the most on demand band in its time. The two songs are a rare example of how good pure Nwomkro gets together with typical Highlife.

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.

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.

There is always a good backstory to the music that Emotional Rescue releases and this EP is a case in point. It comes from Betty & The Code Red and Betty was the girlfriend of Tunde Obazee, a Nigerian-born artist who used music as a "non-violent tool to express his socio-political opinions on global injustice." The pair would entertain people on campus by playing anything they could get their hands on, informed by the old Edo folk songs they had grown up around. They went on to live in Italy and the US and start a family as well as lay down self-released songs that have become cult classics. A selection of them feature on this, the first of two EPs from the pair.

Analog Africa No. 21 „bitori“ - Legend Of Funaná (The Forbidden Music of The Cape Verde Islands) - In 1997, a quiet, unassuming man of 59 years old named Victor Tavares - better know as Bitori - walks into a studio for the very first time to record a masterpiece which many Cabo Verdean consider to be the best Funaná album ever made.

Bitoris musical adventure had begun long before this point. It was 1954 when he embarked on a journey across the seas to the island of Sao Tomé & Principe. The young man´s hope was to return to Cabo Verde with an accordion.

Following two years of hard labour Bitori had succeeded in saving enough money to acquire what was to become his most valued possession, his cherished instrument. The two month journey back to Santiago, his island of birth, proved time enough to master it. Self taught, Bitori developed his own style, an infectious blaze, that quickly caught the attention of the older generation. Before long Bitori was being asked to share his musical talents, igniting the local festivities around Praia with his music.

But not everybody welcomed the rural accordion-based sound. Perceived as a symbol of the struggle for Cape Verdean independence and frowned upon as music of uneducated peasants, Funaná was prohibited by the Portuguese colonial rulers. Performing it in public or in urban centres had serious consequences - often jail time and torture awaited musicians that were “caught in the act”. In light of such persecution the genre of Funaná began to slowly disappear.

In 1975 Cabo Verde achieved independence from Portuguese colonial rule. Along with Cabo Verde’s independence came a lifting of the ban placed on Funaná. The musical repercussions in Cabo Verde were plenty - many upcoming artists embraced Funaná, translating and adapting its musical form in new ways. It was not to be until the mid-1990’s, however, that Funaná in its traditional form was actually recorded.

It was a young singer from Tarafal, Chando Graciosa, who was to play a key role in this event. Upon hearing Bitori, Graciosa immediately felt drawn to Bitori's unique playing style - a raw and passionate sound accompanied by honest lyrics that reflected the harsh reality of the Cabo Verdean working class. He eagerly approached Bitori suggesting they join forces and travel overseas with the objective of taking Funaná beyond its rural roots. The two of them, with others in tow, achieved their goal and travelled to Europe, introducing a receptive European audience to the vibrant energy of Funaná. Eventually Bitori returned to his beloved Cabo Verde. Graciosa opted to settle in Rotterdam in order to pursue his career - he vowed, however, to bring Bitori across to Holland at a later date to record an album.

In 1997 the time was ripe to immortalise the sound Bitori had shaped over a time span of four decades. Built around a formidable rhythm section, formed of drummer Grace Evora and bass player Danilo Tavares, "Bitori Nha Bibinha" was recorded. The recording catapulted Chando Graciosa to stardom, making him Cabo Verde´s No.1 interpreter of Funaná.

The success in Cabo Verde was phenomenal and Funaná rapidly gained the recognition it deserved, especially in urban dance clubs. Bitori´s songs quickly became standards - classics known and loved throughout the country. The musical success, however, was solely limited to the Cabo Verdean islands - until now!

Analog Africa is proud to contribute to the worldwide promotion of Funaná - the once forbidden sound of the Cabo Verde archipelago - by releasing a worldwide re-issue of Bitori and Chando Graciosa´s legendary recording. The release will herald Bitori´s first European tour taking place during the summer of 2016. Watch this space! And listen!

Nigerian classic Black Children Sledge Funk Group 1976’s debut album full of positive vibrations and feel-good grooves! A sunny blend of Reggae and Afro-Funk with a lot of percussions, psychedelic and rhythmic guitar and organ. In the mid-seventies in Nigeria everybody loved them. Pride of 70’s Africa Repressed for the first time.

Caiphus Semenya, AKA Mr Letta Mbulu, is a South African legend, and Listen To The Wind, his iconic debut album, is simply a superb modern-soul/boogie album. It’s also incredibly rare, especially in good condition, so Be With is delighted to present this reissue. Now a revered composer, musician, and arranger, Caiphus left apartheid South Africa in the 60s for self-imposed exile in Southern California together with his wife, Letta Mbulu. Settling in Los Angeles he started working with the likes of Hugh Masekela and Miriam Makeba and other exiled and semi-exiled South african artists, as well as, of course, his wife Letta. Caiphus also found himself working with and composing for a broad range of jazz and pop artists, including Lou Rawls, Nina Simone and Cannonball Adderley. His facility with both jazz and African forms served him well. His LA stay was also the beginning of an ongoing collaboration with Quincy Jones, the fruits of which can be tasted in Caiphus’s African compositions for the scores to Roots and Spielberg’s adaptation of The Color Purple. Given his decades of work behind the scenes, it’s no surprise that it took until 1982 for Caiphus to get around to putting out the first album of his own. But all that experience shows.

Caiphus Semenya, AKA Mr Letta Mbulu, is a South African legend and Streams Today.......Rivers Tomorrow, his second solo LP, is perfect. A ten out-of ten album if ever we heard one. It’s also incredibly rare, especially in good condition, so Be With is delighted to present this reissue. Now a revered composer, musician, and arranger, Caiphus left apartheid South Africa in the 60s for self-imposed exile in Southern California together with his wife, Letta Mbulu. Settling in Los Angeles he started working with the likes of Hugh Masekela and Miriam Makeba and other exiled and semi-exiled South african artists, as well as, of course, his wife Letta. Caiphus also found himself working with and composing for a broad range of jazz and pop artists, including Lou Rawls, Nina Simone and Cannonball Adderley. His facility with both jazz and African forms served him well. His LA stay also the beginning of an ongoing collaboration with Quincy Jones, the fruits of which can be tasted in Caiphus’s African compositions for the scores to Roots and Spielberg’s adaptation of The Color Purple. Originally released in 1984, Streams Today.......Rivers Tomorrow is not just a musical masterpiece, it is also the soundtrack to the life of many South Africans - both then and now. Fusing the US-heavy sounds of boogie, disco and funk with Afrobeat and traditional African elements, it’s truly a spectacular listen. Jabu Nkosi handles keyboards on the album, with synths by Caiphus and Craig Harris. Sipho Gumede is on bass and Condry Ziqubu is on guitars. The Afro-Cuban grooves of “Mamase” open the record. Continuing where Listen To The Wind left off, this is another horn-heavy call-and-response ode to a positive life.

Sol Power Sound is back in a big way with a reissue and remix EP from the legendary Nigerian Ju-Ju king, Chief Commander Ebenezer Obey. The double A-side EP features 'Eyi Yato' a tune from 1981 that captures Chief Commander and his band at their absolute funkiest, with a driving drum and bass groove, wah-wah guitar, and signature call-and-response vocals. Remixers include the legendary dub producer Mad Professor, the disco don Eddie C, and the Sol Power All-Stars themselves.

The Sol Power All-Stars keep things organic with chugging drums, heavy analog synth bass and sequences, as well as Daniel Meinecke’s additional keys and solos. The Canadian disco don Eddie C goes a little electro and a little acid with his analog bass-heavy flip. Like a good dub should, Mad Professor’s version accentuates the drum and bass groove and drenches everything in vintage sounding Mad Professor delay, reverb, and filtered dub-sauce, live and direct from his classic mixing desk. Alongside an extended edit of the original, the Eyi Yato EP is sure to find a permanent spot in DJ record bags around the world.

“June 2017, France. It’s 40° both inside and outside. At Studio Black Box, in the Haut Anjou, it is as if you were there, in Madagascar. And when the tape recorders start rotating, the musicians’ imagination feeds off the guts of their music : Malagasy bush, tropical heat, red dirt, sand, drought, corn, cassava, cockcrow, mooing zebus, lambahoany (fabric), leaf hut, fotaky house (mud), dust, portable generator, music, rhum, bodies frantically dancing wether in the dark or under the blazing sun…Tsapiky.

The album shall be named Valimbilo.
Bilo is a disease which strikes one’s mental health, depression is what western societies call it. When one is diagnosed with « voany bilo », a precise medical treatment is engaged and performed without doctors, nor medicine. To vanquish bilo, one has to use music.
The sorcerer solely decides upon the “good” day (the day which gathers the most positive aspects of the astrological conjuncture) to operate: the extended family hosts a ceremony ruled by many taboos, which can last up to a few days, and in which only one remedy is applied in high dosage : some Tsapiky.
They are “doctor” musicians whom talent is source of the cure.
They play for the patient, who has to be facing the orchestra : all of their attention is focused on the bilo, dancing in the sick person’s body : It has to be awaken, seduced, surprised and attacked from every angle before it is pressured, pressured until KO, until it can’t take the it anymore, stuffed with music. Then the patient is relieved, discharged, and the ceremony is over.

During the entirety of the ceremony, the patient picks a person who helps him/her get the bilo out of his/her system, this is what we call “valimbilo”, literally “husband/wife of the bilo.” "

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.

