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A miraculous union of techno and dub reggae, featuring two tracks remixed by Mark Ernestus & Moritz von Oswald's Basic Channel, "Remake (Basic Reshape)" (1994) and "The Climax (Basic Reshape)" (2001) under the name Carl Craig-Paperclip People. A universal masterpiece of immersive ambient dub techno, remixed by von Oswald's Basic Channel.
unification of techno and dub reggae. An outstanding universal masterpiece of sound dub/minimal techno released in 1993 by Mark Ernestus & Moritz von Oswald's Basic Channel, repressed in 2025.
The distinctive sound of Linus is born from a delicate balance between folk, jazz, minimalism, chamber music and free improvisation. Starting as a duo, Ruben Machtelinckx and Thomas Jillings have always tried to infuse their compositions, which tend towards poetry and simplicity, with the ungraspable spirit of true open-minded improvisation. In the search of new stories to tell, it therefore did not come as a surprise that they chose to expand their palette by including both an eclectic mix of instruments (from banjo and Hardanger fiddle to electronics and an orchestral bass drum) and a range of collaborations with some unique voices in the world of improvised music. Showing much affinity for the thriving Norwegian scene, they collaborated with the likes of Nils Økland, Ingar Zach, Christian Wallumrød and Øyvind Skarbø, as well as Jakob Bro, Frederik Leroux and Niels Van Heertum.
On Light as Never, the second album by this constellation and the fifth by Linus overall, one no longer hears a meeting of different worlds, but rather the creation of a new one. A world where the blending of Scandinavian fiddle-tunes, abstract electronic soundscapes, meditatively repeating melodies and jazz-inspired free improv is no longer an experiment, but simply a state of mind. From the joyful interplay of Playful to the serenity of Ostinato, the microtonal alientation of Affirms Nothing to the wide-eyed energy of Conway, the almost bluesy warmth of Light as Never to the cold emptiness of Echo, nothing about these connections feels contrived. They simply represent a new outlook on improvised music.
Khadim is a stunning reconfiguration of the Ndagga Rhythm Force sound. The instrumentation is radically pared down. The guitar is gone; the concatenation of sabars; the drum-kit. Each of the four tracks hones in on just one or two drummers; otherwise the sole recorded element is the singing; everything else is programmed. Synths are dialogically locked into the drumming. Tellingly, Ernestus has reached for his beloved Prophet-5, a signature go-to since Basic Channel days, thirty years ago. Texturally, the sound is more dubwise; prickling with effects. There is a new spaciousness, announced at the start by the ambient sounds of Dakar street-life. At the microphone, Mbene Diatta Seck revels in this new openness: mbalax diva, she feelingly turns each of the four songs into a discrete dramatic episode, using different sets of rhetorical techniques. The music throughout is taut, grooving, complex, like before; but more volatile, intuitive and reaching, with turbulent emotional and spiritual expressivity.
Not that Khadim represents any kind of break. Its transformativeness is rooted in the hundreds upon hundreds of hours the Rhythm Force has played together. Nearly a decade has passed since Yermande, the unit’s previous album. Every year throughout that period — barring lockdowns — the group has toured extensively, in Europe, the US, and Japan. With improvisation at the core of its music-making, each performance has been evolutionary, as it turns out heading towards Khadim. “I didn’t want to simply continue with the same formula, says Ernestus. “I preferred to wait for a new approach. Playing live so many times, I wanted to capture some of the energy and freedom of those performances.” Though several members of the touring ensemble sit out this recording — sabar drummers, kit-drummer, synth-player — their presence abides in the structure and swing of the music here.
Lamp Fall is a homage to Cheikh Ibra Fall, founder of the Baye Fall spiritual community. The mosque in the city of Touba is known as Lamp Fall, because the main tower resembles a lantern. Soy duggu Touba, moom guey séen / When you enter Touba, he is the one who greets you. After a swift, incantatory start Mbene sings with reflective seriousness. Her voice swirls with reverb, over a tight, funky, propulsive interplay between synth and drums, threaded with one- two jabs of bass. Cheikh Ibra Fall mi may way, mo diayndiou ré, la mu jëndé ko taalibe… Cheikh Ibra Fall amo morome, aboridial / Cheikh Ibra Fall shows the way forward, he gives us strength, he gathers his disciples… Overflowing with grace, Cheikh Ibra Fall has no equal.
