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10 brilliant tracks from 1960’s Sierra Leone by the wildly popular S.E. Rogie!
S.E. Rogie went from running a tailor shop in Sierra Leone to being one of West Africa's most popular artists. He toured around the country, singing his palm wine music in multiple local languages, created his own record label, and was known as the most handsome man in Sierra Leone. He formed the highlife band The Morningstars in 1965. In 1973, he came to the Bay Area to live and expand his base, performing everywhere from local high schools and convalescent homes to festivals and large stages. In his later life he hit the road again and toured the world, eventually passing away while on stage in Russia in 1994.
He shared the following songwriting wisdom with his son, Rogee Rogers: “When you write a song, you can be complicated if you want, but your chorus should be that anybody can sing it.”
These tracks were originally released on his own Rogie label in the 1960s and include solo, ensemble, and Morningstars songs, most of which have never been reissued until now.
“When the mbira is played, it brings the two worlds together, the world of our ancestors and the world of today.” Ephat Mujuru (1950-2001)
Ephat Mujuru exemplifies a unique generation of traditional musicians in Zimbabwe. Born under an oppressive colonial regime in Southern Rhodesia, his generation witnessed the brutality of the 1970s liberation struggle, and then the dawn of independent Zimbabwe, a time in which African music culture—long stigmatized by Rhodesian educators and religious authorities—experienced a thrilling renaissance.
Ephat was raised in traditional Shona culture in a small rural village in Manicaland, near the Mozambique border. His grandfather and primary caretaker, Muchatera Mujuru, was a respected spirit medium, and master of the mbira dzavadzimu, a hand-held lamellophone used in Shona religion to make contact and receive council from deceased ancestors. There are many lamellophones in Africa, but none with the musical complexity and spiritual significance of the mbira dzavadzimu. Ephat’s first memories were of elaborate ceremonies, called biras that featured all-night music and dancing, millet beer, the sacrifice of oxen and a profound experience of connecting with ancestors. Under the tutelage of his grandfather, Ephat showed an early talent for the rigors of mbira training, playing his first possession ceremony when he was just ten years old.
But from the moment he entered school, Ephat experienced Rhodesian racism and cultural oppression. Nuns at his Catholic school told him that to play the mbira was “a sin against God.” Enraged by this, Ephat’s grandfather sent him to school in an African township near the capital of Salisbury (present-day Harare). By then, guerilla war was engulfing the country and Muchatera tragically became a victim of the violence, a devastating blow to the young musician. Lonely and alienated in the city, Ephat reached out to other mbira masters—Mubayiwa Bandambira, Simon Mashoko and an “uncle” Mude Hakurotwi.
In 1972 Ephat formed his first group, naming it for one of the most beloved Shona ancestors, Chaminuka. In the midst of the liberation struggle, mbira music became political. Singer and bandleader Thomas Mapfumo began interpreting mbira songs with an electric dance band, creating chimurenga (loosely “struggle”) music, named for the independence fighters.
Ephat and Chaminuka had their first success with the single “Guruswa.” Ephat once recalled, “We were talking about our struggle to free ourselves,” explained Ephat. “In ancient Africa, in the time of our ancestors, they had none of the problems we have today.” The problems he spoke of—subjugation, cultural oppression and mass poverty—were purely the results of colonization. “We wanted the place to be like it was, before colonization.”
The Rhodesians were defeated, but rather than return to the past, the nation of Zimbabwe was born and a new future unfolded. Ephat threw himself into the spirit of independence, helping to found the National Dance Company of Zimbabwe and becoming the first African music instructor at the formerly all-Western Zimbabwe College of Music. Ephat renamed his band Spirit of the People and recorded his first album in 1981, using only mbira, hand drums, hosho and singers. He sang of brotherhood, healing, and unity: crucial themes during a time when the nation’s two dominant ethnic groups, the Shona and the Ndebele, were struggling to reconcile differences.