Between Aarhus and Bamako lie 6,593 kilometers – and a deep socio-economic divide. This is why people have long been drawn from Africa to Europe. Unfortunately, the opposite is rarely the case. “Sira Kura”, the debut album from the Danish-Malian band Faratuben, shows what is possible when musicians move out of their comfort zones and meet at eye level. The music from this Bamako-based band is not just another variation of Afrobeat, nor a retrospective reminiscence of Fela Kuti. It is an electrified version of the centuries-old Bwa and Bobo music, and differs from the traditional Kora sounds of a Toumani Diabaté and Salif Keïta with its increased pressure and tempo.
The three Danes, Mikas Bøgh Olesen, Jakob de Place and Mads Voxen, came to Mali as part of an exchange program of the Conservatoire de Arts et Metiers Multimédia (CAMM), where they heard traditional Bobo music for the first time. Bobo is what the French colonizers called the Bwa people, an oppressed minority living in Burkina Faso and northern Mali. The percussive music of the Bwa is driven by various percussion instruments and the sound of the balofon, a type of xylophone with calabashes suspended below. The three Danish music students were completely enthralled with this dynamic sound that accompanies religious ceremonies as well as weddings and parties in Mali.
Guitarist and studio owner Dieudonne Koita, vocalist Sory Dao and balofon virtuoso Kassim Koita, formed a band that was originally intended to perform only once: at the Bamako Jazz Festival. The name Bobo Jazz Experience was used on the posters at the time. But the performance was too grandiose not to continue. At the Bogolan Studio in downtown Bamako, the musicians recorded the songs “Terete” and “Pari” a short time later, which rapidly went into heavy rotation at the TV station ORTM and on various Malian radio stations. In the meantime the band had decided on the name Faratuben, a combination of the words “farafin” (black) and “toubabou” (white).
The musicians often live and rehearse together in the mountains outside Bamako, in a village called Kati, which the Koita family calls home. The Koita family is a large clan that has produced many important musicians. “Electrification is quite new in our tradition, and the first person to play Bwa music on an electric guitar was our father, Pakuene Koita”, says Dieudonne. His brother Kassim has been voted best balofon player in Mali four times. Faratuben are also becoming more and more successful in Mali, playing at weddings, parties and increasingly at big festivals like “Spot on Mali Music”.
In short, it was high time for a debut album! “Sira Kura” is extremely varied fusion, in which the pulsating polyrhythms of Bwa music are organically combined with elements of jazz and art pop – played at a dreamlike higher level. “A modern mix of 10CC and Osibisa”, as keyboarder Mikas calls it. And indeed, such overwhelming melodiousness and such complex songwriting is rarely found in Afrobeat. In Bambara, one of the many languages spoken in Mali, “Sira Kura” means “new direction”.
But Faratuben is about more than parties and good moods. The rousingly combative “Mi Njan Mure Mure” tells of days when Mali was a French colony: “You took our land, you took our space, you torture us, you treated us with barbarity.” The musicians see their band as living anti-racism. As Dieudonne says: “I never thought before that I could meet white people on an equal footing and on one level. That white people live, eat and sleep in my house and live together with my family, just like I do. Such a thing is very rare in Mali. We are happy and proud that through Faratuben we can show that it is possible to create a community beyond race and skin color.”
Meanwhile, the band has also gained a loyal fan base in Scandinavia. In Denmark, where the album was released last year, “Sira Kura” was awarded the Danish Music Award for the best “globalpop” album. And in August, the musicians also received a nomination for the DMA Roots Award.
Faratuben are now back again after being stuck in Aarhus from March to August due to Corona, and could only return to Mali at the end of the month. In their luggage, they carry the songs for their second album, which were written during their quarantine. But, until then, “Sira Kura” will ensure that autumn in Germany sizzles. Bwa music rules!

Music of Many Colours is a joint album between Roy Ayers and Fela Kuti, recorded after a three week tour of Nigeria’s major cities in 1979, during which Roy Ayers performed as the opening act for Fela’s band. The two artists decided to record the album as a round-up to the tour.

Roy Ayers describes the experience saying, “I met Fela Kuti in Nigeria in 1979, and we fell into a great relationship, good personal and music vibes, and we recorded that album together. Fela also came to USA in the eighties and we performed at NYC's Madison Square Garden. Amazingly energetic, Fela Kuti had a very original concept that was called Afro Beat – a genre with a very unique identity and exceptional music. One of Fela Kuti's most impressive qualities was that he was undeniably a brilliant show man, as a musician and as a huge dancer as well. His African concept was truly original… The tour was about two black men together coming together, one from Africa and other from USA, a very exciting collaboration."

Original Nigerian pressing. There's a James Brown Cover on here! Cover has some discolourations and wear, close to VG.

First, we had Unity. Now, South Sudan’s undisputed ‘King of Music’, the Juba-via-Melbourne eccentric outsider Gordon Koang, returns with his second full-length of original material since emigrating to Australia, the masterly titled follow-up, Community.

Eight tracks recorded in Melbourne with a cast of the city’s finest musical minds, including Zak Olsen, Jesse Williams, David “Daff” Gravolin and Jack Kong, the record draws upon Gordon’s pitch-perfect pop sensibility and compulsion for composing irresistibly catchy melodies. Add to this brew the extensive creditienals of his collaborators, who are known for their work with Trafik Island, ORB, Leah Senior and more, and you have yourself a perfect blend of East African pop and vintage psychedelia that is surely one of the most interesting records of the year, outstripping it’s Australian counterparts both in songwriting, production value and downright good energy.

After seeking asylum in Australia in 2012, Gordon Koang, along with his cousin, collaborator and bandmate Paul Biel, has gone on to become something of a darling in the Melbourne music community, delighting audiences year round with high energy shows and an irresistible enthusiasm. The pair have settled in the city’s outer suburb of Frankston, where Koang sits in isolation at home while Biel goes out to work each day; he was born blind, and has never seen neither his homeland in the Upper Nile Valley of South Sudan nor his new home on the streets of Melbourne.

This has done little to stop Koang channeling his creativity energy into music; he writes incessantly, and Community marks the twelfth full-length album of his career and his second since arriving in Australia (the previous ten currently lost to the streets of Juba in CD and cassette form - sure to be unearthed one day by Western tastemakers!)

His years of waiting for permanent residency in Australia, and prior to that of Civil War and unrest at home, have done little to dull the bright point of Koang’s positivity. He is without a doubt the man with the biggest smile in the room. A few short minutes with Koang will leave the listener walking away in a daze, his trademark phrases and bouncing laughter echoing for weeks. Community does for listeners what Koang can’t do himself - it reaches out to thousands around the world, providing him with a platform to personally greet and smile at each individual, to share a few words of encouragement and a quick observation about the warmth of the sun, or pleasure in simply being in company. If there is a silver lining to be found, chances are Gordon has already written an album about it.

The record is warm, fuzzy, catchy, lighthearted, and it packs a punch. It rocks hard with the best of them, Olsen’s beautiful production value drawing out the best in Koang’s eccentric and spiralling melodies, the band grinding themselves into an endless groove before bursting into some new impossible melody. Somewhere between William Onyeabor and King Gizzard, this is surely the soundtrack to round out what has been an incredible year of music post-pandemic.

Community is out everywhere Friday, November 11 via Music in Exile / Above Board (uk/eu) / Polyvinyl/Dispatch Dept. (North America).

Music in Exile is a not-for-profit record label and artist services company based in Melbourne, Australia, championing stories of culturally and linguistically diverse musicians and striving for a music industry that fairly represents all in our society.

Limited to 1000 copies worldwide, only available with GUTS and HHV.

In 2022, Guts brought together his musical family for his ‘Estrellas’ album. An ambitious project that brought together musicians from: Franc, Cuba and various African countries. For a journey that was as rich artistically as it was humanly. The list of superlatives was almost endless, "Formidable", "incredible", "unforgettable" and "magical" all thrown into the pot, during these magical moments in the Dakar studio. From the seventeen tracks heard on the original album, three have been entrusted to the expert and inventive hands of four producers, who have come up with new interpretations bringing Africa and the Caribbean together for a modern dancefloor.

‘Por Que Ou Ka Fe Sa’ (Poirier Remix)

From his studio in Montreal, Canadian Poirier has opted for a strong groove and relentless bass drum to keep out intruders, putting vocalists David Walters and Brenda Navarrete in a rhythmic cocoon. Accompanied in a slightly moody bassline that adds some driving muscle to the track. The hooky guitar line eventually gives way to the saxophone that emerges from the mix to parade around the front line. The original electric piano is replaced by a synth pad that loops and spins driving the track to its conclusion.

‘Por Que Ou Ka Fe Sa’ (David Walters Remix)

Before recording this track, David Walters and Brenda Navarette didn't even know each other. So in the magic of the moment that brought them together is a genuine and sincere artistic bond. It is no longer Guts but David who is at the musical helm, and before they too can savour the connection between the two artists, the dancers will have to pass through an overheated corridor where a Caribbean rhythm resonates with percussion. Digital and woodwind swirl and clash until the vocal encounter with the artists. It's a moment of respite that's as suspended as it is life-saving, because the exit is also via the famous corridor.

‘San Lazaro’ (Bosq Remix)

On Bosq’s mix, he’s opted to maintain things focused on the dancefloor, keeping the percussion persistent for the unleashed bodies of the dancers to smile. It's once again the walking bass line rises to the forefront of the groove, softening the shocks of the relentless kick drum. Roberto Valdes's timeless piano has disappeared, while guitars float and add to the atmosphere. The track is no longer awash in cigar smoke. Under Akemis's powerful vocals the low ceiling has disappeared, and the open roof is more a brass-lit spectacle. That doesn't make things any less overheated though, this one is sweaty until the end.

‘Medewui’ (Captain Planet Remix)

Captain Planet brings the dancer’s attention to the Afrobeat flavored jam that rocked the original, highlighting the Pat Kalla & Assane Mboup duet. Despite the track remaining mid tempo, laying back is no longer the order of the day as this mix really develops. The drums are more present jolting along with the organ in the first half. Once all the storytellers have taken their microphones, the rhythmic beats are doubled and the track is carried towards a frenzy of Afro-Latin dancing. Fired up by the brass and percussion, it’s this almost switch up that takes hold of the second part of the tune, with some righteous authority and relentless piano and trumpet.

