MUSIC
6265 products
‘Araya Lam’ is the 3rd album by The Paradise Bangkok Molam International Band. Following on from ‘21st Century Molam’ and ‘Planet Lam’ the band head deeper into the roots of Isan music, collaborating with others traditional musicians on Vocals, Pong-Lang, Pi and Sor. Each instrument brings something fresh to add to the group’s take on Molam music. In addition, the band nod to New York Post-Punk on ‘Zud Rang Ma’ and sounds from across the Indian ocean region on ‘Psych Lam Kor’. Looking back to their roots to move ever further forward ‘Araya lam’ is the next chapter in the always evolving Paradise Bangkok concept.
Tsapiky music from Southwest Madagascar features wild ecstatic vocals, distorted electric guitars, rocket bass, and the amphetamine beat! Unlike anything else, this is THE high life music you've always wanted - ceremonial music played with abandon and extreme intent, honoring the living and dead alike. In Toliara and its surrounding region, funerals, weddings, circumcisions and other rites of passage have been celebrated for decades in ceremonies called mandriampototse. During these celebrations – which last between three and seven days – cigarettes, beer and toaky gasy (artisanal rum) are passed around while electric orchestras play on the same dirt floor as the dancing crowds and zebus. The music, tsapiky, defies any classification. This compilation showcases the diversity of contemporary tsapiky music. Locally and even nationally renowned bands played their own songs on makeshift instruments, blaring through patched-up amps and horn speakers hung in tamarind trees, projecting the music kilometers away. Lead guitarists and female lead singers are the central figures of tsapiky. Driven as much by their creative impulses as by the need to stand out in a competitive market, the artists distinguish themselves stylistically through their lyrics, rhythms or guitar riffs. They must also master a wide repertoire of current tsapiky hits, which the families that attend inevitably request before parading in front of the orchestra with their offerings. This work, a constant push and pull between distinction and imitation, is nourished by fertile exchanges between various groups: acoustic and electric, rural and urban, coastal or inland. What results during these ceremonies is a music of astonishing intensity and creativity, played by artists carving out their own path, indifferent to the standards of any other music industry: Malagasy, African or global.
Tsapiky music from Southwest Madagascar features wild ecstatic vocals, distorted electric guitars, rocket bass, and the amphetamine beat! Unlike anything else, this is THE high life music you've always wanted - ceremonial music played with abandon and extreme intent, honoring the living and dead alike. In Toliara and its surrounding region, funerals, weddings, circumcisions and other rites of passage have been celebrated for decades in ceremonies called mandriampototse. During these celebrations – which last between three and seven days – cigarettes, beer and toaky gasy (artisanal rum) are passed around while electric orchestras play on the same dirt floor as the dancing crowds and zebus. The music, tsapiky, defies any classification. This compilation showcases the diversity of contemporary tsapiky music. Locally and even nationally renowned bands played their own songs on makeshift instruments, blaring through patched-up amps and horn speakers hung in tamarind trees, projecting the music kilometers away. Lead guitarists and female lead singers are the central figures of tsapiky. Driven as much by their creative impulses as by the need to stand out in a competitive market, the artists distinguish themselves stylistically through their lyrics, rhythms or guitar riffs. They must also master a wide repertoire of current tsapiky hits, which the families that attend inevitably request before parading in front of the orchestra with their offerings. This work, a constant push and pull between distinction and imitation, is nourished by fertile exchanges between various groups: acoustic and electric, rural and urban, coastal or inland. What results during these ceremonies is a music of astonishing intensity and creativity, played by artists carving out their own path, indifferent to the standards of any other music industry: Malagasy, African or global.
Martin Khanja (aka Lord Spike Heart) and Sam Karugu emerge from Nairobi's flourishing underground metal scene as former members of the bands Lust of a Dying Breed and Seeds of Datura. Together in 2019 they formed Duma (Darkness in Kikuyu) with Sam abandoning bass for production and guitars and Lord Spike Heart providing extreme vocals to the project.
Recorded at Nyege Nyege Studios in Kampala over three months in mid 2019 their self-titled debut album fuses the frenetic euphoria, unrelenting physicality and rebellious attitude of hardcore punk and trash metal with bone-crunching breakcore and raw, nihilist industrial noise through a claustrophobic vortex of visceral screams.
The savant mix of brutally adrenalized drums, caustic industrial trap, shredding grindcore inspired guitars and abrupt speed changes create a darkly atmospheric menace and is lethal on tracks like the opener "Angels and Abysses" , "Omni" or "Uganda with Sam".
The gruelling slow techno dirges and monolithic vocals on "Pembe 666" or "Sin Nature" add a pinch of dramatic inevitability bringing a new sense of theatricality and terrifying fate awaiting into the record's progression.
A sinister sonic aggression of feral intensity with disregard for styles, Duma promises to impact the burgeoning African metal scene moving it into totally new, boundary-challenging experimental territories.