Ephat’s band would eventually follow the popular trend and add electric instruments. But before that, he and Spirit of the People released two all-acoustic albums, and they may well be the most exciting and beautiful recordings he made in his career. Mbavaira, the second of these albums, was released in 1983. The title itself is not easy to translate. A Shona speaker with deep cultural knowledge observed that he could not find an exact English counterpart, but that it was “something like ‘chaos.’”
Mbavaira came out on Gramma Records, the country’s only label at the time. Gramma was still finding its way in a vastly changed music market. Guitar bands were ascendant and lots of new talent was emerging. As the independence years moved on, there would be fewer and fewer commercial mbira releases. But for the moment, Ephat had the required stature and reputation. Also, with the energy and drive we hear in these recordings, the album could easily rival the pop music of its day.
Ephat had long since mastered a large repertoire of traditional mbira songs and developed his own approach to arranging them. He had also become a gifted composer, although, with mbira music, it is often hard to draw a clear line between arranging and composing. Certain mbira pieces are like the 12-bar blues form or the “I Got Rhythm” changes in jazz: one can always create a new song from the existing template. But when you listen to Ephat’s feisty refrain on the song “Kwenda Mbire” (“Going to Mbire”), you just know it came from him. Ephat was a small, almost elfin, man, but he had the most exuberant personality and it comes through with particular clarity on that track.
An mbira ensemble typically uses at least two mbiras, playing separate interlocking parts so that it can be difficult to tell who is playing what. The sound becomes one. The only required percussion is the gourd rattle called hosho. It plays a very specific triplet rhythm and it has to be strong and solid to ensure that the mbira parts line up perfectly. Otherwise, the spirit will not come! The call-and-response vocals are also distinctive, a mix of hums and cries and melodic refrains, often punctuated by joyous ululations.
The tonality of a song like “Mudande” is moody, even a little dark. But the melodies that emerge have a remarkable way of turning wistfulness into merriment. The song title means “in Dande,” Dande being a remote northern region in Zimbabwe known for its inhospitable climate and deeply entrenched traditional culture.
Mbira is a healing music. Ephat once recalled, “When I was with Bandambira and Simon Mashoko, I was very surprised at what really made them happy. My grandfather was a very happy person. They had respect.” Ephant contrasted this happiness with the sour demeanor of the whites who condescended to him in Salisbury in his youth. “Somebody who wants to suppress another person is very unhappy.”
Within a few years after the release of Mbavaira, it and albums like it became harder to find in Zimbabwean record stores. Ephat adapted to the times and formed an electric band. “People were surprised,” he recalled. “They said, ‘Are you not going to play your mbira the way you did before?’ I said, I haven't changed anything. It's like me learning Shona and English, or French or Japanese. It's adding to the knowledge. The old one doesn't go away. When you buy a new jacket, you don't throw the old one away.” And indeed, when he began frequenting the UK and the United States, he would record more, mostly acoustic, albums.
But none of them have the particularly delicious energy of Spirit of the People in the first years of Zimbabwe’s independence. The final track on Mbavaira is a popular Shona hunting song, “Nyama Musango,” literally “Meat in the forest.” As elsewhere, Ephat does not sing the lead, leaving that role to his razor-voiced uncle, Mude Hakurotwi, with his mastery of timbres and rich repertoire of traditional vocables.
It was a tragedy to lose Ephat in 2001. He died from a heart attack shortly after landing at Heathrow Airport, en route to teach and perform in the U.S.. No doubt, he had much more to offer, for as he liked to say, “Mbira is like a sea. It's not a small river. You are getting into the big sea. So I try to show them the Indian Ocean, the Pacific, the Atlantic. What I'm trying to bring now to this music, through all the experiences I've had, is unity.” True unity has been difficult to achieve in Zimbabwe, given its combative history, but if anything could do the trick, this music might be the thing.
