MUSIC

As one of the very few true 'Godfathers' of Ambient Music, Laraaji has forged a unique path forward (always, always forward) since his groundbreaking 1980 LP for Eno's Ambient label, "DAY OF RADIANCE'. It remains one of the eternal pillars of the genre. His extraordinary contributions to modern music over the course of four decades highlight his lifelong dedication to the belief that Peace can be achieved through audio serenity. Kramer's work in Ambient Music is less universally known, but no less pioneering. His most recent Shimmy-Disc LP, 'Music For Films Edited by Moths', suggests that his immersion in the genre is now complete. Cerebral yet simple, intoxicating yet tranquil, Kramer's newest and more elusive body of work gently heralds what lies ahead. His commitment to quiet music is complete. LARAAJI & KRAMER - "AMBIENT SYMPHONY #1" is the first window into their collective muse - a collaborative LP of shimmering clarity and vision, defying all expectations for the fans of each of these two diversely pioneering artists. Containing three 'Movements' (along with an additional 4th Movement on the digital release), this first Ambient Symphony is a beatific exercise in the sublime, unfolding dreams to waking life. Quiet music has never been so colorfully detailed, or so nakedly honest. Ambient Music has a new beginning.

Half asleep you hear a guitar echo through the early morning haze, you're so zonked you cant tell if its a dream or if the droney reverb is coming from real life, you sit up, now starting to understand what is afoot. Thats right, its the errant kings of slowcore Duster returning with yet another surprise release - In Dreams. Disintegrated, half remembered melodies permeate this record like a slow tide of static soaking into a discarded slice of sponge cake, proving somehow inventive and nostalgic at the same time, in other words Duster on top form.

Kutmah pays dues to departed astro-dub and beats pioneer Ras G in a mazy album primed for playing and smoking loud.

Lest we forget, Ras G (1979-2019) was like the cosmic offspring of Sun Ra x Madlib x King Tubby, and his run of works as Ras G & the Afrikan Space Program for the likes of Brainfeeder and others between the ‘00s and up till his passing were massive touchstones for the whole West Coast US beats scene and far beyond.

Kutmah tends to his departed peer’s legacy on ‘Sacred Conversations’ in a transdimensional dialogue across 26 tracks that ape G’s style and sense of moon boot gravity, replete with heavy use of the recognisable “oh Ras!” ident and samples of the artist in convo with DJ Sacred. In beat tape style they’re all rugged morsels that add up to an undulating session of squashed offbeats rendered with haziest, psychoactive dubbing and astro-soulful vibes to the rafters.

LIMITED JAPAN EXCLUSIVE "Asagao" EDITION. Flora is an album that is listened to perpetually,
Passed on from one listener to another,
And the charm of the sound- and music-loving figure 
known as Hiroshi Yoshimura,
Just might come drifting through.
Like the scent of a small flower.
—Junichi Konuma

Announcing the worldwide reissue of Flora, Hiroshi Yoshimura’s underrated work originally recorded and completed in 1987 and first released on CD in 2006, three years after his passing in 2003.

Flora is chronologically and stylistically a follow-up to Hiroshi Yoshimura’s acclaimed 1986 works Green and Surround, wherein Yoshimura continues to play with the ambience of sound and the sound of ambience, underscoring his mastery in the field of environmental music. Listening to Flora is like taking a stroll in a park, absorbing the colors and textures of the natural environment—flowers, insects, the swaying of the leaves—as Yoshimura often did at his beloved Edo-era park near his home in Tokyo. As Junichi Konuma describes in his liner notes, Yoshimura’s music “only begins to emerge as it exists at the intersection of passive and active.” Yoshimura's approach to sound and melody invites the listener to hear the intricacies of the music with intent, while simultaneously allowing the aural textures to exist as part of the background of our everyday life.

This reissue marks the first time the album will be available on vinyl (2LP, 45 rpm) and cassette, and includes liner notes written by music scholar Junichi Konuma and remastered audio by Grammy-nominated engineer John Baldwin. Reissue design and layout was handled by Tiffanie Tran. 

On Wednesday June 21, 2023 LA-via-Rio composer Fabiano do Nascimento had organized - with Leaving Records and an ensemble of contemporaries in the local scene - a one-night-only seated concert at a historic venue in Northeast Los Angeles. Do Nascimento and his band set out to perform a curated selection of original music and other favorites from cherished composers.

Behold Solstice Concert - the raw recording of what went down that evening - straight from the board, solstice vibes glistening, full band synchronized, audience stoked. Although unintended to be a full-length album release subsequent to the performance, the tape was indeed rolling however unknown to the band on stage and those in attendance.

Don't miss it! Known for his collaborations with big names such as Ry Cooder, Vampire Weekend and Moses Sumney, and as the leader of the jazz trio Inga, he has been active in a variety of fields, from psychedelic to outsider to meditative. This is a follow up to his last album, which was self-pressed in 2018 and has been reprinted many times since then and is a huge best seller in our store. The collaboration with Sam Wilkes is now available on cassette from Leaving Records, and is a continuation of the previous album recorded between 2017 and 2018. The album is a confident work that combines a sophisticated jazz mind with a unique, experimental sound that is full of the free spirit of the West Coast, and sublimates it into a unique, even meditative, sound. The muffled sound image with a perfect balance makes the listener feel even better. Limited edition of 350 pieces. Whether you were baptized by the previous album, missed it, or haven't experienced it yet, this is a must-have album for this year.

Welsh musician Aisha Vaughan presents The Gate. It is upon us to renew the deep-cut, heavy-weighted melancholy of Celtic New Age for 2024. New Age music from the Celtic/British Isles crossed over into the mainstream in the late 80s - notably with Enya (and her band Clannad), the perhaps now lesser-known instrumental Celtic harp music of Patrick Ball, and the slew of now mostly forgotten various artist compilations that saturated the New Age CD and cassette music market in the early 90s.