Interwoven with Wolof proverbs, Dieuw Bakhul is a recriminatory song about treachery, lies, and back-biting. Over moody, roiling synths and ominous, lean bass, Mbene throws out fluttering scraps of vocal, as if re-running old conversations in her head. The music shadows her despair to the verge of breakdown, at one moment seemingly so lost in thought and memories, that it threatens to disintegrate. Bayilene di wor seen xarit ak seen an da ndo… Dieuw bakhul, dieuw ñaw na / Stop judging your friends and companions… A lie is no good, a lie is ugly.
Khadim is a show-stopper; currently the centrepiece of Ndagga Rhythm Force live performances. The song is dedicated to Cheikh Ahmadou Bamba, aka Khadim, founder of the Mouride Sufi order. Serigne Bamba mi may wayeu / Serigne Bamba is the one who makes me sing. The verses name-check revered members of his family and brotherhood, like Sokhna Diarra, Mame Thierno, and Serigne Bara. Though Islam has been practised in Senegal for a millennium, it wasn’t until the start of the twentieth century that it began to thoroughly permeate ordinary Senegalese society, hand-in-hand with anti-colonialism. The verses here recall Bamba’s banishment by the French to Gabon, and later to Mauritania, in those foundational times. During exile, his captors once introduced a lion to his cell: gaïnde gua waf, dieba lu ci Cheikhoul Khadim / the lion doesn’t budge, it gives itself over to Cheikh Khadim. Deep, surging bass, steady kick-drum, and simple, reverbed chords on the off-beat lend the feel and impetus of steppers reggae. A reed plays snatches of a traditional Baye Fall melody; the dazzling polyrhythmic drumming is by Serigne Mamoune Seck. Mbene compellingly blends percussive vocalese, narrative suspense, exultant praise, introspection, and grievance.
Nimzat is a devotional tribute to Cheikh Sadbou, a contemporary of Bamba, buried in a mausoleum in Nizmat, in southern Mauritania. Way nala, kagne nala… souma danana fata dale / I call upon you and wonder about you… If I am overwhelmed, come to my aid. The town holds special significance for Khadr Sufism. An annual pilgrimage there is conducted to this day. The rhythm is buoyantly funky; the mood is sombre, reined-in, foreboding. Punctuated by peals of thunder, Mbene sings with restrained, intense reverence; huskily confidential, steadfast. Nanu dem ba Nimzat, dé ba sali khina / Let us go to Nimzat, to seal our devotion.
Salty club dogs Beau Wanzer, Lukid & Tapes agitate each to stuttering 2-step, juke and rave noise extents on a frazzled session for TTT
The five trax of ‘Borez’ see all three flock around mutual poles of briny electronics and nervily restless rhythm programming within a framework of shattered but sharply effective club music. The gibber-jawed juke garage of ‘Point of Some Return’ pitches them into diciest wormholes of teeth-chatter 2-step, next to the dry-humped slam and almost Drexciyan lines of distorted, scudding, coruscating leads to ‘Rubber Eater’ on its 7’ arc to lusher resolution.
‘Darnell Can’t Polish a Turd’ pulls focus to sourest, piquant frequencies and bolshy bass blasts in a sorta bucking roll cage like Somatic Responses gone happy hardcore, and ‘Xylone Xylophone’ follows down that metallic wormhole like Evelyn Glennie on a mazza to the fizzy machine funk of ‘Lomp’.
unification of techno and dub reggae. An outstanding universal masterpiece of sound dub/minimal techno released in 1993 by Mark Ernestus & Moritz von Oswald's Basic Channel, repressed in 2025.
following the success of their 2024 PPU EP "ramble in the rainbow", TAMTAM returns to their studio "where they dwell"
Swan Song
The vinyl LP at the heart of this éthiopiques 31 [tracks 2 to 11] was one of the very last vinyl records ever released in Ethiopia. But above all it represents, we felt, the absolute masterpiece of the Ethiopian Groove – the Swan Song of Swinging Addis. The album leaves a clear idea for posterity of the level of sophistication and mastery that modern Ethiopian music had achieved, before being crushed under the Stalino-military heel of the Derg – as the bloody revolution that was unfolding came to be called.