Top reissue of their in demand 1976 LP by the super group. Includes the long jam ''Oya Kai'', keeps on going.. Also holds their known tune ''Musikana'', killer groove. Alec Khaoli, Selby Ntuli and Sipho Mabuse with their first album as Harari made a great debut channeling a raw energie following up their LP as the beaters. The Beaters – Harari was released in 1975. After changing their name, Harari went into the studio late in 1976 to record their follow-up, Rufaro / Happiness. In 1976 they were voted South Africa’s top instrumental group and were in high demand at concert venues across the country. Comprising former schoolmates guitarist and singer Selby Ntuli, bassist Alec Khaoli, lead guitarist Monty Ndimande and drummer Sipho Mabuse, the group had come a long way from playing American-styled instrumental soul in the late sixties to delivering two Afro-rock masterpieces. Before these two albums the Beaters had been disciples of ‘Soweto Soul’ – an explosion of township bands drawing on American soul and inspired by the assertive image of Stax and Motown’s Black artists. The Beaters supported Percy Sledge on his 1970 South African tour (and later Timmy Thomas, Brook Benton and Wilson Pickett). But their watershed moment was their three month tour of Zimbabwe (then Rhodesia) where they were inspired by the strengthening independence struggle and musicians such as Thomas Mapfumo who were turning to African influences. On their return, the neat Nehru jackets that had been the band’s earliest stage wear were replaced by dashikis and Afros. “In Harari we rediscovered our African-ness, the infectious rhythms and music of the continent. We came back home inspired! We were overhauling ourselves into dashiki-clad musicians who were Black Power saluting and so on.” Sipho Hotstix Mabuse, talking of the band’s time spent on tour in the (then) Rhodesian township from where they took their name. As well as expressing confident African politics, Alec Khaoli recalled, they pioneered by demonstrating that such messages could also be carried by “...happy music. During apartheid times we made people laugh and dance when things weren’t looking good.” The two albums capture the band on the cusp of this transition. One the first album Harari, Inhlupeko Iphelile, Push It On and Thiba Kamoo immediately signal the new Afro-centric fusion of rock, funk and indigenous influences. Amercian soul pop is not forgotten with Love, Love, Love and, helped along by Kippie Moeketsi and Pat Matshikiza a bump-jive workout What’s Happening concludes the album. The second album Rufaro pushes the African identity and fusion further, with key tracks Oya Kai (Where are you going?), Musikana and Uzulu whilst the more pop-styled Rufaro and Afro-Gas point to where Harari were headed to in years to come. The popularity and sales generated by these two classic albums saw them signed by Gallo and release just two more albums with the original line-up before the untimely death of Selby Ntuli in 1978. Whilst they went on to greater success, even landing a song in the US Billboard Disco Hot 100 in 1982, it was never the same again. “Harari’s music still speaks directly to one of my goals as a younger artist: to express myself as an African without pretending that I don’t have all these other musical elements – classical, jazz, house – inside me.” (Thandi Ntuli, niece of Selby Ntuli).

Legend' is lofty praise that is often used lightly, however, Mike D from the Beastie Boys certainly is one in the truest of spirits. We are delighted after over 30 years of being involved in music to finally release a project involving such a hip-hop pioneer and icon as Mike. In keeping with the maverick attitude of the Beastie Boys, you don't always get what you expect. For this release there isn't a hip-hop beat, instrumental-funk or hardcore-punk joint in sight, rather an electronic-African club banger. Mike took it upon himself to rework Malian artists Idrissa Soumaoro and L'Eclipse De L'I.J.A. and their track ’Nissodia', which is taken from the 'Le Tioko-Tioko' album originally released in 1978 on the German Democratic Republic (gdr) label Eterna. The song was also featured on 'The Original Sound Of Mali' compilation released on Mr Bongo back in 2017. It was November 2019 and the day before a Mr Bongo 30 years celebration event in Paris at the Pedro party in the 'New Morning' club, when out of the blue the remix landed in Dave Mr Bongo's inbox. We loved it straight away and decided to road test it the next night in the club. Whether it be a remix/re-edit/rework, it doesn't matter, what does matter is that it works spectacularly in the club and had people jumping on the stage to dance at the party. A sensational track and one which leaves a beautiful memory of good-times from a night out in Paris (and one which is in retrospect is even more poignant as the late-great maestro Tony Allen was in the club that night), and we are sure it will light up many more dancefloors to come.

Legend' is lofty praise that is often used lightly, however, Mike D from the Beastie Boys certainly is one in the truest of spirits. We are delighted after over 30 years of being involved in music to finally release a project involving such a hip-hop pioneer and icon as Mike. In keeping with the maverick attitude of the Beastie Boys, you don't always get what you expect. For this release there isn't a hip-hop beat, instrumental-funk or hardcore-punk joint in sight, rather an electronic-African club banger. Mike took it upon himself to rework Malian artists Idrissa Soumaoro and L'Eclipse De L'I.J.A. and their track ’Nissodia', which is taken from the 'Le Tioko-Tioko' album originally released in 1978 on the German Democratic Republic (gdr) label Eterna. The song was also featured on 'The Original Sound Of Mali' compilation released on Mr Bongo back in 2017. It was November 2019 and the day before a Mr Bongo 30 years celebration event in Paris at the Pedro party in the 'New Morning' club, when out of the blue the remix landed in Dave Mr Bongo's inbox. We loved it straight away and decided to road test it the next night in the club. Whether it be a remix/re-edit/rework, it doesn't matter, what does matter is that it works spectacularly in the club and had people jumping on the stage to dance at the party. A sensational track and one which leaves a beautiful memory of good-times from a night out in Paris (and one which is in retrospect is even more poignant as the late-great maestro Tony Allen was in the club that night), and we are sure it will light up many more dancefloors to come.

Following on from the successes of their first two LPs, "Kalba" and "Small Small", Isaac Birituro & The Rail Abandon return with the "Kontonbili EP". A collection of seven tracks that trace the traditional West African roots of their sound whilst adding their unique touch, largely courtesy of Isaac's xylophone, Sonny Johns' folky embellishments and the vocal prowess of powerful Ghanaian songstress Wiyaala.

The lead single "Hado Deeli" roughly translates to "My Rival" and is a vibrant discussion between two rivals, one of whom is always making a fuss about anything and everything, even when things are all good! "Gargar", with its collaboration of xylophone, whistles, Wiyaala's effervescent vocals and relentless groove represents, quite literally, the band's "joining together" for this EP. In contrast, "I Know" sees Sonny Johns takes over lead vocal duties to lament the breakdown of a relationship accompanied by muted horns and Wiyaala's soothing backing vocals. "Nimmbalia" continues in a mellow and reassuring tone before emerging as one of the most uplifting and simultaneously fierce cuts on the EP! The traditional version of "Bawa" - the original take of which can be found on last year's "Small Small" LP - strips things back a little, before culminating in a battle of xylophone, whistles and choir. "Yeri Villa" has a wonderfully laid back, sun drenched feel with some truly beautiful vocal refrains, and finally - only available on the digital version - comes the deeply percussive and trance inducing "Darpeny", rounding off a rather stunning EP from this cross continental outfit.

All tracks feature Ghanaian singer, song-writer, model and actor, Wiyaala. With a strong fanbase in Africa and beyond, "the lioness" made her mark on Wah Wah 45s and BBC 6 Music last year when she featured on the A-listed "Senye", described as "perfection" by Annie Mac and "pure joy!" by Tash LC.

"Justin Rutledge could easily rest on his reputation. Eleven albums in, he’s accumulated a daunting body of work upon which one could easily coast. Instead, on ""Something Easy"", Justin Rutledge did the opposite. He made things exceedingly difficult for himself and decided to write, record and produce the album by himself at home. With one, then later two, bouncing baby boys underfoot, to boot.

The results speak for themselves. ""Something Easy"" is a serene, stately thing of beauty, a gently paced record that really rewards the patient listener with meticulous detail and unexpected instrumental happenings. It’s anything but Rutledge settling into a rut. It will surprise you.

That Rutledge can still catch us off guard should not come as a surprise. The man is very good at what he does. Accolades have piled up since he released his first album, ""No Never Alone"", via Six Shooter Records and Slowdive/Mojave 3 main man Neil Halstead’s Shady Lane Records in 2004. He’s won a Juno Award for Roots Album of the Year in 2014 for the album ""Valleyheart"" – which also landed him a Canadian Folk Music Award – and has since been nominated for three more Junos. He’s been longlisted twice for the critic-voted Polaris Music Prize.

“All of these songs are about youth, and I hadn’t realized that,” he says. “And it’s interesting because I feel that, as a new dad, there’s this transition that’s happening where suddenly I’m realizing I’m in my 40s. And what’s happening is that our wild-and-free years are suddenly over there, and our ‘middle-aged’ years are now right here. I feel like I’m at this apex where I’m thinking a lot about my youth, But I’m not lamenting anything. I’m not old, I’m just shocked at how suddenly this new phase of life has begun.”"

A doctor by day and a musician by night, Leon x Leon has been producing songs in his Parisian home studio since 2013, where house, italo-disco and boogie are mixing. When he was younger, he was immersed in music by taking jazz drum lessons at the conservatory, and especially by seeing his father, a sound engineer, who had been building his own synthesizers since the 1970s. As a tribute, he used one of these unique synthesizers on a title of the disc.
After a remarkable remix of Cerrone's "Funk Makossa" and several tracks on various from “Red Laser Disco”, he released his project My Solar Brass on the same English label in 2017. Organizer of many Parisian parties, he also participated in the founding of the publishing label “Good Plus". With the release of Rokanbo on Cracki Records, Leon x Leon signs a mature EP with the influence of different styles.
The first eponymous title is a manifesto mixing Acid, House and Zouk. As soon as we launch the track, the pop & acid 80's sounds takes us to another world... A UFO from the Islands! The other parts of the EP don't leave us in the lurch! “Formant Sweep” delivers a soft and groovy bass that responds to an endless, spatial synthetic takeoff. On “Red Footpath”, the harder kick cleverly blends with an atmospheric blanket and a bright, lively flute solo straight from an abandoned piece of bamboo on a deserted beach. After that, “Jungle Juice” lets a crazy keyboard solo resonate in the middle of tropical fauna and flora, and finally on “Horizon”, the EP ends in beauty with an airy atmosphere. This last piece sounds like a beautiful sunset at the end of a long summer day.
Through all these tracks, Rokanbo EP offers us a clever contrast between synthetic notes and the warmth of tropical groove, and places our gaze towards the horizon, seeking the groove to disturb its line on the infinite sea.