The Gate earnestly gives reverence to the landscape that she calls home (as cinematically portrayed consistently in Vaughan’s self-shot videos via her social media). Now living in converted barn in mid-Wales, Vaughan writes and records her music to red kites and eagles hunting in the mountains outside her windows. The notably welcomed layers of ASMR sound design and computer music production supplement the main instrument here - her voice - woven within campfire crackle, wind chime, cricket, bird, harp, flute, synthesizer pad & sfx, and new moon wolf howl to channel celestial guides conjured from her remote homeland.

Using composition as catharsis stemming from a traumatic upbringing where music was banned in her childhood household, and the inherent occult history that surrounds the art form, Vaughan does not shy away from precisely stewarding this particular - often still-overlooked - musical tradition through her generation’s ambient lens.
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Gendel on C-Melody Saxofone and Wilkes on Fender P-Bass arrangements of selected material and original compositions a document of specific variations in instrumentation, sound, and repertoire, with a focus on melody, execution of arrangement, and total freedom The Doober follows the release of Music for Saxofone & Bass Guitar (2018) and Music for Saxofone & Bass Guitar More Songs (2021).

Bon Iver’s three-song collection SABLE, was an act of vulnerability and unburdening. Written and recorded at a breaking point, they were songs of reflection, fear, depression, solitude, and atonement. The word “sable” implies darkness, and in that triptych, Justin Vernon sought to unpack some long-compounded pain. Then, at the tail end of its final track “AWARDS SEASON,” there’s the barest thread of a lighter melody—a drone, a glimmer, an ember, hope for something more. SABLE, was the prologue, a controlled burn clearing the way for new possibilities. fABLE is the book. Stories of introduction and celebration. The fresh growth that blankets the charred ground. Where SABLE, was a work of solitude, fABLE is an outstretched hand.

Compared to the sparse minimalism of its three-song table setter, fABLE is all lush vibrance. Radiant, ornate pop music gleams around Vernon’s voice as he focuses on a new and beautiful era. On every song, his eyes are locked with one specific person. It’s love, which means there’s an intense clarity, focus, and honesty within fABLE. It’s a portrait of a man flooded and overwhelmed by that first meeting (“Everything Is Peaceful Love”). There’s a tableau defined by sex and irrepressible desire (“Walk Home”). This is someone filled with light and purpose seeing an entire future right in front of him: a partner, new memories, maybe a family.

While not as minimal as its companion EP, fABLE’s sound appears to walk back the dense layers of sound Vernon hid behind on records like i,i and 22, a million. There’s nothing evasive or boundary-busting about this music. It’s a canvas for truth laid bare. Much of the album was recorded at Vernon’s April Base in Wisconsin after years of the studio laying dormant during a renovation. The album’s conceptual genesis happened on 2.22.22 when Jim-E Stack, Vernon’s close collaborator and guide throughout the creative process, arrived at the base with Danielle Haim. Snowed in for multiple days, their voices intertwined for the ballad “If Only I Could Wait.” Suddenly, Haim gave voice to this crucial perspective—the one Vernon seems to hold in sacred regard across fABLE. Accompanied by Rob Moose’s strings, it’s a track about weariness—about not having the strength to be the best version of yourself outside the glow of new love.

There’s something undeniably healing about infatuation. Cleaving to someone else can feel like light pouring in from a door that’s suddenly swung wide. But there’s a reason SABLE, is of a piece with fABLE; even after you put in the work, the shadow still rears its head from time to time. On “There’s A Rhythmn,” Vernon finds himself back in an old feeling, this time seeking an alternative instead of erasure: “Can I feel another way?” There’s an understanding that even when you’ve reached a new chapter, you’ll always find yourself back in your own foundational muck. A fable isn’t a fairy tale. Yes, there’s the good shit: unbridled joy, trips to Spain, the color salmon as far as the eye can see. But fables aren’t interested in happy endings or even endings at all; they’re here to instill a lesson.

As the album winds to a close, he acknowledges the need for patience and a commitment to put in the work. There’s a selfless rhythm required when you’re enmeshing yourself with another person. The song—and by extension the entire album—is a pledge. He’s ready to find that pace. 

Underground rock festered and splintered as it spread through the U.S. in the mid-’90s, the alternative boom giving rise to microcosmic regional scenes singularly focused on feral powerviolence or screamo songs about breakfast. Boston’s Karate emerged as a force that could grip a national youth movement whose disparate tastes still commingled in the inky pages of fanzines overflowing with florid prose and on concert calendars for volunteer-run DIY spaces, community centers, and bowling alleys. In this world, Karate’s music was an enigma, one equally inviting to sneering punks and highfalutin indie-rock aficionados. Their 1996 self-titled debut, issued on Southern Records, set the standard. Lasooing together white-knuckle posthardcore tension, sharply focused slowcore serenity, and resplendent jazz complexity, Karate eschewed settling in any one definiable style. But they certainly used the language of punk to get their point across; occasionally, guitarist Geoff Farina abandons his warm, hushed cadences for a hoarse shout that made him sound ragged, intensifying an aggression that burst out with every snaggletoothed guitar riff or drum snap that went off like canonfire. Few followed their path—but who could keep up? Karate could make pensive moods blossom into feverish rollicking (“What Is Sleep?”), gracefully tip-toe around aggressive punk explosions without getting bent out of shape (“Bodies”), and stretch out slowcore’s quietest reveries till their reflective notes sound ripped from an improvisational jazz session (“Caffeine or Me?”). Karate formally introduced the trio as a vital part of an independent U.S. punk scene stubbornly flowering in the face of the major labels’ ’90s harvest.