Ethiopia 1976.
The Revolution that broke out in February 1974 rolled on in a ruthless march. The whole of Ethiopian society was utterly stunned. The bouquets of flowers handed joyfully to the first tanks of the coup d'état were to wilt very rapidly. From September 1976 to February 1978, 18 months of Red Terror (the name given by the junta itself) spilled blood throughout the country. This fratricidal conflict took its heaviest toll among students and youth. The shift from feudalism to a cruel and primitive Stalinism left the country's citizens deeply traumatised, and snuffed out any pretence of activism, whatever the sector of society. This ice age was to last for seventeen long years.
ሙሉቀን፡መለሰ Mulukèn Mellèssè Muluqän Mälläsä
It was three tracks by Muluken that served as the opener for éthiopiques-1 more than 25 years ago. Seven more tracks appeared on éthiopiques-3 and 13, all accompanied by The Equators, which was soon to become the Dahlak Band.
The first track, Hédètch alu, also the very first piece that Muluken ever recorded, left audiences both unsettled and amazed. Reflecting the singer's extremely young age (he was just 17 at the time), this angelic voice mystified many, who thought they were in fact listening to a feminine voice. He was not yet 22 when he released his last vinyl record in 1976 with Kaifa Records (KF 39LP), one of the very last to be issued in Ethiopia, before the cassette tape became the dominant medium for music distribution – and before the new revolutionary regime put a stop to all independent musical life, via an unspeakable barrage of prohibitions and other persecutions.
Mulu qèn, literally, “A well filled day”. This tender maternal intention wasn't enough to ward off the cruelty of fate. His mother's premature death drove Muluken to leave his native Godjam, in northeast Ethiopia, to live with an uncle in Addis Ababa. Born Muluken Tamer, he took his uncle's last name – Mèllèssè.
The spelling Muluken appeared in his administrative records. Transcription of Amharic to the Latin alphabet, both in Ethiopia and for scholars, gives rise to controversies and quibbles that can never be neatly settled. French allows for a closer approximation of the original pronunciation, thanks to its battery of accent marks, confusing as they may be to anglophones.
Between rather accommodating administrative record-keepers and the various versions that pop up in interviews given by the artist, Muluken's year of birth oscillates between 1953 and 1955…
1954? One thing is certain: the artist's talent made itself known very early indeed, because he got his start in 1966-67, at the age of 13 or 14. Photos from the period attest to his extreme youth. It's a strange sort of initiation for a very young teenager to become a sensation in the heart of Addis's nightlife at the time, Woubé Bèrèha – the Wilds of Woubé. And what's more, in the club of the Queen of the Night, the Godjamé Assègèdètch Alamrèw herself, the very same that was portrayed by Sebhat Guèbrè-Egziabhér in his novel-memoir Les Nuits d’Addis Abeba2… The legendary female club owner who is remembered to this day by the capital's ageing boomers.
Muluken first tried his hand at the drums, before he grabbed the microphone. He emigrated briefly to the Zula Club, across the street from the old Addis Post Office, one of the ground-breaking bars of the burgeoning musical scene, before joining the Second Police Band in 1968, for around three years. He spent a few months with the short-lived Blue Nile Band founded by saxophonist Besrat Tammènè. As the musical scene grew increasingly successful, and pulled slowly but decisively away from its institutional ties, Muluken released his first 45rpm single in February 1972 (Amha Records AE 440). It was included in two LP Ethiopian Hit Parade compilation albums in September of the same year. All in all, Muluken released eight two-track 45s and the same number of original cassette tapes between February 1972 and 1984, the year that he departed for permanent exile in the USA. After converting to Pentecostalism in 1980, Muluken gradually abandoned all secular musical activity. In 1985, at the end of a concert in Philadelphia, he decided to quit concerts and recording for good. Mèlakè Gèbré, the historic bass player from the Walias band who was playing with him that night, recalls that everything appeared so irredeemably diabolical in Muluken's eyes, that it was to be the end of his contribution to Ethiopian Groove.