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.

Nahawa Doumbia's new album Kanawa concisely captures this current moment in Malian history. The singer, whose storied career spans more than four decades, reflects on the immigration crisis from the Malian perspective in the title of her new album Kanawa. Across eight songs recorded in Bamako with a band including traditional and modern instruments, Doumbia merges her early work that relied on a spare expression of her trademark didadi rhythm with the bombastic range of contemporary Malian pop. The beautifully complex musical accompaniment that results is courtesy of the large ensemble she pulled together with producer and arranger (and day one collaborator) N'gou Bagayoko. The band features two highly expressive Malian string instruments, the ngoni and the slightly smaller kamalé ngoni, as well as a variety of percussion, drum programming, karignan (a metal scraper) and acoustic and electric guitars. Doumbia's daughter, a celebrated singer with her own group and busy concert schedule, Doussou Bagayoko sings on "Adjorobena," a song about patience, tolerance and living in peace. Doumbia weaves together a roadmap of her psyche when it comes to the good and bad life has to offer. She talks about marriage and women leaving home to join another through the metaphor of a tree in the garden; she includes gunshot samples in the song "Foliwilen" to honor the bravery of hunters, soldiers and other courageous people; she uses a bird in "Djougoh" to talk about lazy people; and, in "Ndiagneko" she advises people to ignore critics, just do you. Mali has gone through an intense period of regional strife and terrorist incidents over the last ten years and Doumbia roots the album in tragic local concerns with deep global implications. "The meaning of Kanawa is so simple. We see our children trying to cross the ocean all the time. I said that many of our children die in the ocean and some of them die while crossing the Sahara. But I ask them why do they leave their country? They said that they leave because of the family situation or problems like poverty and unemployment. I ask them to stay and work in their country. I call on the UN and African leaders so that we can coordinate our efforts to find a solution, to create jobs for them so that young people stop leaving. That's why I chose it as the title of my album so that everybody can learn from it and also so that there is a reduction in the number of people emigrating. So that some will hear the message and stay home and grow the land. Leaving is not the only solution. My message is to help the youth find jobs."

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

Odd Okoddo is a Kenyan/German duo consisting of Olith Ratego and Sven Kacirek. The two artists met in Kenya, about a decade ago, when Sven Kacirek was recording his "Kenya Sessions", an album that put Kacirek on the map of outernational producers. It was reviewed as a "World Music 2.0" (de:bug magazine), whose "fascination endures" (The Wire). Olith Ratego also made an appearance on the "Kenya Sessions”, on the track "Too Good To Be True".

The last time I found myself on the phone with Jean-Christian Mboumba Mackaya known as Mack-Joss - founder of the Mighty Orchestra Massako - I could hear gun-shots in the background. Libreville was upside down following the re-election of president Ali Bongo in August 2016. By the time I was ready to go ahead with this project, Mack-Joss’s phone number had been disconnected, and shortly afterwards I found out that the baobab of Gabonese music had fallen.

An adept of folk rhythms, Mack-Joss’s career as a musician began when he was just 17 of age and he quickly established himself as a staple of Libreville’s nightlife scene, singing in various local bands. By 1966 he had released “Le Boucher”, his first hit which swept the African airwaves and earned him the respect of Franco, the legendary master of Congolese Rumba. Franc ´s encouragement helped transform him from a Gabonese singer into an ascendent figure of pan-African culture. Between 1968 and 1970 Mack-Joss and his Negro-Tropical immortalised a good number of singles recorded in a makeshift open-air recording studios and in 1971 Gabon armed forces decided to form their own band. Mack-Joss was recruited to become the band leader and this was the birth of Orchestre Massako which became Gabon’s national orchestra.

At the end of the 1970´s funds were made available to bring recording equipment over from France. Studio Mobile Massako was born and Mack-Joss’s songwriting ability provided hit after hit. The master tapes with the recordings were sent to Paris for mixing and Mack-Joss would personally make the journey to France, carrying the reels in his hand luggage. The vinyl records were then pressed in France and shipped back to Gabon, and to other distributors throughout the continent. About a dozen long play records were recorded between 1978 and 1986 and most were released on Mass Pro, Mack-Joss´s own label. A few of these recordings featured a singer from Guinée Conakry by the name of Amara Touré who had joined Orchestre Massako as a singer in 1980 and had become an important ingredient in the band’s success. His specific voice, impossible not to recognise, left no one unmoved (ask those who listened to the compilation AALP078).

Mack-Joss’s retirement in 1996 marked the end of Orchestre Massako. With a four decades spanned career, his contribution to Gabonese culture cannot be overstated and continues to inspire the respect and devotion of people who knew him.

Kadi Yombo, published in 1989, is the most successful album in the quest for a fusion between tradition and modernity in Bwiti harp music of the Tsogho people of Gabon. Combining beating rattles with a layer of synthesizers, Papé Nziengui blends in a contrapuntal dialogue characteristic of harp playing: male song in appeal and female choir in response, male voice of the musical arc and rhythms of female worship. But above all it's Tsogho ritual music and modern studio orchestration. The result is an initiatory itinerary of 10 musical pieces which are all milestones likely to be simultaneously listened to, danced, meditated on, and soon acclaimed. In the years since, Nziengui has traveled he world from Lagos to Paris, from Tokyo to Cordoba, from Brussels to Mexico City to become a true icon, the emblem of Gabonese music. Like Bob Dylan, "electrifying" folk and Bob Marley mixing rock with reggae, some purists have criticized Nziengui for having distorted the music of harp by imposing a cross with modern instruments. They even went so far as to claim that Nziengui was just an average harpist covering his shortcomings with stunts that were only good for impressing neophytes; like playing a harp placed upside down behind his back or playing two or three harps simultaneously. Sincere convictions or venomous defamations, in any case, Nziengui never gave in to such attacks, imposing himself on the contrary to pay homage to the elders (Yves Mouenga, Jean Honoré Miabé, Vickoss Ekondo) while instructing the maximum of young people. He is thus the promoter of many young talents, the most prominent of which is certainly his nephew Jean Pierre Mingongué. In a conservative society where the sacred is confused with secrecy, exposing the mysteries of Bwiti in broad daylight can be punished by exclusion or even execution. Papé Nziengui has always claimed that he faces such risks because he never felt enslaved to a community that governs his life, that regulates his conduct, that has a right of censorship over his activities. Like Ravi Shankar, the famous sitarist, Papé Nziengui is a man of rupture but also of openness, a transmitter of culture. As proof, he has established himself in Libreville, Gabo's capital, as the main harpist for sessions and concerts, accompanying the greatest national artists (Akendengué, Rompavè, Annie-Flore Batchiellilys, Les Champs sur la Lowé, etc.) as well as foreign artists (Papa Wemba, Manu Dibango, Kassav', Toups Bebey, etc.). In 1988, he was the first harpist to release an album in the form of a cassette produced by the French Cultural Center (Papé Nziengui, Chants et Musiques Tsogho). At the same time, he created his own group (Bovenga), combining traditional music instruments (musical bow, drums, various percussion instruments, etc.) in the framework of a true national orchestra, which gave the first concert and the first tours of a traditional music that was both modern and dynamic, thus "democratizing" the harp, to the dismay of certain purists. On the other hand, in modern music, dominated by the logic of profit or even commercialism, artistic creation must often be adjusted for a specific audience based on reason rather than heart. But instead of allowing himself to be distorted, Papé Nziengui has always tried to produce music that is not a caricature, worthy in its expression as in its content, of the sacredness and transcendence of the music of the Origins. This is what makes Nziengui-not only the musician, but the man-someone whose age hasn't altered any of his freshness or authenticity.

Kadi Yombo, published in 1989, is the most successful album in the quest for a fusion between tradition and modernity in Bwiti harp music of the Tsogho people of Gabon. Combining beating rattles with a layer of synthesizers, Papé Nziengui blends in a contrapuntal dialogue characteristic of harp playing: male song in appeal and female choir in response, male voice of the musical arc and rhythms of female worship. But above all it's Tsogho ritual music and modern studio orchestration. The result is an initiatory itinerary of 10 musical pieces which are all milestones likely to be simultaneously listened to, danced, meditated on, and soon acclaimed. In the years since, Nziengui has traveled he world from Lagos to Paris, from Tokyo to Cordoba, from Brussels to Mexico City to become a true icon, the emblem of Gabonese music. Like Bob Dylan, "electrifying" folk and Bob Marley mixing rock with reggae, some purists have criticized Nziengui for having distorted the music of harp by imposing a cross with modern instruments. They even went so far as to claim that Nziengui was just an average harpist covering his shortcomings with stunts that were only good for impressing neophytes; like playing a harp placed upside down behind his back or playing two or three harps simultaneously. Sincere convictions or venomous defamations, in any case, Nziengui never gave in to such attacks, imposing himself on the contrary to pay homage to the elders (Yves Mouenga, Jean Honoré Miabé, Vickoss Ekondo) while instructing the maximum of young people. He is thus the promoter of many young talents, the most prominent of which is certainly his nephew Jean Pierre Mingongué. In a conservative society where the sacred is confused with secrecy, exposing the mysteries of Bwiti in broad daylight can be punished by exclusion or even execution. Papé Nziengui has always claimed that he faces such risks because he never felt enslaved to a community that governs his life, that regulates his conduct, that has a right of censorship over his activities. Like Ravi Shankar, the famous sitarist, Papé Nziengui is a man of rupture but also of openness, a transmitter of culture. As proof, he has established himself in Libreville, Gabo's capital, as the main harpist for sessions and concerts, accompanying the greatest national artists (Akendengué, Rompavè, Annie-Flore Batchiellilys, Les Champs sur la Lowé, etc.) as well as foreign artists (Papa Wemba, Manu Dibango, Kassav', Toups Bebey, etc.). In 1988, he was the first harpist to release an album in the form of a cassette produced by the French Cultural Center (Papé Nziengui, Chants et Musiques Tsogho). At the same time, he created his own group (Bovenga), combining traditional music instruments (musical bow, drums, various percussion instruments, etc.) in the framework of a true national orchestra, which gave the first concert and the first tours of a traditional music that was both modern and dynamic, thus "democratizing" the harp, to the dismay of certain purists. On the other hand, in modern music, dominated by the logic of profit or even commercialism, artistic creation must often be adjusted for a specific audience based on reason rather than heart. But instead of allowing himself to be distorted, Papé Nziengui has always tried to produce music that is not a caricature, worthy in its expression as in its content, of the sacredness and transcendence of the music of the Origins. This is what makes Nziengui-not only the musician, but the man-someone whose age hasn't altered any of his freshness or authenticity.