New age for the suburban city, spun from a poor planting in the suburbs or from an apartment room along the national highway. "Suiyu" is the first album by Hajime Orikawa, a musician living in Chiba.

From side A, which is composed of home recordings and environmental sounds in a room at home, and contains a lo-fi yet theological resonance, to the title track "Suiyu" which exceeds 15 minutes and where various instruments such as autoharp, electronic piano, Moog synthesizer, organ, and tenor saxophone beautifully blend with a free-spirited singing voice like a wild rabbit running through the fields, the melancholy of the suburban city floats gently.

The cassette version includes a DL code for “Ikkojiteki,” a collection of outtracks, along with a DL code for "Suiyu". 

Driving is Sam Wilkes’ Indie Rock record. Out October 6th, 2023, it is the first release on Wilkes Records, an imprint borne of the artist’s emergent need to self-release. The songs presented here exist comfortably within the ever-expanding Wilkesian cosmos, characterized as they are by virtuosity, torqued experimentalism, and collaboration with a range of talented musicians. But Driving’s influences, its sincerity, and its allegiance to a certain pop sensibility reflects a departure for an artist who has primarily staked his claim within the experimental jazz idiom. Take the first track, “Folk Home,” which inaugurates the album’s fecundity—a bright, green, humid, summer feel. A swirling, freakout coda of reversed vocals gives way, in no short order, to a caterwaul of flute work that conjures Van Morrison’s (in)famous Astral Weeks sessions. Standing beside Morrison, the usual suspects are all present, if somewhat abstractedly. Dylan, The Dead, Joni, the Fab Four. Wilkes has developed a reputation as an experimental jazz luminary, but his deep affinity for the pop/rock/folk idiom of the latter twentieth century rings clear throughout Driving. More so than any Wilkes release to date, Driving is a collection guided by and dedicated to the man’s attention to songcraft. Written and recorded during a period of rain-damage induced renter’s itinerance (and the attendant desire to produce a kind of therapeutic, self-soothing, home-feeling music), Driving loosely charts the trajectory/experience of “a protagonist,” both Wilkes and not, “who has figured out how to live an enlightened and fulfilled life, but is unable to do so because he thinks about it too much.” This friction is surely relatable — a symptom of our compulsively self-aware present. But Wilkes avoids the obvious pitfalls of public hand-wringing. Rather, Driving’s nine tracks evince a genuine, and mature searching-ness, both sonically and lyrically. The ending refrain of “Own” serves like something close to a thesis— “Letting go // isn’t a concept // it’s an action.” In an attempt to beat back ego, hyper-cogitation, language itself, Wilkes arrives at an axiom that feels so true and familiar, you’d swear you’d heard it one hundred times before. Driving’s final third is, fittingly, its most emotive and cathartic. Tracks seven and eight, “Again, Again” and “And Again,” form a diptych, joined most obviously by the jangling, recursive grooves of guitarist Daryl Johns. Wilkes is said to have encouraged Johns to go “full Lindsey [Buckingham]” (clearly a welcome and resonant prompt), but one also catches stray Knopfler vibes, some intermittent Fripp, and (perhaps more-so in tone than technique) the spirit of DIY prophet and jangling man himself, Martin Newell (the Cleaners from Venus). Wilkes has stated that he finds joy in creating musical environments suitable to the contribution and flourishing of his favorite musicians. Throughout Driving, and in these two tracks especially, he has more than succeeded. The record closes with the titular track: a story-song that, according to Wilkes, poured out of him (melody, composition, and lyrics) in a single sitting. The tale is told plainly, bravely, starkly; a mistake was made, regrets have been had, and all is wrapped up in the recollection of a deeply felt adolescent heartsickness—a time when the narrator was first afire with music and automotive freedom. The song captures the moment when meaning inexplicably falls into place, when a long-nagging memory suddenly assumes narrative form, and the subsequent sense of lightness and unburdening. It is fitting that Driving, a record conceived as a form of self-therapy, should culminate with a sense of humble revelation. That Wilkes is plainly eager to share the vulnerable fruits of this labor constitutes Driving’s joyful offering.