The end of the story, the beginning of a legend.
Dahlak Band, forgotten by History
Aside from his personal history and vocal talents, it must be remembered that Muluken Mèllèssè was one of the biggest names in the musical innovations that marked the end of the imperial period. These éthiopiques aim to convince those who are just discovering this hidden gem... As for Ethiopians themselves, they are to this day captivated by this singular and atypical figure in the Abyssinian pop landscape – even though he withdrew from public life some 40 years ago. Incorrigible devotees of poetic twists, of more or less hidden meanings, Ethiopians appreciate above all the care Muluken took in choosing his lyrics and the writers who penned them, such as Feqerte Haylou, Alemtsehay Wodajo and, here, Shewalul Mengistu (1944-1977). Love songs, written by women, a far cry from the conventional drivel that pleases sappy sentimentalists.
Muluken is equally acclaimed for his perfectionism when it came to music, the opposite of the overly casual approach that is all too common. He remained a faithful partner of musicians who came from a lineage that borrowed from several inventive and pioneering bands (Venus, Equators, Dahlak). Amongst them were certain artists who began their musical lives with Nersès Nalbandian at the Haile Sellassie Theatre and who come of age in around 1973 – at just the wrong time, you might say. Among them were the pillars Shimèlis Bèyènè (trumpet), Dawit Yifru (keyboards) and Tilayé Gèbrè (sax & flute). Most notably Tilayé Gèbrè, certainly one of the most important musicians, composers and arrangers of his generation, of the end of the imperial era, and of the early years of the Derg.
It was only in 1981 that a miraculous opportunity arose for Tilayé to escape the Stalinist paradise of the dictator Menguistou Haylè-Maryam. Once again it was Amha Eshèté (1946-2021) who provided a solution. The spirited and courageous producer, who had been in exile in Washington since 1975, succeeded, thanks to his incredible perseverence, in bringing the Walias Band to the USA. It was, in fact an extended Walias Band comprising ten musicians3, six of whom chose to slip away after a few concerts and the recording of an LP (The Best of Walias, WRS 100). Tilayé Gèbrè was one of these. He has been living in the USA ever since. There he joined the then-nascent Ethiopian diaspora, which lived largely unto itself, and was making only very modest headway in the American musical market. It seems unfair that Tilayé Gèbrè and the Dahlak Band were not able to benefit earlier from the public recognition that they do deserve.
A similar draining away of the top-rate talents would lead to the reorganization of the major groups of the “Derg Time”. The remaining artists spread themselves around between Ibex Band (renamed Roha Band), Ethio Star Band and a remodeled Walias Band. That spelled the end of the Dahlak Band.
With this record, produced by the essential Ali Abdella Kaifa a.k.a. Ali Tango, we can appreciate everything that the Derg not only destroyed, but also prevented from flourishing. This gem of Ethiopian-style afrobeat came out in 1976 (and, by way of a parenthesis, before the FESTAC 1977 in Lagos, which was attended by an impressive delegation of Ethiopian musicians — although Fela was already personna non grata in his own country). Despite everything that might distinguish this ethio-groove from Fela’s music – no colonial axe to grind, no question of political confrontation with the authorities, no claims to negritude or Africanism for the Ethiopian musicians, and less extrovertion! –, this LP fits beautifully into the saga of intense and electrified soul of the new “African” groove that Fela and Manu Dibango embodied so well from that point onwards.
In restoring this record to its place in the afrobeat epic, it can be seen that, if nothing else, the timeline bestows a legitimate pedigree and a historical primacy to works that had no international impact when they were originally released.
Warning! Masterpiece!
FRANCAIS
Le Chant du Cygne
L’album 33 tours au cœur de ces éthiopiques [plages 2 à 11] est l’un des derniers vinyles publié en Ethiopie, mais surtout il nous paraît être le chef-d’œuvre absolu de l’Ethiopian Groove – le Chant du Cygne du Swinging Addis. Il laisse à la postérité une idée claire du niveau de sophistication et de maîtrise qu’avait atteint la musique moderne éthiopienne avant d’être écrabouillée sous la botte militaro-stalinienne du Derg – le sigle qui signe la sanglante révolution en cours.