Banning Eyre
Senior Producer for Afropop Worldwide


Coming from a diverse background of equal amounts hip hop and rock, the producer behind the alias of nrl:ndr got into dance music late in his musical career. After playing in kraut-oriented bands like So Many Mammals, parts of that group reformed into the live techno outfit Tren Né, with the goal of fusing techno elements with live drums. Playing for illegal raves with a punk-like energy, nrl:ndr has cemented his relationship with his machines in service of the dance floor.
But his solo debut on blundar is quite far removed from that scene. To understand this music, one should be aware of the conditions under which it was manufactured. Reluctant to consider himself an artist in the traditional sense, nrl:ndr makes his music free of anticipation and without apparent goals. To glean into this outré musical space is like putting one's ear to the boarded up windows of the photograph that adorn the front sleeve.
The album makes extensive use of the Roland JV-2080, a sample-based synth rack from 1996 with a distinctly clean sound. Our producer dives deep into the expansion cards (labeled after genres like “Hip Hop” and “World”) for curious and sometimes cheesy samples. But he also forces the JV-2080 to do things which are not its forte, like the arduous task of programming decent kick drums.
Another technique that is testament to his experimental view on music making, is the idea of using sketches of unfinished tracks with different time signatures, and mash them together into something new - of which the results of one of these experiments can be heard on the closing track and its bilingual conversation between ambient and tribal.
Full of stunted rhythms and eerie melodies, the unclassifiable nature of the music of nrl:ndr lies somewhere in the vicinity of IDM, classical avant garde and private press synth. From the epic opening track - echoing the post-kraut drumming style of Michael Shrieve - to juggling with chopped up vocal samples and treading into almost trap-like territories on A4, he crosses into a multitude of genres without getting his hands too dirty with nostalgia.
Text by: Simon Eliasson
Vinyl release; 200 numbered copies, transparent 180gr LP.
Streaming available on Tidal, Apple Music, Youtube Music & Spotify.


‘Catpack’, from Los Angeles trio Amber Navran (of Moonchild), Jacob Mann and Phil Beaudreau, is the cats meow. The quirky, light-hearted project features 11 tracks, including the singles ‘What I've Found’, and ‘Walk Away’.
The genuine camaraderie and mutual admiration shared among the three creatives is palpable in its organic, joyful exploration of musical expression. Amber adds “to me it’s three people with distinct sounds who love and admire each other, coming together to make something new”. The result is an authentic convergence of their artistry, drawing on their influences to harness a jazz-influenced R&B sound, with neo-soul, funky and electronic motifs. The whimsical namesake is taken from a synth patch resembling cats meowing that they discovered in the studio and an ingenious merch idea that followed (search Google for catpacks).
‘What I’ve Found’ is the group's debut single and a song, both lyrically and musically, about being sick of holding back and not taking up too much space. Built from the Roland Juno synthesiser, ‘What I’ve Found’ is a creative symbiosis between the three band members, who unapologetically all go full in, running with every idea that is thrown into the hat. The outcome is a complementary cohesion built on mutual respect and appreciation. Talking about the meaning of the new single, Amber explains: "Sometimes, in the journey of finding your inner strength and knowing your worth, people close to you become uncomfortable with you taking up more space. They’re used to the small version of you, or their own self-worth is tied to their perceived position above you. This song is a middle finger to the people who can’t love you as you shine brighter and brighter and a love letter to the new, beautiful you".
Second single, the witty, funk-laden “Walk Away”, exudes confidence both in its composition and conviction, serving as “a reminder that.. if things don’t start changing, then it could be time to go”. Jacob’s dynamic, funky synth-scape rises and falls to make space for Amber’s delicate, hazy vocal and chirping flute lines. The lyrics are coolly self-possessed, asserting, “I know how to walk away” and “Somethings got to change. Don’t you go forgetting”. The no-nonsense delivery is upheld by gingery instrumentation, with layers of staccato synths, guitar, Corey Fonville’s percussion and statement trumpet.