Full recording of one of the most engaging and beguiling Late Junction live sessions we've ever heard - the one off first meeting between Korean multi-instrumentalist Park Jiha and writer and performer Roy Claire Potter. Park Jiha plays the saenghwang, a Korean mouth organ which she blows in long multi-phonics to set pace for Potter's words. Together they unfurl a scene slowly in front of you, rich and focused, shifting your field of vision and drawing you in, elsewhere. It's impossible not to follow, not to look for where they point. When the piri sounds for a flooded town on the B side, the water flows between your own feet; Potter's words a sometimes frightening hörspiel in scouse. Though the details are fine, the space each artist gives one another and their instruments, their language, is given to the listener in turn. A careful melody picks out a route for words with no fixed meaning, a body with no fixed direction, and we are invited to listen and see a kind of music made visible in its inference. Liner notes by Frances Morgan.

Peter Mekwunye, who had moved from Nigeria to the United States, self-released 'One Kind Of Love' as a small run cassette in 1993 under the moniker Pedro. His songs were influenced by traditional Nigerian music, as well as the popular tunes he heard on the radio while growing up, f.i. by Fela Kuti and William Onyeabor. Now 'One Kind Of Love' is available on vinyl for the first time ever.

Dig this way records is proud to present its first official reissue: a marvelous Nigerian disco boogie album by Peter Abdul - Get Down With Me.
Impossible to find on the original EMI press is now finally back into the market for everybody to enjoy it and make the hips move!
Originally released in 1984 it’s an outstanding experimentation of Nigerian disco boogie - heavily influenced by western artists –
played by talented musician that follows with their monster cosmic sounds the tiny and strong voice of Peter Abdul in his only officially released LP.
The luck of this work came from the collaboration with Nkono Teles at keyboards ; Sole at bass guitar; Ganiyu Bello , Emmanuel Akoko Jr. and Tolu Gayas as backup vocalists –
arranged and produced by Odion Iruoje and assisted by some good engineers like Bayo Aro, Monday Oki and Edward Jatto. All together they created this insane disco- boogie LP.
For the 2018 reissue, the audio was carefully restored by Colin Young - Liner notes that come with a interview and some unseen and raw original pictures of Peter Abdul back in the days-
these photos are printed separately on tick quality paper insert (from a small studio of Milano called Legno).
As Peter Abdul said:
“Music to me it's a pure natural instinct, a natural gift which i grew to love so much” -
I was lucky and pleased to collaborate with great artists like Nkono Teles, a Cameroon born multi-instrumentalist and producer based in Nigeria;
Ganiyu Bello, who came for a visit from London and joined me as a backup vocalist along with Emmanuel Akoko Jr.;
and Tolu Gay – the woman vocalist and romantic flavor on “Baby I Love You”.
Some great musicians played on the tracks, interested in making music with a talented teenager with a tiny voice – but one that sang to the beat and with a good sense of tonality.
It was like a great adventure, and from that symbiosis, “Get Down With Me” was born.
And fun: people started calling me the Michael Jackson of Nigeria at live shows, especially at the University of Ibadan, the Alfa Club and others.
So many pretty girls wanting to win my heart.

‘Unconscious Collective’ is the first album by PS5, the new ensemble led by Pietro Santangelo (Nu Guinea, Slivovitz, Fitness Forever) - and it will be out for Hyperjazz Records on 21st May 2021. It’s a further step in the label’s path in trying to connect the musical tradition of South Italy, the love for African-American music, and new ways of expression. ‘Unconscious Collective’ is a musical experiment where layered memories and hidden feelings resonate as if they arise directly from the most recondite part of the unconscious, suspending the stream of consciousness. With the aim to create a state of trance and override the human reason, this is an imaginary round trip across the Mediterranean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean, ideally connecting Naples with Northern and Sub-Saharan Africa and Latin America. The arrangements wrote by Santangelo are based on great freedom of improvisation: while the melodic textures of the two saxophones didn’t give any clear references, the other musicians followed the rhythmic pulse and its unpredictable ways. The music moves naturally along an imaginary line highlighting the ancestral connection between Jamaica and Ethiopia or between Nigeria and Cuba. In the background, Naples is a synthesis of all the sonic ingredients, mixed and cooked in its own mystical and spicy belly. Besides Santangelo himself on the tenor and soprano saxophones, the collective is made up of: Paolo Bianconcini, a brilliant Neapolitan percussionist with a very deep Afro-Cuban background; Giuseppe Giroffi, young and talented alto, and baritone saxophonist; the bassist Vincenzo Lamagna and the drummer Salvatore Rainone, both loyal members of the former Santangelo’s trio. Recorded live at the Auditorium Novecento in Naples, the legendary studio of Phonotype Records, ‘Unconscious Collective’ is mixed in analog format by Fabrizio Piccolo and mastered by Davide Barbarulo at his 20Hz20KHz Studio.

The Accra-born pianist and frontman, ROB, only released a few albums in small quantities, yet two of them are among the most sought-after records from 70’s Africa. This was the first.

So what do we know? After learning his craft in Benin and playing with the likes of Orchestre Poly-Rythmo de Cotonou, ROB returned to Accra to write his own material and find a sound. Hooked on the driving funk and raw soul of stars such as James Brown and Otis Redding, he would often imitate his heroes on his father’s piano during school holidays.

The title track sets the pace with a JBs-like rhythm, ROB almost shamanic with his sparse yet commanding vocal. The organ and wahwah guitar spin us out before those imperious horns bring us back in.

And what better way to close this set than with ‘More’, swept up in a call and response between Rob and his backing singers as a ‘Blow Your Head’ synth flares and the brass blasts. Good times guaranteed.

As the man himself says, “Funky music is in my blood. What you hear is the coming out of my mind.” No one sounds like Rob, because there is no one like Rob.

Skyf Connection (pronounced skAyf) was a short lived project by long time friends Anthony Mthembu and Enoch Nondala. At the time they were working for Annic Music, an independent label run by married couple Anne and Nic Blignaut. Although the label was known mostly for Zulu, Sotho, Tsonga and other traditional styles, they had a few Disco releases on the label including groups like Keith Hutchinson’s Focus and Enoch’s discovery Lena, who went on to have huge success under the name Ebony a few years later.
In 1984, when an artist didn’t show up for a booked session they decided to make use of the studio time and began working on a demo. At the time Anthony and Enoch had been playing for a year at a new club called Gamsho, located on a farm on the outskirts of Kliptown Soweto. Along with Blackie Sibisi, Sepate Mokoena and Elijah “chippa” Khumalo they made up the resident house band. Due to cultural boycotts and American artists refusing to perform in the country, locals took it upon themselves to fill the market with the American sound the crowds demanded. The demo they recorded at Blue Tree Studios was going to be their product they could use to promote their brand of the American sound. They then took the demo to Universal Studios where their friend and trusted engineer Jan “fast fingers” Smit was working. It would be here that they would polish their demo into something they could take to their bosses and have pressed. Equipped with a DX 7, Linn Drum and some Juno synthesizers they were on their way. Jan lived up to his name and programmed the drums, it is rumoured he could program in almost real time, a skill that translated to the local arcade where he held high scores on many machines. Enoch would be singing and playing guitar while Anthony would do all the Bass and Keyboards. The result was 4 funky party anthems with synth work like no other recording at the time. Their take on what they believed the crowd would want to hear at the beloved club they called home.
From start to finish the 4 tracks portray what would have been a standard night at the Gamshu. Although the club would open earlier and the standard hours of most clubs was 6 to 6 , the band would start playing at 10pm. With their standard set time and Anthony and Enoch unique view on what a Disco should be, they chose the motto Ten to Ten as the album title because those were the hours when they were the stars and Disco ruled the dance floor. To get to the club was a bit difficult, you needed to drive along an empty road where thieves waited for any patrons trying their luck walking after dark. Since there was no transport during the night, the safest way to get home was to wait till the next morning to walk home. Even though in the summer months of Johannesburg light begins to peek in just after 4am, crowds refused to leave and stayed enjoying good music and company until 10am. The lead off track “Let’s Freak Together” has powerful lyrics encouraging people to let go of their worries, put aside any differences and let the music bring everyone to freak and dance together. The whole album is about the joy we can all feel when we share the same moments and how music can bring people together in a unique way, a philosophy shared with the original nightclubs of 70s New York. This approach to music is where the name Skyf Connection comes from, translating from slang to mean the connection we create through sharing, in this case Music and good times.
Skyf Connection would go on to play at Gamsho till the club’s closure in 1986. In those years their popularity lead to being booked for private events like weddings and birthday parties, as well as gigs in some other venues like Mofolo Hall. They would share the stage with many artists through the years learning artist’s songs and providing support as a backing band. After the club closed Anthony would go on to join the house band at The Pelican, another famous club located in Orlando East, as well as dabbling with songwriting for artists like Phumi Maduna and helping Enoch on many projects through the years. Enoch would ditch live music altogether and immerse himself in studio work, starting full time as a house producer and A&R for the recently formed Ream Music. He would go on to produce hit albums for pop artists like Percy Kay and Makwerhu but made his mark discovering countless artists that would become stars in the traditional market. They would remain friends until Anthony’s passing in 2016 and although Anthony is no longer with us his spirit lives in the grooves he left on this one of a kind record. His wife Vinolia will be accepting his portion of the profits on his behalf.