Ethiopie 1976.
La Révolution qui a éclaté en février 1974 avance à marche forcée. La société éthiopienne tout entière est brutalement étourdie. Les gerbes de fleurs offertes avec allégresse aux premiers tankistes du coup d’état ont très vite fané. Entre septembre 1976 et février 1978, 18 mois de Terreur Rouge (ainsi consacrée par la junte elle-même) vont ensanglanter le pays. La jeunesse estudiantine paiera le plus lourd tribut à ces vindictes fratricides. Passer d’une féodalité hors d’âge à un stalinisme primitif et cruel traumatisera pour longtemps chaque citoyen et étouffera toute velléité d’agitation, dans quelque champ de la société que ce soit. Cette glaciation durera dix-sept interminables années.
ሙሉቀን፡መለሰ Mulukèn Mellèssè Muluqän Mälläsä
C’est Muluken qui a ouvert éthiopiques-1 avec trois titres, voilà 25 ans et plus. Sept autres titres sont parus dans éthiopiques 3, 10 et 13, tous accompagnés par The Equators, qui deviendront bientôt le Dahlak Band.
Le titre inaugural, Hédètch alu, également premier morceau gravé par Muluken, a troublé et bluffé le public. Trahissant l’extrême jeunesse de l’interprète (il avait alors 17 ans), cette voix séraphique a mystifié plus d’un auditoire qui pensait avoir affaire à des accents féminins. Il n’a pas 22 ans lorsqu’il publie en 1976 son dernier vinyle sur Kaifa Records (KF 39LP), l’un des tout derniers publiés en Éthiopie avant que la cassette ne devienne le médium roi de la diffusion musicale – et avant que le nouveau régime révolutionnaire ne mette un terme à toute vie musicale indépendante par une innommable batterie d’interdits et autres persécutions.
Mulu qèn, littéralement Une journée [bien] remplie. Ce baptême tout maternel ne suffira pas à conjurer un funeste sort. Le décès précoce de sa mère conduira le jeune Muluken à quitter son Godjam natal, dans le Nord-Ouest éthiopien, pour vivre chez un oncle à Addis Abeba. Né Muluken Tamer, il prendra le nom de cet oncle pour patronyme – Mèllèssè.
C’est la graphie Muluken que retiendra l’état-civil. Les transcriptions de l’amharique en alphabet latin, en Ethiopie comme pour les linguistes, sont l’objet de controverses et autres chicanes jamais unanimement résolues. Le français permet de s’approcher au mieux de la prononciation originale grâce à sa batterie d’accents qui déroutent tant les anglophones.
Entre un état-civil éthiopien accommodant et les variantes parsemant les interviews de l’artiste, l’année de naissance de Muluken oscille entre 1953 et 1955…
1954 ? Ce qui est sûr, c’est que le talent de l’artiste s’est exprimé ultra précocement puisqu’il fait ses débuts en 1966-67, à 13 ou 14 ans. Les photos de l’époque attestent son extrême jeunesse. Singulière initiation pour un très jeune teenager que d’enfiévrer le quartier chaud de la noctambulie addissine d’alors, Woubé Bèrèha – le Maquis de Woubé. Et dans le club de la reine de la nuit qui plus est, la Godjamé Assègèdètch Alamrèw herself, celle-la même qu’à croquée Sebhat Guèbrè-Egziabhér dans son roman-témoignage Les Nuits d’Addis Abeba2… Une tenancière légendaire dont se souviennent encore les vieux boomers de la capitale.