When Festival de Frue’s organizers asked Sam Wilkes to put together an ensemble for their 2022 festival, they initially asked for the band he created for his 2021 album “One Theme & Subsequent Improvisation.” With keyboardist Chris Fishman (Pat Metheny, Louis Cole) the only member of that group who was available, Wilkes asked that the organizers select one of two groups as an alternative: a Trio featuring drummer Craig Weinrib (Henry Threadgill, Amen Dunes) and guitarist Dylan Day (Jenny Lewis, Jackson Browne)—with whom Wilkes recently released a trio album—or a Quartet featuring Weinrib, Fishman, and keyboardist and guitarist Thom Gill (KNOWER, Joseph Shabason). “I couldn’t make the decision on which band I should bring, I felt very confused about it,” he says. Through a strange series of miscommunications—or simply a bit of serendipity—both Wilkes and the Frue organizers thought the other had suggested combining the ensembles into a Quintet including members of both groups. An idea that neither side voiced somehow became the obvious choice. The combined Quintet represents what Wilkes calls “two disparate worlds in my community,” that of the “virtuosic, fast-paced grid” of music played with Fishman and Gill, “and this other thing with Dylan that’s coming from different elements of traditional American music.” Luckily, Weinrib fits seamlessly into both worlds. While all members of the group played on Wilkes’ 2023 album Driving, they’d never all played together. They had one five-hour rehearsal in Tokyo, but, Wilkes says, “It was impossible for me to predict how this music was going to sound.” His strategy, after showing them the arrangements of several of his own compositions and a few covers, was to “allow everyone to blossom fully” with the hope that “what I’ll get is everyone’s personality being expressed unfettered.” iiyo iiyo iiyo is Sam Wilkes’ fifth album as bandleader and arranger, and the atmosphere is so rich it spills out of the speakers. The album, a document of the Quintet’s meeting, was recorded live at Festival de Frue in Kakegawa and at WWWX in Tokyo, where they played headlining sets for hundreds of people. Not that you’d know it from the intimate interplay between the players or the small-room feel of the recording. In opener “Descending,” which made its debut on Wilkes’ 2018 self-titled album, the mood is so cozy you’d swear the sound of kids at play in the back of the hall had been sampled in—another perfect bit of serendipity. For Wilkes, setting the right tone for a performance or a recording is paramount, and it’s inseparable from how he understands his role as a bassist. “My entryway into understanding my thing, what I care about the most in music, was through accompaniment; focusing on time, feel, tone, form, and most importantly, listening.” he says. “There are things that are ineffable about that, which is the energy. But there are also conscious and subconscious decisions, where I’m arranging and orchestrating to create the ultimate environment for, say, Dylan to play his melody over, or Thom to play his. Those are choices as much as reactions, combining in equal parts in-depth preparation and total improvisation” The title iiyo iiyo iiyo is a Japanese expression used in response to an outpouring of gratitude, a cheeky way of brushing the accolades off of oneself. Accordingly, the record is full of charming, homespun personality. In a gorgeous version of the standard “I Wanna Be Loved,” Day plays the melody in a way that moves between washed-out ambient gauze and a traditionally beautiful run of lines that echoes the Dinah Washington original. While the band circulates the mantric melody in “Descending,” Fishman dots around it on his Moog One, opening a new seam in a song that’s quickly become a Wilkes standard. Weinrib’s patient, impressionistic brush strokes seem to swirl beneath the melody, while Gill fogs the room with thick, reverb-heavy accompaniment from his keys. And where is Wilkes in all this? He’s guiding his friends, helping them decorate a room that he himself built, drawing them deeper into the song’s wistful, hopeful, grounded atmosphere. His polyphonic voicings—a signature of his playing—sets out the song’s boundaries and acts as both its musical and emotional anchor. It’s the approach Wilkes takes across the album, using his phrasing as both the music’s gravitational center and its heart, and he does it to perfection in the opening minute or so of “Girl.” The song originally appeared on Sam Wilkes “Sings” (2014–2016)” in what he calls a “psychotically different arrangement.” On stage in Kakegawa, he slows the song to a crawl and isolates its central chords. He plays them gently, patiently; he voices the chords with the clarity of a person who’s just cried out all of their confusion. As Wilkes says, his role as a bassist means that he’s the foundation of these songs, and foundations by their very nature tend to be obscured. Here, for one lovely moment, he strips everything back to the studs, revealing the lush architecture that holds this miraculous music together.

 

"When it travels, the voice is a double agent, a trickster, or a dubious guru, but when it pauses for a recording, it's historical, capturing a mood or an emotion for all time. I didn't expect that I would hardly recognize the people who made Salt — myself and Hessel Veldman — a year and a half after recording it, but this is where I find myself now, so I'll say a few words about this temporary prosopagnosia.

Twelve years ago, when I moved to the Netherlands from Japan, I made a piece called How to Lose Your Voice. It was a YouTube hit because people wanted to learn how to actually lose their voices, though I doubt they found what they were looking for in the video. But I mention it because it's like a diary for me: my voice simply isn't the same now as it was then.

I wonder where my voice has gone.

I just listened to a radio interview with a woman who had her larynx removed.

About fifteen minutes after listening to her new voice, altered by the use of a voice prosthesis to make her audible, the interviewer played a recording of her pre-surgery voice. Of course, I was curious to hear it, and although it was immediately obvious that the gentle ease of her first voice was gone, this new voice, with its raw, gravelly sound, was even more intriguing because of its determined power to express that which needed to be expressed.

When Hessel and I first listened to the Salt in its entirety, I said in astonishment, "who wrote this?"
Marianna Maruyama, sure, but this artist goes by more than one name. Many voices spoke through me in this album. You might even recognize one of them as yours."  

Rare Pleasure is Mndsgn's third album to be released on Stones Throw Records. Following 2016's Body Wash, this album truly shows the artist's evolution from his roots as a heralded beatmaker to vocalist, songwriter and arranger. Though he began writing for the album in 2018, the final recordings took just a week in studio with the help of trusted collaborators: Swarvy on bass, guitar and as Musical Director for the sessions, Stones Throw label mate Kiefer Shackelford on keys, drum work by Will Logan, the blessed percussion of Carlos Niño, Miguel Atwood-Ferguson on strings, and accompanying vocals from Fousheé and Anna Wise.