Elsewhere on the album “Next To Me” is an amusing jest about the extremes of an all-consuming devotion to someone, urging a partner to "take vitamin C and wear their sunscreen in the quest for an enduring love. The humour is carried through in the meowing synth, layered over Amber and Phil’s buttery harmonies.
Phil emotionally summarises the wholesomeness of the project: “I don’t know if I’ve ever felt more like myself than when I’m making music with Amber and Jacob…. It’s an amazing feeling to work with people whose art you’re in awe of, but it’s something deeper when there’s space for friendship. That chemistry is a gift, and it makes the work so easy to do.”

Many still see Louis Cole foremost as a drummer. nothing, Cole's fifth album and his third on Brainfeeder – released on 9th August 2024 – is bound to change that impression. Collaborating with the Metropole Orkest and Jules Buckley, he rejected the well-trodden path to orchestral renditions of his greatest hits and instead opted to compose a suite of brand new music for this project – bigger, bolder, and more expansive than ever. Yes, there are nods to his GRAMMY-nominated 2022 album Quality Over Opinion, but 15 of the 17 tracks included here are brand new. This is jazz. This is classical music. It's got that funk. You'll hear synths and loops. You'll hear a band and live drumming. There's a world class orchestra playing. Some pieces are ultra concise, whereas the sprawling ‘Doesn’t Matter’ surpasses the ten minute mark. To Cole, jazz has always been the one place where you can really let go of all expectations – on nothing, he is putting the music where his mouth is.
The Metropole Orkest proved to be the ideal partner for this endeavor. Over the course of its 80 year history, it has worked with legends like Ella Fitzgerald, Pat Metheny, and Herbie Hancock – exactly the kind of border-crossing mentality Cole was looking for. Add into the equation the conductor, arranger, curator and composer Jules Buckley and this really is a triple threat of epic proportions. Buckley is a unique and rare breed of artist – a GRAMMY winner who has redefined the rulebook of orchestral music and the role of a conductor.
Together, the ensemble embarked on a multi-date sold-out tour through Europe with the 50-piece orchestra, Cole's band, as well as guest stars like his long-time creative partner Genevieve Artadi. With the exception of a few vocal re-recordings and instrumental overdubs, everything you'll hear on nothing was culled from these ecstatic live dates.
This is remarkable because, almost until the very end, nothing was not actually an album. It was a collaboration, a series of concerts, a cross-over between two worlds. Cole had been eagerly waiting for an opportunity like this for years. His father had been a big classical music fan and as a kid, he'd absorbed a lot of that. Once he got the call to work on a project involving an orchestra, he instantly “went hard” with the writing. The finished recording encompasses 17 tracks and stretches across more than an hour of music – and still, a few more tracks had to be left on the cutting room floor.
Cole was looking for something very specific. The challenge was to create music that had a deep emotional impact, while also being really simple and straight-forward. Already at the earliest stages of his orchestral ambitions, he had tried and failed to achieve this ideal. It would remain an obsession for years. Even when nothing was still a live project, it didn't seem like he would be able to pull it off. And then, at the very last minute, Louis decided to give it one more go. One night, he sat down at the keyboard and instantly realised: “This is it!” He struck on the ideas and themes which would become the pivotal title track of the album.
Just as with many of the orchestral pieces, there was a clear vision of the feeling and the sound he was looking for. For “Ludovici Cole Est Frigus”, he based everything on a 30-40 chord progression at a pace of “one chord at a time”. Then, he went back in with the pencil tool and Logic, finding and weaving together little melodies. It was a slow, assiduous process. But working with an outside arranger was never an option: “It was the only way I was ever going to be happy with the results. This is my pure vision. It doesn't get blended in or mixed with anyone else's.”