Muluken tâte d’abord de la batterie avant de s’emparer du micro. Il émigrera brièvement au Zula Club, en face de la vieille Poste d’Addis, un de ces bars pionniers de l’effervescence musicale, avant de rejoindre le Second Police Band en 1968, pendant trois ans environ. Quelques mois au sein d’un éphémère Blue Nile Band monté par le saxophoniste Besrat Tammènè et, le succès grandissant, la scène musicale se dégageant lentement mais fermement des institutions, Muluken sort son premier 45 tours en février 1972 (Amha Records AE 440), repris en septembre de la même année dans deux LP compilations Ethiopian Hit Parade. En tout et pour tout, Muluken publiera huit 45 tours deux titres et autant de cassettes originales entre février 1972 et 1984, année de son départ pour un exil définitif aux USA. Converti au pentecôtisme depuis 1980, Muluken abandonne petit à petit toute activité musicale profane. En 1985, à la fin d’un concert donné à Philadelphie, il décide d’arrêter pour de bon concerts et enregistrements. Mèlakè Gèbré, le bassiste historique du Walias band qui l’accompagnait ce soir-là, se souvient que tout semblait si irrémédiablement démoniaque aux yeux de Muluken que c’en était fini désormais de sa contribution au groove éthiopien.
Fin d’une histoire, début d’une légende.
Dahlak Band, oublié de l’Histoire
Histoire personnelle et magie vocale mises à part, il faut retenir que Muluken Mèllèssè fut l’un des derniers très grands noms de l’innovation musicale produite durant la fin de l’époque impériale. Ces éthiopiques se veulent convaincantes pour ceux qui découvrent cette pépite... Quant aux Ethiopiens, ils sont toujours captivés par cette personnalité singulière et atypique du paysage pop abyssin – en dépit de son effacement public depuis quarante ans. Amateurs impénitents de poétique contournée et de sens plus ou moins caché, ils apprécient par-dessus tout le soin mis par Muluken dans le choix de ses textes et de ses paroliers, telles Feqertè Haylou, Alemtsèhay Wèdadjo, et Shèwalul Mengistu ici (1944-1977). Chansons d’amour écrites par des femmes, loin des conventionnelles niaiseries chères aux cœurs d’artichaut.
Muluken est aussi reconnu pour son perfectionnisme en matière de musique, à l’opposé d’une désinvolture trop coutumière. Il demeure le complice fidèle de musiciens issus d’une filiation qui emprunte à plusieurs Bands pionniers autant qu’inventifs (Venus, Equators, Dahlak). On retrouve parmi eux des éléments qui ont commencé leur vie musicale sous la direction de Nersès Nalbandian au Théâtre Haylè-Sellassié Ier et qui arrivent à maturité vers 1973 – au mauvais moment si l’on ose dire. Les piliers Shimèlis Bèyènè (trompette), Dawit Yifru (claviers) et Tilayé Gèbrè (sax & flûte) sont de ceux-là. Tilayé Gèbrè en particulier, certainement l’un des musiciens, compositeur et arrangeurs parmi les plus importants de sa génération et de la toute fin de l’ère impériale, puis du début du Derg.
Il faudra attendre 1981 pour que se présente une miraculeuse occasion d’échapper au paradis stalinien du dictateur Menguistou Haylè-Maryam. Une fois encore, c’est Amha Eshèté (1946-2021) qui trouve la solution. Génial et courageux producteur désormais en exil à Washington depuis 1975, il parvient, au prix d’une persévérance inimaginable, à faire venir le Walias Band aux USA. En fait, un Walias élargi à dix musiciens3 dont six choisiront de prendre la tangente après quelques concerts américains et l’enregistrement d’un LP (The Best of Walias, WRS 100). Tilayé Gèbrè sera de la partie. Il vit toujours aux USA depuis lors. Il y a rejoint une diaspora éthiopienne alors naissante, quasi autarcique et modérément conquérante du marché musical américain. Il nous paraît injuste que Tilayé Gèbrè et le Dahlak Band n’aient pu profiter plus tôt de la reconnaissance publique qui leur revient.
Pareille hémorragie de talents de premier ordre conduira à la refonte des groupes majeurs du “Derg Time”. Les éléments restants vont se répartir entre Ibex Band (renommé Roha Band), Ethio Star Band et un Walias Band remanié. Fin annoncée du Dahlak Band.