The Star Beams album is a bit of an enigma. When we first came across their epic dance-floor monster 'Disco Stomp’ it was on a Disco Calypso compilation, so we assumed it originated from the Caribbean. Years later we worked out how wrong we were and that this nugget was actually from South Africa and taken off an ultra scarce album on JAS Pride records from 1976. The next problem was tracking down an original copy and we don’t think we’ve ever seen our Bongo team member Gary Johnson as happy as the day he turned up clutching a copy under his arm.
'Play Disco Specials' was produced by Ray Nkwe who also worked with Mankunku Quartet and The Soul Jazzmen, with all writing credits on the album going to Ray, the recording credited to engineer Robin Ritchie and the artwork to Carol Knowles. Other than this, the personnel of the record remains a mystery, but sometimes a bit of mystery is a good thing.
Aside from the disco-jazz-funk of 'Disco Stomp’, which has found it’s way into the DJ sets of Theo Parrish, 'Play Disco Specials’ will appeal to fans of The Star Beams South African contemporaries The Drive, Batsumi and Pacific Express.

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.

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.

Excellent reissue of this amazing LP by the South African super group. Check the tunes ''Harari'' and 'Thiba Kamoo'', super groovy arrangements and tight cohesion between Alec Khaoli on bass guitar and Sipho Mabuse on drums, laced with the soaring vocals and guitar play by Selby Ntuli. Tip! The Beaters – Harari was released in 1975. After changing their name, Harari went into the studio late in 1976 to record their follow-up, Rufaro / Happiness. In 1976 they were voted South Africa’s top instrumental group and were in high demand at concert venues across the country. Comprising former schoolmates guitarist and singer Selby Ntuli, bassist Alec Khaoli, lead guitarist Monty Ndimande and drummer Sipho Mabuse, the group had come a long way from playing American-styled instrumental soul in the late sixties to delivering two Afro-rock masterpieces. Before these two albums the Beaters had been disciples of ‘Soweto Soul’ – an explosion of township bands drawing on American soul and inspired by the assertive image of Stax and Motown’s Black artists. The Beaters supported Percy Sledge on his 1970 South African tour (and later Timmy Thomas, Brook Benton and Wilson Pickett). But their watershed moment was their three month tour of Zimbabwe (then Rhodesia) where they were inspired by the strengthening independence struggle and musicians such as Thomas Mapfumo who were turning to African influences. On their return, the neat Nehru jackets that had been the band’s earliest stage wear were replaced by dashikis and Afros. “In Harari we rediscovered our African-ness, the infectious rhythms and music of the continent. We came back home inspired! We were overhauling ourselves into dashiki-clad musicians who were Black Power saluting and so on.” Sipho Hotstix Mabuse, talking of the band’s time spent on tour in the (then) Rhodesian township from where they took their name. As well as expressing confident African politics, Alec Khaoli recalled, they pioneered by demonstrating that such messages could also be carried by “...happy music. During apartheid times we made people laugh and dance when things weren’t looking good.” The two albums capture the band on the cusp of this transition. One the first album Harari, Inhlupeko Iphelile, Push It On and Thiba Kamoo immediately signal the new Afro-centric fusion of rock, funk and indigenous influences. Amercian soul pop is not forgotten with Love, Love, Love and, helped along by Kippie Moeketsi and Pat Matshikiza a bump-jive workout What’s Happening concludes the album. The second album Rufaro pushes the African identity and fusion further, with key tracks Oya Kai (Where are you going?), Musikana and Uzulu whilst the more pop-styled Rufaro and Afro-Gas point to where Harari were headed to in years to come. The popularity and sales generated by these two classic albums saw them signed by Gallo and release just two more albums with the original line-up before the untimely death of Selby Ntuli in 1978. Whilst they went on to greater success, even landing a song in the US Billboard Disco Hot 100 in 1982, it was never the same again. “Harari’s music still speaks directly to one of my goals as a younger artist: to express myself as an African without pretending that I don’t have all these other musical elements – classical, jazz, house – inside me.” (Thandi Ntuli, niece of Selby Ntuli).

The Bees are a textbook case of the chew and spit cycle that was the late 80’s South African music industry. Although their unknown story is likely unique, it is just as likely that it is no different to that of many other young artists who dreamed of getting their music heard at the time. By 1988, the independent record label was no longer as uncommon as it had been at the beginning of the decade. As the 80s went on, more seasoned A&R reps and Producers that had gained experience and connections from their work under major labels would be trying to cash in on a market they helped create. Without the need of big rooms or expensive recording equipment, the digital advancements allowed many Producers to open or work in smaller studios and promote unknown artists under their own imprints. They would then have their catalogs marketed and distributed by the same major labels they had been working for just years prior. This would open up the possibility of a new era of stars as potential talent no longer had to be pitched to major labels in hopes of them taking a chance on a new signee over their already established artists. With the market growing and a struggle to keep up with the demand for new sounds this agreement would allow the major labels to put new emerging artists or groups on their catalog with little investment and high reward if it happened to be a hit. ON Records was just one of the independent players at the time. Ronnie Robot had just signed the unlikely trio The Bees in hopes of adding a hit group to his label roster that consisted of solo acts. Despite the debut’s fresh house inspired sound, it failed to catch on was outsold by the bubblegum disco the label was known for. Over the years unsold back stock and promos would build up with the distributor. Luckily this allowed sealed copies from the label’s catalog to survive into the 90s when the distributor’s stock was unloaded and picked up by legendary Johannesburg jazz shop Kohinoor. Here sealed copies of the Bees first attempt sat under appreciated for over 20 years before becoming a hot title after they started circulating online and became club staples. This is how the first album of an unknown group with no success was able to become a collectors item and earn a reissue over 25 years later. With their first record behind them The Bees were ready move forward and get back into the studio. A suggestion from producers had the trio change camps and go work with the newly formed Creative Sound Recordings, the label that promised “Music for the Future” and ended up being an essential studio in the early years of Kwaito. They would work with producer Chris Ghelakis and guitarist George Vardas, while a young Marvin Moses sat behind the desk. Musically the sophomore album was as good as a follow up as you could get. Building on the first album, Mashonisa delivers catchy melodies backed by heavy drum programming that would score points with any Pantsula. The Black Box inspired “ Never Give Up” was one of two tracks chosen to be pressed as the promo for the album, hoping to trick listeners with their catchy version of the hit( A year later the label would release their first volume of Black Box covers sang by neo soul diva BB, it would be a great seller). The label printed up an unknown amount of these in a last attempt to push the release in Shabeens and on Radio. The cheaper route of flooding the market with promo copies would only pay off 25 years later when unplayed copies started being rediscovered and had survived the years in a quantity that original run of the full album could not. Once again it was clear that with no mainstream appeal, the quality of the music on its own was not enough to garner any success at the time. The album flopped worse than their first and failed to make it past it’s initial run, making it one of the harder titles to get from the CSR catalog. Mashonisa would be the last attempt from the Bees. They would disappear from the scene as quickly as they appeared. Of the three members it is only known that lead Singer Solomon Phiri continued in music fronting a wave dance group before he mysteriously vanished in 1993, never to be heard from again. Through a combination of luck and circumstance the group, which is unknown in South Africa to even the most plugged in musicians, producers and radio hosts of the time, managed to finally get some of the recognition they deserved 30 years later. Unfortunately this small blip of fame would happen with none of the band members present to give their side of the story, or even aware of how their two albums became popular enough to be printed on different continents in a new millennia. The Bees suffered the same fate as countless other artists of the time, who thanks to emerging independent labels and willing producers were given an opportunity to have a short career, only to be replaced by the meat grinder of the music industry when they failed to produce a hit.

Put your dancing shoes and be ready to kill the dancefloor, the intoxicating highlife music known as Edo Funk from Benin City, Nigeria is back. Following the planetary success of our „Edo Funk Explosion Vol.1“ project we have now unearthed „No Food Without Taste If By Hunger“ by „The Good Samaritans“, one of the most obscure Nigerian album ever recorded. Originally released in 1982, the bands first album is full of bouncy basslines, raw trance-like grooves and tripped-out psychedelic guitars, a funk experience unlike any other.

„The Good Samaritans“ is Philosopher Okundaye’s own Edo-Funk project, under which name he produced four albums, all recorded at Phonodisk Studio in Ijebu-Igbo east of Lagos with a 24 track. Okundaye who played many instruments, engaged the right musicians for each project and mixed the whole thing himself, is known as the composer of a large part of Benin City’s celebrated hits in the 80s. His name keeps popping up but somehow his role in the scene remains a bit hazy, giving the character an image of something like the gray eminence of Edo funk.

Due to its private pressing in a probably very small edition, „No Food Without Taste If By Hunger“ is very difficult to find. With this reissue limited to 2000 copies - newly mastered by Nick Robbins and approved by Philosopher Okundaye himself - „The Good Samaritans“ make a welcome and long-overdue return to turntables around the world in a beautiful Silk-Screen printed cover and an orange colored vinyl pressed on 180g high quality vinyl. This is funk stripped down to its primal essence, driving rhythms mixed with highlife horns, sweet keyboards and psychedelic guitar riffs, pushing the limits of dance moves towards cosmic dancefloors.