Having already written and arranged the suite, Cole is also very proud of the mixing, an epic task in its own right. For a full nine months, he selected the best takes, tweaked the sonic balance and adjusted frequencies until the orchestral parts really shone. “I was sad when the mixing was over,” he laughs, “Sometimes, when I'm mixing my own solo stuff, I'll feel like a song needs a little magical dust. But mixing an entire orchestra and your own rhythm section, there's so much human energy! You don't have to add any magic. It was there the whole time.”






Hailing from Hiroshima, Meitei, unveils the final chapter of his transformative Kofū trilogy. “Kofū III” marks the apex of a musical journey that began in 2020, unraveling an introspective exploration of the artist's psyche while delving deep into the essence of Japanese culture. This latest release invites listeners into the innermost sanctums of Meitei's existence — a passage filled with serenity, self-discovery, and the triumphant conquest of personal demons.
Meitei's journey has been deeply intertwined with his surroundings. His move from bustling Kyoto to the tranquil rural town of Onomichi in Hiroshima wasn't just a change of location but a profound shift in his life. Navigating through the ebbs and flows of mental well-being, Meitei found solace in the quiet, low-key energy of Onomichi, where he began creating his distinctive brand of "ambient" music dedicated to resurrecting ‘lost Japanese moods’.
"Kofū III" is not just a collection of songs; it's a window into Meitei's mind, where he reflects on ‘the Japanese mental landscape,’ as experienced during the period of his return to his hometown. This album stands as a testament to Meitei's evolution, from his tentative inner quest to a state of deep healing.
"Kofū” and its precursor, "Kwaidan,” germinated in the solitude of Onomichi, embodying the mysterious, vanishing essence of Japan that Meitei unearthed in the shadows of his hometown. With "Kofū III," this exploration reaches its zenith, weaving musical landscapes that transcend temporal bounds. Each track vividly paints bygone eras and vignettes, all while drawing on the rich tapestry of Japanese literature and mindscapes.
Meitei introduces listeners to the tranquil Hiroshima countryside in 'Reimei,' while 'Hiroshima' reflects upon the city's transformation. It explores Meitei's intricate relationship with the city and contemplates the ever-changing visage of contemporary Japanese progress.
Within the sonic fabric of "Kofū III," "Shisei" brings listeners to Japan's past, when tattoos bore the name "Shisei." Fueled by Junichiro Tanizaki's "Shisei" narratives, the song paints a sensual tale of a tattooed man adorning a woman with a spider tattoo.
Meitei's authenticity shines through in "Kofū III," where complex emotions metamorphose into a kaleidoscopic fusion of lo-fi bliss. In "Yume-jūya," Meitei recounts a peculiar dream and the lingering anxiety it left behind. Also, inspired by the famous Japanese writer Soseki Natsume's "Yume-jūya," Meitei's interpretation offers his own perspective on this comical and bizarre tale.
"Edogawa Ranpo" stands as a mind-bending loop track that pays homage to the genius of the lesser-known Japanese author Edogawa Ranpo, a pioneer of the mysterious and bizarre. This experimental piece melds folklore, electronic rapture, and distortion, echoing Meitei's fascination with Ranpo's work since his elementary school days.
At the core of "Kofū III" lies "Heiwa," originally titled "1945," encapsulating Meitei's profound reflection on peace education in his hometown and the weighty significance of acknowledging historical tragedies. Its renaming as "Peace" symbolizes his personal odyssey towards understanding and reconciliation.
As Meitei concludes his Kofū trilogy, global listeners are invited to embark on this voyage to unearth the hidden treasures of Japanese culture and the depths of the human soul. "Kofū III" is a meditation on the intangible threads that bind us to our past - a portal to Japan's veiled history, capturing the essence of Japan's elusive spirit through the enigmatic landscapes of Meitei's inner terrains.
"Kofū III" is slated for release on December 1, 2023, in 180g LP, CD, and digital formats via KITCHEN. LABEL. Both LP and CD format are presented in a debossed sleeve with obi strip and include an accompanying 32-page booklet. This album is mastered by Chihei Hatakeyama in Tokyo, Japan.