Avec ce disque, produit par l’essential Ali Abdella Kaifa dit Ali Tango, on mesure tout ce que le Derg a non seulement détruit, mais aussi empêché de s’épanouir. Ce joyau d’afrobeat à l’éthiopienne est paru en 1976 (entre parenthèses : avant le FESTAC 1977 de Lagos où se rendra une imposante délégation de musiciens éthiopiens — mais Fela était déjà personna non grata dans son pays). Malgré tout ce qui peut le différencier de Fela – aucune revanche coloniale à prendre, pas question d’affrontement politique avec le pouvoir, aucune revendication de négritude ou d’africanité pour les musiciens éthiopiens, et moindre extraversion ! –, ce LP s’inscrit en beauté dans la saga de la soul intense et électrisée du nouveau groove “africain” que Fela et Manu Dibango symbolisent si bien désormais.
En resituant ce disque dans l’épopée de l’afrobeat, on se rend compte que la chronologie rend au moins leurs lettres de noblesse et leur historique primeur à des œuvres sans impact international au moment de leur parution.
Attention ! chef-d’œuvre !
NooPop Records proudly presents 'Naissoo Freeform Quintet,' led by keyboard maestro Tõnu Naissoo.
Recorded in Tallinn during two electrifying, improvisational sessions in July 2024, this LP captures the infectious energy of funk, the adventurous spirit of free jazz, and infused with a nostalgic nod to the psychedelic era.
This album is a celebration of dynamic percussive rhythms and exploratory sound of Bass Clarinet, Rhodes, Moog Source and ARP Odyssey, offering a unique blend of past and future musical influences.
Whether you're a jazz aficionado, a groove enthusiast, or simply a lover of innovative music, "Naissoo Freeform Quintet" is an essential addition to your collection. Join us on this cosmic expedition and discover the infinite possibilities of sound that await in the astral realms of plate reverb and tape delay.
"Naissoo Freeform Quintet" is a rare gem for collectors and music lovers alike. Grab yours before it’s gone and embark on this stellar journey!
Veego Records re-issues the cult 1984 french electronic LP from Loukas Thanos.
"Veego Records proudly presents the first-ever vinyl reissue of Jazzburger by Lucas Thanos. The title track “Jazzburger,” rediscovered through Dekmantel’s Profondo Nero compilation, blends cold minimal synths, slow-motion disco, and eerie cinematic tension, featuring the ghostly vocals of Idyli Tsaliki.
Includes 2 previously unreleased tracks, an early demo version of Jazzburger as well as a demo of Μόνο ένα Λεπτό. The reissue also includes “Break,” probably the first rap song ever recorded in Greece, echoing the electro-funk style of Egyptian Lover, and “Set on Fire,” a pure slice of French disco elegance.
A rare collection that bridges Italo Disco, New Wave, minimal wave, and early European electronic experimentation, Jazzburger is a long-lost time capsule brought back to life for a new generation of listeners."
Japanese vibraphonist and marimba player Masayoshi Fujita returns with Migratory, his masterful new solo album, where his sonic explorations into the unknown continue.
In 2020, after 13 years of living in Berlin, Fujita returned to his native Japan with his wife and their three children, fulfilling his life-long dream of living and composing music in the midst of nature. The family found their new home in the mountain hills along the coast of Kami-cho, Hyōgo, three hours west of Kyoto.
Once settled in, Fujita spent his time turning an old kindergarten into his own music studio, Kebi Bird Studio, which became the birthplace of Migratory. On his new album, the composer and producer masterfully reimagines and mesmerises with his trademark sounds of vibraphone, and resumes his experimentation with the marimba and synthesisers that he first incorporated on his 2021 album, Bird Ambience, which followed the release of his acclaimed vibraphone triptych: Stories (2012), Apologues (2015) and Book of Life (2018).
On Fujita’s ever-evolving list of collaborators, Migratory introduces vocals from Moor Mother on ‘Our Mother’s Lights’ and Hatis Noit on ‘Higurashi’, as well as shō and saxophone to its soundscapes.
Whilst at a music residency in Stockholm in 2021, Fujita met Swedish shō player Mattias Hållsten. Although it was a brief encounter, the two musicians stayed in touch. During a visit to Japan, Hållsten stopped by the studio and played on three of the tracks, including the alluring album closer ‘Yodaka’, exceeding Fujita’s own expectations.