Leaning against a wall, his shirt unbuttoned to his navel and cradling a tumbler of something strong and sophisticated, Tony Igiettemo looks every bit the smooth talking 80s gent. When you put Hot Like Fire on the turntable and drop the needle, however, it is immediately clear that Smooth Tony is also a little bit freaky. Sirens, slap bass, squelchy synths and a titchy high hat that just won't give up, Hot Like Fire is a cosmic call from a dance floor on the far side of the universe. Produced by John Malife – the go-to man in Nigeria when you wanted your funk freaky – it's driven by a heavy low end that compels you to move. 'Baby You Can Do It' is Boney M's 'Daddy Cool' via a sweaty Nigerian dance floor. 'I Feel So Good' has a Kool & The Gang vibe, albeit with a freaky, warbling synth. And 'Hot Like Fire' is a strange reggae/funk fusion, fuelled by the righteous herb. 'We Are One' and 'Africa Must Unite', meanwhile, are post-disco, reggae-tinged calls for African Unity. 'Rock Your Baby' is the album's most relentless dance floor banger and sums up its ethos best. Clap your hands everybody and get down on it. Tony Igiettomo is here to make your body move. - Peter Moore

Before becoming an international musical phenomenon, raï was first and foremost the expression of a social behaviour, of a way of being. It bothers, excites, seduces, but leaves no one indifferent! Delving into the deepest recesses of raï, this compilation serves as a tribute to its roaring years, but also as a rejuvenation of the genre in its sulphurous, subterranean version. It seemed like a good idea to dig into nearly untraceable cassettes, thus confirming it's in the oldest of Oranese pots that the very best of raï is to be found. Just 50 years ago, no one would have believed even a bit in a genre seemingly bound to forever turn round and round in its native Oran, laying low in one of its many coastal road clubs. In these underground venues, singers - backed up by a minimalist orchestration for lack of space - would move their audience to laughs and tears, sobbing in a beer or chuckling down (dry) whisky. Either way, the public would unfailingly be moved by their defying tunes, sounding like a challenge to the established, self-righteous order of things - complete with trumpets, electric guitars, accordions and an array of percussions. Through the pre and post-independence years, from 1950 to 1970, raï urbanised itself, with a generation growing up between asphalt and concrete to the sound of traditional flute, but also and mostly listening to twist, French variété and rock music. Their names were Boutaïba S'ghir, Messaoud Bellemou, Groupe El Azhar, Younès Benfissa or Zergui, and they passed on their collection of songs to the incoming "Chebs" -breathing a second youth into them. Oran, the capital of West-Algeria, will be at the heart of this rejuvenation. Raï's success was overwhelming, so much so that in 1985 - when it appeared at the Youth Festival in Alger and when Oran held its first raï festival - the Algerian authorities hastened to nationalise the genre, all the while calling for its "normalisation" (that is, the "purification" of its lyrics), and to declare it "an integral part...

Continuing Four Flies' dedication to delving into lesser-explored periods of Italian music, Africamore takes us on a captivating journey into the intersection of Afro-funk and the Italian soundscape during the six years between 1973 and 1978 - a time when disco was looming on the horizon and the nightclub market was rapidly expanding.

Before reaching Italian shores, the infectious sound originating from African and Afro-Caribbean roots traversed both the Mediterranean and the Atlantic, landing on New York dancefloors, where DJ Dave Mancuso discovered "Soul Makossa" by Manu Dibango. In 1973, from Mancuso's Loft parties, the song's hypnotic groove spread to the rest of the globe, including in Italy, where it sparked a wave of imitations and variations.

Tribal influences thus found their way into Italian soul-funk and early-disco productions released between 1973 and 1978 – from psychedelic-tinged tunes like Jean Paul & Angelique's "Africa Sound"to the Afrobeat-inspired club banger "Kumbayero" by composer/producer Albert Verrecchia (aka Weyman Corporation); and from groundbreaking Afro-cosmic songs like Chrisma's "Amore", co-written by Vangelis and featuring the rhythms of Ghanaian-British Afro-rock band Osibisa, to mind-blowing floor-fillers like Beryl Cunningham's "Why O", a re-write of Nat King Cole's "Calypso Blues" arranged by Paolo Ormi, with percussion breaks that sound pretty much like what would later become known as techno.

Combining feel-good vibes with driving rhythms, world-style percussion, and even synths, all these productions pushed the boundaries of dance music at a time when disco had not yet taken over. In doing so, they sowed many of the seeds of the later Italian cosmic scene and its unique mixture of African elements, disco-funk and electronic music.

This was a brief but nuanced period in Italian music history, one that deserves to be rediscovered, with love.

In 2010, against all odds, Angola Soundtrack Vol.1 was awarded the German Record Critics' Prize in the category "Black music". This victory was all the sweeter for its triumph over the predicted winner, Aloe Blacc's multi platinium record, "Good Things". Many were surprised that the award was handed to a compilation that covered obscure music, but it didn't surprise the team behind Analog Africa who believed such award should have come much earlier. Since discovering the music of Angola 15 years ago, styles such Kazucuta, Rebita and Semba have become an addiction for Samy Ben Redjeb, the compiler, who proclaimed a serious warning in the first edition liner notes:

"Listening to these tracks may cause addiction and provoke heavy rotation!"

Angola Soundtrack Vol.2 - Hypnosis, Distortions & other Sonic Innovations 1969-1978 - The unique blend of incomparable musicianship, passionate delivery and regional rhythms that make these tracks so combustible are no accident. An exceptional set of circumstances existed in the history of Angola before Independence that created the giant leap in the style and standard of bands and recordings of the time.

When Portuguese repressive measures prevented the small Turmas, street musician groups, from being able to perform in Carnaval celebrations in 1961, a Portuguese civil servant, entrepreneur and Angolan music fan named Luis Montês was already in a position to capitalise on Luanda's need for a live music scene. His self-designed "Kutonocas", Sunday afternoon live music festivals, delighted a Luandan population hungry for a communication between the city and musseques (townships). It also forced groups to adapt to a different style of playing that would accommodate large stages and broader audiences. They equipped themselves with electric guitars, and fed on the musical influences from Cape Verde, Congo and the Dominican Republic, while staying patriotically true to their own musical legacy and unique rhythms.

The intimacy of those participating in this musical revolution meant they playfully and professionally wanted to trump each other's style; communication between the groups was frequent as everyone studied each other's records and concerts and players were under a lot of pressure to outdo each other due to the limited recording and performing opportunities. Development of skill and ingenuity was a must, as well as addressing the highly politicised climate. The optimism of Independence can be heard in these recordings; a common goal between the audience and musicians.

Upon reading the characteristically generous liner notes of this new Analog Africa release, you will be given more hints of the crucial melting pot that allowed this short period to have such an outstanding productivity. Featuring 44 pages acquired in coordination with the National Library of Luanda and the art magazine "Note E Dia", Analog Africa head honcho Samy Ben Redjeb has managed to collect newspaper clips, extremely rare pictures of the bands on stage and printed interviews from the 70s.

The stunning pages of passionate photography and artistic design also include interviews with many of the original artists and their families, biographies of the three labels that made it all possible, and of Luis Montês, who was the pulse of the live music scene in Luanda. This compilation is a dedication to the short lived recording industry in Angola, a brief moment of history between 1969 and 1978 in which three recording companies produced approximately 800 records, mostly singles. They are rare jewels, each song with a significant story and feel behind it. You will hear exciting music blazed with the anticipation of emancipation, tracks fuelled with a sense of unity, community, importance and immediacy.

This addictive, outlawed music from Angola shakes and grooves with the smoothness of staccato machine gun fire. Do yourself a favor and submerge yourself into some of the most addictive music created by mankind!

Yaoundé, in the 1970´s, was a buzzing place. Every neighbourhood of Cameroon´s capital, no matter how dodgy, was flled with music spots but surprisingly there were no infrastructure to immortalise those musical riches. The country suffered from a serious lack of proper recording facilities, and the process of committing your song to tape could become a whole adventure unto itself. Of course, you could always book the national broadcasting company together with a sound engineer, but this was hardly an option for underground artists with no cash. But luckily an alternative option emerged in form of an adventist church with some good recording equipment and many of the artists on this compilation recorded their frst few songs, secretly, in these premises thanks to Monsieur Awono, the church engineer. He knew the schedule of the priests and, in exchange for some cash, he would arrange recording sessions. The artists still had to bring their own equipment, and since there was only one microphone, the amps and instruments had to be positioned perfectly. It was a risky business for everyone involved but since they knew they were making history, it was all worth it. At the end of the recording, the master reel would be handed to whoever had paid for the session, usually the artist himself..and what happened next? With no distribution nor recording companies around this was a legitimate question. More often then not it was the french label Sonafric that would offer their manufacturing and distribution structure and many Cameroonian artist used that platform to kickstart their career. What is particularly surprising in the case of Sonafric was their willingness to take chances and judge music solely on their merit rather than their commercial viability. The sheer amount of seriously crazy music released also spoke volumes about the openness of the people behind the label.But who exactly are these artists that recorded one or two songs before disappearing, never to be heard from again? Some of the names were so obscure that even the most seasoned veterans of the Cameroonian music scene had never heard of them. A few trips to the land of Makossa and many more hours of interviews were necessary to get enough insight to assemble the puzzle-pieces of Yaoundé’s buzzing 1970s music scene. We learned that despite the myriad diffculties involved in the simple process of making and releasing a record, the musicians of Yaoundé’s underground music scene left behind an extraordinary legacy of raw grooves and magnifcent tunes. The songs may have been recorded in a church, with a single microphone in the span of only an hour or two, but the fact that we still pay attention to these great creations some 50 years later, only illustrates the timelessness of their music.

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.’

In the spring of 1968 a cargo ship was preparing to leave the port of Baltimore with an important shipment of musical instruments. Its final destination was Rio De Janeiro, where the EMSE Exhibition (Exposição Mundial Do Son Eletrônico) was going to be held. It was the first expo of its kind to take place in the Southern Hemisphere and many of the leading companies in the field of electronic music were involved. Rhodes, Moog, Farfisa, Hammond and Korg, just to name a few, were all eager to present their newest synthesisers and other gadgets to a growing and promising South American market, spearheaded by Brazil and Colombia.

The ship with the goods set sail on the 20th of March on a calm morning and mysteriously disappeared from the radar on the very same day. One can only imagine the surprise of the villagers of Cachaço, on the Sao Nicolau island of Cabo Verde, when a few months later they woke up and found a ship stranded in their fields, in the middle of nowhere, 8 km from any coastline.