No shortage of colorful characters emerged from Cameroon's bikutsi scene in the 1980's and early 90's. Gibraltar Drakus is one of the most enduring and enigmatic of the artists who helped transform bikutsi into a beautifully endless fabric of triplet rhythms that eventually reached ears around the world. Following the advent of Cameroon Radio Television in 1987, bikutsi began to supplant makossa and soukous for domination of the local airwaves and the attention of cosmopolitan, thrill-seeking residents of Cameroon's capital Yaoundé and beyond. Biktusi perfectly fused Beti traditional music and increasingly electronic, highly rhythmic guitar-based bikutsi. Mimicking the sound of village-based xylophone music by rigging a mute to electric guitar strings, bikutsi artists provided a relentlessly energetic dance format for those with a taste for music steeped in their hometown sensibility (countering the popular makossa that many felt sounded less indigenous).By the early 1990's, Les Tetes Brûlées were indisputably the most famous and influential artists in bikutsi, due in part to the innovations of their incendiary guitarist Théodore Zanzibar Epeme. Following their first European tour in 1987, the band blew up internationally but Zanzibar tragically, and mysteriously, passed away, which nearly brought an end to the band completely. In hindsight, the consensus among most Cameroonians is Zanzibar's contributions to biktusi were transformational and immeasurable. Swept up in all this was Gibraltar Drakus, who was the youngest member of Les Têtes Brûlées and was also the protégé of his biggest supporter, Zanzibar. So it was fitting that he dedicate his 1989 debut to their groundbreaking late guitarist who had meant so much to him. Drakus literally exploded from his first album Hommage A Zanzibar (1989), which sold over 100,000 copies despite rampant piracy. For the recording, Drakus made sure he engaged prolific producer Mystic Jim to record and mix the album. The innovation musically rests both within the guitar interplay and the discipline in the orchestration, which result in a mind-bending clockwork of cross-rhythmic harmony. He aimed for the sound to exist somewhere between the sensibilities of the famous Les Veterans, Zanzibar and Messi Martin. He had worked a lot of Zanzibar and Messi Martin, both of whom allowed him to fully immerse himself in bikutsi and Beti music. "Zanzibar is the one who taught me how to compose a song, and I learned a lot from Zanzibar musically. We spent whole nights working on methods and other approaches to compose beautiful songs. I owe half of everything I have today to Zanzibar!"