Another collaborator, American poet Moor Mother asked Fujita to contribute vibraphone to her upcoming album, and in return lent her powerful voice to the Migratory’s centrepiece, Our Mother’s Lights — “it carries a kind of African and Asian vibe, a perfect match for the energy of the piece,” he adds.
As with Bird Ambience, Fujita continues to be inspired by our feathered friends. The album’s title, Migratory, originates from an image that came to him of migratory birds, travelling somewhere between Africa, Southeast Asia and Japan, imagining them hearing the music from the land underneath, and how their point of view of the world from above blurs the boundaries of music and land.
Expanding on this, Fujita says: “these ideas and images were inspired by my experiences of living abroad and returning to my homeland, as well as by the artists featured on this album who also somehow travelled or lived in other countries across the boundaries, and being influenced by the music of other lands but at the same time somehow led to their roots."
Masayoshi’s parents too made a life abroad in Thailand for over 15 years. After returning to Japan, Fujita’s mother passed away in the beginning of 2023. So he invited his father to come for a visit, to spend time with him and his grandchildren. A lifelong musician in his own right, the two of them soon found themselves holed up in Kebi Bird Studio. Fujita senior had brought his saxophone, which he played on top of the then unfinished recordings, resulting in three breathtaking pieces. The slow jazz-tinged ‘Blue Rock Thrush’ stands out, with the saxophone and marimba blending harmoniously reaching new artistic heights.
Nature has always been a source of inspiration for Fujita, and on Migratory it takes centre stage. You can hear it on the album’s peaceful and considered field recordings, but most importantly, Masayoshi highlights – “nature is there as the image to be evoked by the listener from the music.” On the record’s sleeve notes, written by renowned novelist and travel writer Pico Iyer, we learn about the Japan that he hears as he sits down and listens to the music. It educates and encapsulates us, in the same way Fujita’s imaginary birds vividly depict the essence of musical migration.
Masami Akita’s work as Merzbow looms over all avant-garde, noise and heavy music like a dark cloud. Since 1979, the Tokyo-based sound artist’s fusion of industrial fervor and playfully Dadaist chaos across hundreds of releases has done more than pioneer harsh noise music — it has made him nearly synonymous with the genre. However, that famous reputation never quite conveys the actual thrill of sinking into a Merzbow album and absorbing its extreme contours, spiking peaks and layered valleys. It’s a feeling familiar to any fan, in a discography so deep and varied that no one ever explores it the same way. Merzbow’s new album Sedonis is an airy, ominous highlight and an essential release for both longtime listeners and those taking their tentative first steps into Akita’s boiling ocean of sound.
Sedonis caps one of the most exciting recent periods in Merzbow’s career, growing from the same set-up of computer, modular electronics and homemade instruments that produced the startlingly atmospheric Nine Studies of Ephemeral Resonance album series. It sparks to life on “Sedonis A” with propulsive drum machines and Akita’s prickling homemade guitar-string koto, played with a violin bow. The Penderecki-like strings melt into a nearly Hendrix haze at the start of “Sedonis B” building a crushing bridge to the centerpiece “Sedonis C.” The searing track brings to mind releases such as Dust of Dreams’ hazy percussion loops or the pulsing, jazz-influenced Door Open At 8AM, before igniting in a finale that achieves the same rippling funhouse terror as Aaron Dilloway’s Modern Jester. The three-part piece is paired with the 16-minute closer “Monolith 4”, which forms a spacious, burned expanse in contrast.
Akita explains that the title “Sedonis” didn’t have a particular meaning, but the word came to him in the aftermath of recording the album. “In terms of imagery, I was thinking of something similar to Barunga, the balloon monster from Ultra Q,” he explains, describing the classic ‘60s Ultraman kaiju. “A cloud-like form floating in the sky or outer space, with tendrils or tentacles — that kind of presence.” The music impressionistically conveys its inspiration at a kaiju-sized scale, while bringing to mind a modern day contemporary of Barunga— Jordan Peele’s terrifying, yet eerily beautiful creature from Nope. Similarly, Sedonis never stops unfolding into hypnotic new forms, while achieving a spectral, sinister atmosphere that feels utterly unique to Merzbow in 2025.