After consulting with the village elders, the locals had decided to open the containers to see what was inside – however gossip as scintillating as this travels fast and colonial police had already arrived and secured the area. Portuguese scientists and physicians were ordered to the scene and after weeks of thorough studies and research, it was concluded that the ship had fallen from the sky. One of the less plausible theories was that it might have fallen from a Russian military air carrier. The locals joked that again the government had wasted their tax money on a useless exercise, as a simple look at the crater generated by the impact could explain the phenomena. “No need for Portuguese rocket scientists to explain this!” they laughed.

What the villagers didn’t know, was that traces of cosmic particles were discovered on the boat. The bow of the ship showed traces of extreme heat, very similar to traces found on meteors, suggesting that the ship had penetrated the hemisphere at high speed. That theory also didn't make sense as such an impact would have reduced the ship to dust. Mystery permeated the event.

Finally, a team of welders arrived to open the containers and the whole village waited impatiently. The atmosphere, which had been filled with joy and excitement, quickly gave way to astonishment. Hundreds of boxes conjured, all containing keyboards and other instruments which they had never seen before: and all useless in an area devoid of electricity. Disappointment was palpable. The goods were temporarily stored in the local church and the women of the village had insisted a solution be found before Sunday mass.

It is said that charismatic anti-colonial leader Amílcar Cabral had ordered for the instruments to be distributed equally in places that had access to electricity, which placed them mainly in schools. This distribution was best thing that could have happened - keyboards found fertile grounds in the hands of curious children, born with an innate sense of rhythm who picked up the ready-to-use instruments. This in turn facilitated the modernisation of local rhythms such as Mornas, Coladeras and the highly danceable music style called Funaná, which had been banned by the Portuguese colonial rulers until 1975 due to its sensuality!

The observation was made that the children who came into contact with the instruments found on the ship inherited prodigious capabilities to understand music and learn instruments. One of them was the musical genius Paulino Vieira, who by the end of the 70s would become the country´s most important music arranger. 8 out of the 15 songs presented in this compilation had been recorded with the backing of the band Voz de Cabo Verde, lead by Paulino Vieira, the mastermind behind the creation and promulgation of what is known today as “The Cosmic Sound of Cabo Verde”.

We thought turning five this year would be a good reason to ask some friendly DJs and producers to go through our catalogue and select their favorite track to do an edit or remix on.
The first selection by DJ Nomad from Berlin is Barbara Hernandez' 'All Nite Tonight', written and produced by Leston Paul from Trinidad. Nomad's edit drives the song's dance floor ambition even further beyond the top. As a DJ Nomad does not necessarily put a label on his style, but always expresses love for Polyrythms, Soulful harmonies and the African drums and Percussion. He's notorious for finding fresh world music dance tracks all around the globe, before they become hits, and a massive collector of Tropical Soul, Funk and Disco.
His energetic and surprising , always fresh DJ set's earned him a residency in Paris's infamous ‚Tropical Discoteq’ Parties among the best Dj's of the genre. He is the founder of ‚Vulkandance’ Parties, Blog and Label in Berlin .. He's together with Edna Martinez cofounder of ’El Volcan’ - The first continental European Colombian Pico Soundsystem. As a Producer he's breaking ground and travelling the world together with Dirk Leyers and the transcultural Project Africaine 808, besides working as a master Editor for other artists around the globe. Keshav Singh who is part of Trinidadian/British production duo Jus Now put his hands on Trinidad's Mansa Musa's ’Beat The Drum’.
Being a percussionist in his own right he transformed the song into a housy Soca track and pure dance floor fiah! With his partner Sam Interface, he has produced soca music with EDM influence for Bunji Garlin, Machel Montano and 3Canal. Keshav commutes between Trinidad and the U.K.
The next two tracks are taken from our upcoming compilation ’Gotta Nice Buzz - The Funky Sound of Semp Studios Trinidad, W.I.’. French DJ & record collector Waxist gives Zodiac's ’I Believe’ a proper treatment. ’I Believe’, written by Francis Escayg, is an uptempo Caribbean Disco tune with a strong Giorgio Moroder influence with Denise Plummer on vocals.
Waxist, based in Lyon, France, started his love story with records as a teenager when he bought his first reggae 7 inches. If his love for Jamaican music has survived through the years, the DJ has progressively extended his interests to different, more dancefloororiented music genres like Disco, Modern Soul, Boogie or even a touch of House when needed... Being careful with the technique, as well as with the coherency of his selection, his sets are an invite to a dancing musical journey taking the audience from Disco to Modern Soul, through more Caribbean or Brazilian sounds.

The Soninke collective consciousness finds its origins in a founding myth, a blood pact: the legend of Biida and the decadence of the empire of Ghana or Wagadu (evoked by Léopold Sédar Senghor as a land of plenty in his poem Le Kaya Magan). From the 3rd century AD, gathered in the region of Sahel, on the edge of the Sahara desert, the Soninko ruled over their kingdom and its capital Kumbi Saleh. According to folklore, they were blessed with abundant rain and nuggets of gold could be picked directly from the ground. They owed this prosperity to a providential but cruel protector: the Wagadu Biida, a seven-headed serpent who lived at the bottom of the Kumbi well. Every year, as a reward for his favours, the Biida demanded an offering: the life of the most beautiful virgin woman in the community. Sacrifices took place for generations, until the 13th century AD, when fate chose Siya Yatabéré, Maamadi Sehedunxote's sweetheart... Centuries later in 1977, Gaye Mody Camara, a young Soninke raised in Mali's Kayes region, settled in France to found his own empire. Initially selling wax, kola nuts and other goods in his Parisian outlets, he rapidly started distributing cassette tapes and eventually producing a multitude of recordings for his own label: Camara Production. Crossing paths and collaborating over the next four decades with legendary artists, griots and industry moguls like Boncana Maïga, Jean-Philippe Rykiel, Ganda Fadiga, Diaby Doua or Ibrahima Sylla, Camara became one of the great independent music producers of his generation, and a pilar of the Parisian Soninke diaspora. Released in close collaboration with Gaye Camara and with the assistance of Daouda N'diaye, one of A.P.S' (Association pour la Promotion de la langue et de la culture Soninké) historical members, this selection of songs and accompanying notes aim to shed a light on an intricate culture and its modern music, injustifiably unknown outside of West Africa and the various Soninko diasporas around the world. From Malian Zouk to Mauritanian Reggae and other psychedelic groovers originally released on cassettes or digitally, we have given the utmost attention to bringing this music to a new format. It has been carefully remastered and pressed on a couple of 180g vinyls, with riso printed liner notes.

Vibro Success Intercontinental Orchestra was an extraordinary group from the Central African Republic, founded by the sax player Rodolphe 'Beckers' Bekpa, also known as Master Békers, in the late 60's. The band achieved surprising domestic success after Beckers introduced the first drums to the Congolese Rumba rhythm. His innovation proved to be wildly popular so they were hired as the resident band of “ciel d’Afrique au Km5”, a night club in Bangui. The club was renowned as the temple of the Olympic Réal football team's fans and that visibility propelled them into becoming the official national orchestra. 1970 marked beginning of the band's international fame . Their fame spread beyond national borders until they became so popular that invitations began to arrive from nearby countries like Cameroon and Chad, the former of which the band would then tour that same year. The success of their performances prompted a further tour in 1972. According to Rodolphe Bépka, the audience enthusiasm Vibro encountered was bewildering. "We filled the old military stadium in Yaoundé in 1970, in 1972 the new Amadou Haïdjo stadium ... We are running with great success in the cities.” Their popularity was also growing in Chad, where they would tour several times through the early and mid 70's.

Towards the end of 1976, Vibro Success decided to take their music global and introduce Central African music to listeners worldwide. It worked. The turning point came in Nigeria. There the group achieved extraordinary success, with live performances followed by contracts with local labels like Scottie and Ben/Clover resulting in hit releases. Most of their LP's were originally released on this later label, Ben Limited, owned by Ben Okonkwo.

Ben, also known as Clover Sounds, brought a great number of the biggest bands from the country to market, bands like The Apostles, Akwassa,The Doves, Aktion, The Visitors, Mansion, Folk 77 and many others. Nearly all those groups started their recording careers in the label's studios based in the commercial heart of Aba, Abia State, one of Southeastern Nigeria’s largest cities. Aba at that time was a flourishing city, an important crossroads of people and culture with an intensive and active and cutting edge live music and nightlife.

But after that golden era the group began to lose its popularity. In the 1980's they returned to Bangui and resumed their old-time gigs in dance halls there - only to realize that their music didn't have the appeal it used to. Making matters worse, the domestic economic downturn accelerated, forcing the orchestra to slowly end its activities . Vibro Succès Intercontinental Orchestra disappeared at the end of the 80s and most of its members died in the 90s. We discovered this LP during our first trip to Nigeria in 2016. While traveling in the east to meet up with a musician, we stopped for a night in a village. As often happens in Nigeria, information has a way of traveling fast. The news that a couple of white guys looking for records had arrived in the village the day before spread like light. When we awoke, we found a couple of elderly music lovers in the hall of our hotel with a little pile of records for sale. The nice cover of the “Drunkard” album was right on top! At first we thought it was just another really good soukous album made by Vibro Success but after we heard “Drunkard” - we knew we had stumbled onto something very special. That was the “easy” part. Soon after, we had the idea of reissuing this LP and that was a bit harder. There were no credits on the cover and not much information about Vibro Succès. We started to ask to our friends to ask around, see if somebody knew them or the producer. That's when sadly we discovered that Ben Okonkwo had passed. So with no leads to follow and seemingly without any possibility of making progress on the matter, we "gave up" and returned to Italy. A couple years later, in the summer of 2019, we found ourselves again in Aba. This time we had the chance to meet Nnamdi Okonkwo, the eldest son of the late Ben Okonkwo. After Nnamdi's mother and family agreed, he was glad to cooperate with us for the re-release of this special album. One of the foundational beliefs of Dig This Way Records is to work hard and try to do everything possible to bring back this rare, unknown music to market, allow people to enjoy these beautiful, vibrant vibes!