Cameroonian artist, musician, author, composer, performer and guitarist Roger Bekono made a deep mark in the contemporary history of Cameroonian music through the four-on-the-floor, ribald intensity of bikutsi. The Ewondo-language dance-pop style that forms an undulating tapestry of interlocking triplet rhythmic interplay came to international prominence in the European “world music” scene as the 90s began. But the relentless sound of bikutsi developed in Yaoundé at the hands of Bekono and many others, as it developed from a village-based singing style performed mostly by women into a cosmopolitan music force that rivaled the popularity of established musics like Congolese rhumba, merengue and makossa. With his unique—some say suave—voice, Bekono contributed much over a period of more than 10 years as part of the evolution of this traditional rhythm-turned-urban dance movement. Roger Essama Bekono was born June 15, 1954 in Atéga, Central region. His mother Scolastique Essama nicknamed him Beko-bâ-Andela, in homage to his great-grandfather who died a few years before his birth. From an early age, he was soon confronted with the harshness of daily life in the village. Young Bekono walked four kilometers to school from the family home each day followed by extensive domestic chores. So he had little time to devote to football and other types of children's games. Instead, he spent his time singing while working, developing his distinctive vocal timbre and from the age of 7, he joined the choir of the Catholic Church of Atéga where he sang for several years every Sunday. His mother worked hard to put him through school and eventually get him to the city for further education. In 1968, Bekono left his native village to settle in Yaoundé, the capital city, with the ultimate goal of completing his secondary studies. 14 years old and living with his uncle, he went to high school and met some young people who shared the same passion as him, music. After class, they would go in groups near discotheques to listen to the music of their favorite artists of the time. They also discovered the events of the "Youth Mornings" organized at the Mefou cinema in Mvog-Mbi. During these events, the young Roger lets his talent speak through the popular songs of his idol who was none other than Mariam Makeba. She was an undeniable star throughout Africa. He was so into her his first nickname in music was simply “Mariam Makeba,” because of his ease in interpreting her popular songs, and because of her timeless, suave vocal timbre. At the time he was also a fan of Michael Jackson, Edith Piaf, Michel Sardou and Elvis Presley. Sometime in the mid-1970s Bekono made an abrupt stop to his studies. His mother and his adoptive father were angry and demanded answers. He dreamed of going into music full time. However, being a musician at that time in Cameroon was not yet perceived as a worthy profession. Cameroonian musicians did not have a secure income despite their renown, and no copyright society had been set up yet. They had for the most part a bad boy image, thought of as people without a future. Therefore, it was difficult for his parents to accept. His mother was certainly disappointed by the sudden decision but she has always believed in him. So his step-father gave him a classical guitar and a tape recorder so that he could work independently on music full time. Bekono knew you have to think about composing original music and lyrics instead of covering classics like those of Mariam Makeba. your own words and the music of your songs, the field of reflection is vast between your own experience and the evils that undermine society. However, he hadn’t yet settled on a musical style, so he initially composed songs with foreign colors like his song "Bòngo Ya Cameron,” which has a French flavor and of Rumba but sung in his own Ewondo language. His music is appreciated by those close to him and in the cabarets of Mvog Ada where he performs on certain weekends, he learned to play the guitar and perfectly masters the art of singing. At each of his live performances, he makes a good impression in front of a crowd amazed by his talent, and in front of certain actors and pioneers of a rhythm that is gaining ground in Cameroonian music known as bikutsi. Note here that the bikutsi is basically sung in the Beti language and can be defined as a music and a traditional dance from Cameroon, specifically an urbanize form of pop music based on Beti musical forms, originating in the Cental and South provinces where the Beti ethnic group resides. Bekono falls in with some of the main characters in the bikutsi scene and little by little he learns the basics, adapts and a few years later decides to release his very first project. It was in the 1980s that the big names in bikutsi emerged. The style began to have international visibility. A multitude of vibrant, young talent appeared on the Cameroonian music scene. There had already been the crucial groundwork laid by the father of modern bikutsi Messi Martin who discovered how to transpose the sound of the traditional balafon (xylophone) to an electric guitar. Bekono sensed that bikutsi was in its golden age amid fierce competition he took his time to prepare his first solo album by working with the big names of the time, from both the old and new generations. At the end of 1984, Bekono released his first project Oget Mongi on LP and as soon as it was released, the lead single "Ngon Nnam" hit the capital's radio stations. The end of the year in Cameroon is always marked by happy events like weddings, communions, baptisms, etc. and this song was heavily played at these types of events following the album’s release. He quickly became one of the rising stars of bikutsi and was invited to radio shows all over Cameroon and perform in the popular clubs and cabarets around Yaoundé. Oget Mongi was produced by Bekono himself under his Label Beko Production with the unconditional support of his parents (his step-father funded the project). Television arrived in Cameroon in 1985, the year following his debut album, so there is no video clip of any of the songs from Bekono’s Oget Mongi. Indeed, Pope John Paul II’s first visit to Cameroon (over 1/3 of the population is Catholic) is one of the various elements that accelerated the process of the start of television in Cameroon. This papal visit is inextricably linked to Bekono’s story: Bekono was enlisted to write and compose the official welcoming song for His Holiness’s arrival. The song appeared just as attention for his debut album was in full swing. It became like a hymn during the Pope's stay in Cameroon, on television and on the radio, in Christian localities. Even after the Pope's visit, the song could be heard at various events. Things continued to progress for the young artist, as his career climbed his home life developed. His daughter Ebah Marie Christine had been born a few weeks after Oget Mongi was released. His eventual wife Madeleine Bikié and he were so secure and happy that they had the capacity to help his younger cousins from the village who were then able to continue their secondary studies in Yaoundé. In 1987, Bekono released Assiko 100,000 Watts on LP and cassette. Very quickly the album became a hit with "Biza" and "Assiko 100,000 Watts" receiving radio play. He sold plenty of records and cassettes and toured the nation. This album brought him to northern Cameroon, where met Ali Baba (the father of Soul Gandja, a style of his own design), a rising star of modern music in the region. They became close friends during that period. The album title refers to yet another style of dance and music, assiko, It is important to note the assiko is not a traditional Bassa dance, but rather a dance adopted by Bassa-speaking folks. It is a traditional Cameroonian healing dance transformed into a party dance, especially found among the Bassa and the Beti. It is therefore thanks to this song that Bekono gets invited to perform in this coastal part of Cameroon, Bassa country, where he meets assiko legends Jean Bikoko and Samson Chaud Gar. The song “Biza" also made a lot of noise outside the capital, and even in the Beti villages during celebratory events. Bekono set his sights on international superstardom though. So he began work on his third album, to be released at the end of 1989. Let’s rewind a little bit first—the bikutsi rhythm was originally played by a balafon orchestra known as a mendzang (see mvett). Based on a cadence and stomping rhythm, it is also marked by a strong presence of percussion. In the 1970s, bikutsi was modernized with the introduction of electric guitar and bass, keyboards, horns and drum kit. The legitimate originators are Anne-Marie Nzie, Messi Martin and Ange Ebogo, but it was with the emergence of Les Têtes Brûlées that bikutsi will experience a earth shaking revolution with the talent of its master to play Zanzibar (Epeme Théodore), who, according to legend, was born with six fingers, allowing him to play with one string more than the others. In the mid- 1980s, the bikutsi rhythm evolved significantly both lyrically and harmonically. It became very danceable because the newest generation of artists added electric lead and bass guitars, as well as electric drums, to it to give it more percussive oomph. During this same period, Clément Djimogne aka Mystic Jim (or Djim) launched an innovative concept that would solidify his reputation as a legend in Cameroonian popular music, having already performed on or produced boundary pushing recordings in the region. Mystic Jim built a recording studio called Mobile Studio equipped with a 4-track recorder, instruments, sequencers and amplifiers, which he set up in his living room. He surrounded himself with an experienced team of musicians to embark on musical production on an almost industrial level. We can’t talk about bikutsi and not discuss this actor and his role within the framework of the music in general and specific role he played in the realization of Roger Bekono's third album in particular, because according to the words of some elders that we have been able to collect for the background of this project, his studio had become an essential place for most of the bikutsi artists of that time. With modest equipment, his productions and his arrangements were better than those that came from the national radio studio. (As in many other African music capitals of the time, the best-equipped studios often sat on the national television or radio grounds, rather than in the hands of private citizens.) Bekono therefore worked with him and his musicians as part of the production of Jolie Poupée. Technology had certainly evolved at that time in terms of musicality in the formerly traditional rhythms, but the programming of this music was not yet at its peak as it is today. His first two albums were recorded to tape in one or two perfect takes the old-fashioned way, so the musicians had to be extremely tight. There was no overdubbing or recording parts separately. For Jolie Poupée Mystic Jim programmed the kick or bass drum, adding effects to have a heavier bass. Overall the album represented a new level of finesse and professionalism after a two-year musical silence. In the middle of 1989, Jolie Poupée was released by the label Inter Diffusion System and aggressively hit the radio, discos and national television. The music video for the title track was on loop on TV. It felt like everyone was talking about it, even artists in adjacent music scenes like makossa. The album came out on vinyl and cassette and remains Bekono’s best-selling recording to this day. With Jolie Poupée Bekono finally made an impact outside Cameroon as the record captured listeners in some Central African countries like Equatorial Guinea, Gabon, Republic of Congo and Sao Tome & Principe. Why in these countries more precisely and not in other African countries? In these countries, we find the Fang or Mfan people (also known as Ekang), Bantu-speaking ethnic groups that are also found in Cameroon. This umbrella language group includes the language in which bikutsi is mainly sung. Most of Bekono’s songs are in French, Ewondo (of which Beti is a dialect) and Pidgin. After Bekono catapults to international renown with Jolie Poupée, he was constantly invited to “Tele Podium,” the television program reserved for Cameroonian music elite, and guest of honor by the high authorities of certain countries such as Equatorial Guinea. The technical sheet of this successful album contains the names of the brilliant musicians who made it possible: Gibraltar Drakus & Roger Mballa (backing vocals); John Paul Mondo (bass); Noon Pierrot (congas); Jean Anthony Foe Amougou (Engineer); Daniel-Cimba Evoussa (guitar); Mystic Jim (music director and engineer); Jean-Paul Assamba (percussion); Steve Ndzana (percussion, drums, Gong); Francis Z. Saho (producer); Pierrot Ahénot (rhythm guitar). The four songs on Jolie Poupée are all considered bikutsi classics. After this long period crowned with success and above all at the height of his art, Bekono decided to take a break from his musical career to enjoy family life while continuing to perform everywhere in Cameroon and even outside its borders. During this period, he became friends with some of his colleagues including Govinal (Ndi Nga Essomba), Gibraltar Drakus and Saint Desir Atango. They decided to form a quartet called Bikutsi System. In 1991, Bikutsi System released a long-awaited debut tape. Unfortunately, it didn’t meet expectations and wasn’t successful. Many younger artists had emerged in recent years like Fam Ndzengue, Bisso Solo, Opick Zoro, Zélé Le Bombardier, with a new kind of bikutsi in terms of both musicality and dance. Perhaps the album didn’t work because the term “bikusti" referred to a somewhat different sound than it did when these all star veterans first hit the scene. Nevertheless, they recorded a second album together which was much more successful and then moved on separately to solo projects. Bekono began thinking of releasing a double album, as full-force return to a solo career. At the time, most of those he worked with on his previous albums were unavailable. Zanzibar had tragically died on the eve of Les Tetes Brûlées inaugural European tour, for example. However, there was a talented new generation, thus he worked with new key people such as François Engoulou “Docta” and Tsala Martin Roger, produced by well-known figure in the bikutsi world Mr Ebanga. The double album consists of two separate cassettes Ding Ma and Makeu Aluck. In 1994, after much anticipation among audiences awaiting new songs from the now-established bikutsi star, the newly created copyright structure SOCINADA was to handle distribution. However, on the eve of the project's release, Bekono and its producer Ebanga didn’t agree on certain points about marketing the album, so the double cassette’s release was continually delayed with thousands of unsold cassettes—and years of hard work—remaining at the SOCINADA warehouse. The failure annihilated Bekono psychologically, pushing him to put an end to his professional career. In the mid-2000s, he had the ambition to open his own recording studio. Shortly after, though, he fell seriously ill and was diagnosed with severe diabetes. So he followed treatment for several years while continuing to write and compose songs just with his guitar and his sweet voice. He began to buy equipment to open his own recording studio. But the equipment was expensive. So he gradually bought what he needed but he relied on the computer skills of his eldest son Owono Bekono Emmanuel Ferdinand. He spent most of his time in the studio in his final years, with some fans still approaching him, and his friendly attitude hadn’t changed over time. Weakened and slightly emaciated by illness and the advancement of age, he continued to nurture his ambition to open his own recording studio and why not release a final album that would surprise everyone? On September 15, 2016, Bekono died of a long illness at the age of 62. In the wake of his passing the media published a wave of tributes, thanking him for what he did for Cameroonian music. He was an admired musician, songwriter and guitarist, and some of his old colleagues and some of the new generation of performers showered Bekono with vibrant tributes via social media, many of which noting something to the effect of: “The artist dies but his works remain.”

Long out-of-print and much sought after locally. First time available outside Gabon. Modernized ceremonial music from the interior forest of Gabon. Rare recordings of Bwiti ceremony music. 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

The acclaimed and highly sought-after LP by Hailu Mergia and the Walias, Tche Belew, an album of instrumentals released in 1977, is perhaps the most seminal recording released in the aftermath of the 1974 revolution. The story of the Walias band is a critical chapter in Ethiopian popular music, taking place during a period of music industry flux and political complexity in the country. Hailu Mergia, a keyboardist and arranger diligently working the nightclub scene in Addis Ababa, formed the Walias in the early 1970’s with a core group of musicians assembled from prior working bands. They played Mergia’s funk- and soul-informed tunes, while cutting 45rpm singles with various vocalists. While the Walias performed at top hotels and played the presidential palace twice, their relationship with the Derg regime was complex, evidenced by the removal of one song from the record by government censors. Decades later, Hailu Mergia was surprised to see the album fetching more than $4,000 at online auctions (it helped that the most popular of all Ethiopian tunes “Musicawi Silt” appeared on the record). Now everyone has the chance to listen again―or for the first time―to this timeless pillar of Ethiopian popular music.

THE LAMPINAK came first out in 1982 on Merzbow's own label ZSF Produkt in a small edition. Since than, this tape was never re-released in its entirety (a couple of tracks are available only on the "Merzbox") and is is much sought after. Finally OEC is re-releasing such tape in 149 hand-numbered copies. Special Yellow Cassette shell with full print / Special Yellow Cover Handanumbered eidition of 149 copies. All sounds by Masami Akita using metals, loops, voice, percussions, flute, chains, cymbals, effects, ritual orchestrations and chants. Recorded and mixed at ZSF Produkt - August / September 1985 Remastered at Munemihouse June 2019.

Good Morning Tapes salute 2025 with an opening gambit of textured ambient collage by newcomer Crust, fresh from Naarm’s fecund creative milieu.

A longtime dancer and partystarter, recently turning their hand to making music, Marcus Latcham aka Crust delivers a debut physical artefact on the back of mixes posted to soundcloud, which caught the attention of Biscuit and co’s Good Morning Tapes. Their maiden entry ‘Cell’ is intended as an abstracted metaphor for life and death, subtly deploying a palette of bittersweet, curdled ambient electronics in amniotic suspension before growing outward with a radiant new age plangency, weaving in 4th world brass tones and downbeats on its passage to a more disrupted jazzy ambient flourish. 

The B-side manifests in a transitional flux of more brooding and melodic gestures that congeal, knot, and fray with an emotive cadence that emerges in its arcing construction, mirroring “parallel thought worlds, post human voids and emotional tides”.

RIYL Seefeel, Perila, Reagenz, 3XL.

Sam Gendel is known for his work with saxophones and wind controllers. Benny Bock is a keyboardist, composer, producer and sound designer from Oakland, California. Hans Kjorstad is a musician and composer in the field of contemporary microtonal music, informed by Norwegian traditional music and experimental improvised music.

Actress marks an auspicious 20th year releasing music with a vinyl edition of his RA mix; a near hour-long collage or braque of some 100 unreleased cuts trawling his HD and traversing its depths of brisk 313 techno, silver haze synth noise and flashes of neo-classical beauty. Trailing ’Statik’ back in spring ’24, 'Дарен Дж. Каннінгем' is practically on par with the album for levels of engrossing and gritty noirish atmospheres, scattering a breadcrumb trail of puckered keys and teasing rave signals that go deep into the forest of his mind/sound at a strident pace that buckles into offbeats and practically stumbles, groggy and spangled to the close. As with all his work, an underlying, artful narrative thread ties it all together in an abstract storytelling style that has served him incredibly well thus far and continues to pique the imagination of listeners across the fields of hazed electronics and dance music who may not necessarily listen to one or the other style, yet can’t help but be snagged by his restless equilibrium of those vibes.

Sam Gendel and Antonia Cytrynowicz didn’t set out to make a record – it just happened. LIVE A LITTLE, a collection of songs resulting from one late summer afternoon in Gendel’s Los Angeles home, is less an album and more a moment. The ten tracks here were recorded mostly in one sitting, fully improvised, in the order in which they appear. It was the first and last time the songs have been played – a snapshot of an idea, an artifact of inspiration, at once both a beginning and an end. At the time of recording, Cytrynowicz was only eleven years old. The younger sister of Gendel’s significant other and creative partner Marcella, Cytrynowicz is an artist in her own way. She has no formal musical training, but is the product of a creative family and is someone who makes art the way many kids do – in the purest way, simply because they are moved to. On LIVE A LITTLE, she spontaneously crafted all the melodies and lyrics on the spot as Gendel played alongside her. Cytrynowicz’s musicality is sophisticated, strange, and other-worldly, and the resulting record is experimental jazz colliding with some sort of fantasy universe. Because of that, LIVE A LITTLE is a stand-out amidst Gendel’s extensive and varied catalog. Over the years, the multi-instrumentalist has been known for his prolific musical output as both a sought-after collaborator and as a solo artist. During 2021 alone he collaborated with Vampire Weekend, Maggie Rogers, Moses Sumney, Laurie Anderson, and Mach Hommy, as well as released Notes With Attachments with Blake Mills & legendary bassist Pino Palladino. In the same year he also released the 52-track Fresh Bread, as well as the follow-up to the acclaimed Music for Saxophone & Bass Guitar with Sam Wilkes. Then Mouthfeel / Serene, AE-30, Valley Fever Original Score, and singles “Isfahan” and “Neon Blue.” LIVE A LITTLE, though, exists on its own island. For one, the majority of Gendel’s work under his own name skews instrumental, but here the playfulness of his saxophone and nylon-string guitar work alongside the twinkle of Cytrynowicz’s voice. It’s the sound of unapologetic imagination running amok – and really, more than anything, the sound of having fun. Cytrynowicz is the ideal collaborator for Gendel, who throughout his career has remained largely unconcerned with the pageantry and presentation of the music business, instead focused solely on the music-making itself. Here, he found the purest sort of writing partner – he admires Cytrynowicz’ “supreme openness,” explaining: “Whatever is happening, she’s there with you. We really meet right where we are. She’s all ears, I’m all ears. I don’t even know how to explain what it is. It just works out somehow.” Gendel remembers first being impressed by her musicality one day while they were gathered in the backyard at her family’s home; she improvised a strange and fully-formed little composition. The melody struck Gendel - he pulled out his iPhone and had her sing into it, then later orchestrated an ornate, fully fleshed out world around the voice memo. It came easily and simply. The subsequent LIVE A LITTLE session unfolded naturally, too – no discussion, no plan, no ambition – just “let it rip.” They started when it felt right and ended when it felt finished, once the flow of ideas dissipated. Then they put it away without discussion and moved on to the next activity. For a week afterward, Gendel tinkered with the live recording, adding a part or three on top of the initial session, sculpting it into its final product; a moment of raw creativity condensed into a polished little stone. Then he brought it back to Cytrynowicz, who hadn’t heard it since that summer afternoon, and was floored by hearing what they had created. LIVE A LITTLE is a series of “what ifs” cascading into one another, off-kilter and experimental, a kaleidoscope of spontaneity and imagination. It’s a sweet distillation of the musical present, of daring to follow through on an impulse – what happens when a project is helmed by someone who doesn’t have time for second thoughts or self-doubt. “That’s why she and I can make music I think, because I don’t think I ever deviated from that approach - or at least, I hope I didn’t,” Gendel says. “I really think that’s the best way that works for me musically – that ‘no mind’ sort of thing.” And here they both decisively follow that intuition, chronicling the way an idea blossoms and moves through you. The moment is the thing, and LIVE A LITTLE just happens to capture it.