Following Léve Léve Vol. 1, this second volume continues a long-term exploration of the popular music of São Tomé and Príncipe, with a clear focus on rhythm, movement and dancefloor energy. Curated by Tom B., Léve Léve Vol. 2 brings together emblematic recordings from the 1970s and 1980s, carefully restored and remastered, designed as much for close listening as for DJ use. The compilation deepens and completes the first volume by returning to key groups such as Sangazuza, Conjunto Equador, Africa Negra and Pedro Lima, while also unveiling previously unreleased or hard-to-find tracks. Across the record, puxa and socopê rhythms unfold with remarkable intensity, capturing these bands at the height of their powers: tight arrangements, driving grooves and a strong sense of collective momentum. Beyond celebration, Léve Léve Vol. 2 also reflects a precise cultural and political context. Several songs reference Luso-African independence struggles, spirituality, love and everyday life, anchoring this music in a history shaped by resistance, circulation and hybridization. Recorded in São Tomé, Luanda or Lisbon — often with the involvement of key figures from the Lusophone diaspora — these tracks reveal a modern musical landscape that has long remained under-documented. Conceived as a living record rather than a static archival object, this compilation speaks equally to DJs and curious listeners. It once again affirms Bongo Joe’s approach: bringing powerful, popular and complex music back into circulation, without nostalgia or exoticism, and making it fully present today.
Following Léve Léve Vol. 1, this second volume continues a long-term exploration of the popular music of São Tomé and Príncipe, with a clear focus on rhythm, movement and dancefloor energy. Curated by Tom B., Léve Léve Vol. 2 brings together emblematic recordings from the 1970s and 1980s, carefully restored and remastered, designed as much for close listening as for DJ use. The compilation deepens and completes the first volume by returning to key groups such as Sangazuza, Conjunto Equador, Africa Negra and Pedro Lima, while also unveiling previously unreleased or hard-to-find tracks. Across the record, puxa and socopê rhythms unfold with remarkable intensity, capturing these bands at the height of their powers: tight arrangements, driving grooves and a strong sense of collective momentum. Beyond celebration, Léve Léve Vol. 2 also reflects a precise cultural and political context. Several songs reference Luso-African independence struggles, spirituality, love and everyday life, anchoring this music in a history shaped by resistance, circulation and hybridization. Recorded in São Tomé, Luanda or Lisbon — often with the involvement of key figures from the Lusophone diaspora — these tracks reveal a modern musical landscape that has long remained under-documented. Conceived as a living record rather than a static archival object, this compilation speaks equally to DJs and curious listeners. It once again affirms Bongo Joe’s approach: bringing powerful, popular and complex music back into circulation, without nostalgia or exoticism, and making it fully present today.
FFO: Jimi Tenor, Meridian Brothers, The Comet Is Coming, The Mauskovic Dance Band, Sun Ra Arkestra, Idris Ackamoor & The Pyramids
Psychedelic dub, Afro-Latin rhythms and cosmic grooves come together on La Chooma’s self-titled debut for Batov Records. Drawing on Moroccan Gnawa, Colombian cumbia, Afrobeat, Jamaica dub & roots, and cosmic jazz, the six-piece ensemble create deep, hypnotic music rooted in global traditions and shaped for contemporary dancefloors.
Having already captivated local audiences with their hypnotic, organic live performances, La Chooma – now a six-piece ensemble – have been steadily building an international following. Initial singles “Magic Plant” and “Huachuma” earned support from tastemakers including BBC Radio 6 Music’s Deb Grant and Tom Ravenscroft.
“Magic Plant” distills the band’s signature blend of hypnotic grooves, lush percussion and woozy synths, like Jimi Tenor lost in the Colombian Amazon. A dreamlike, dub-infused trip driven by organic rhythm and cosmic textures. “Huachuma” picks up the thread, fusing Afrobeat percussion, swirling basslines and psychedelic flourishes into a hallucinogenic jam made for a tropical dancefloor.
“High Grow” conjures images of The X-Files set in Addis Ababa, with Ethio-jazz-style synths dancing and tripping across a relentless Mulatu-inspired bassline and Afrobeat drums, all drenched in foreboding dub delay. Perfect for dark, smoke-filled rooms in the small hours.
Like the lost child of Idris Ackamoor & The Pyramids and The Comet Is Coming, “Lonely” hits like a sledgehammer of cosmic synth funk and intense Afro-rock drums, riding an acoustic bassline that breaks into a frenetic solo after a minute. The drums constantly threaten to overwhelm, but open up for the spiraling synths to peak half way through the track.
“Cozumel” follows seamlessly, moving to a slightly slower groove built on a deep electric bassline and irresistible four-to-the-floor Afro-Latin rhythms. Synths rise in harmony with the haunting call of the hand-carved Egyptian kawala flute as the energy builds in the third minute before the tension finally releases. There’s something in the music’s spiritual core and soulful presence that recalls the groundbreaking work of Jamaican legends Count Ossie and Cedric Brooks, who fused jazz with Rastafari drumming.
La Chooma draw dotted lines across time and space, finding hidden connections and shared frequencies, pulling threads together into a sound that hypnotises the mind and moves the body.
Recorded in 1966, Os Afro-Sambas is a groundbreaking album that fuses traditional samba with Afro-Brazilian spiritual rhythms from candomblé and umbanda. The collaboration between virtuoso guitarist Baden Powell and poet Vinícius de Moraes creates a deeply evocative soundscape, blending haunting melodies, rich harmonies, and intricate arrangements. Featuring the vocal harmonies of Quarteto em Cy, the album honors Bahia’s cultural roots while expanding the expressive possibilities of Brazilian music.
Born in 1944 on Martinique island, Max Cilla worked his whole life to resurrect the bamboo flute played by his forebears in the fields from the relative oblivion into which it had fallen in the early 20th century. At first, Max Cilla built them. He went up into his native coastal hills to manufacture them according to traditional rules used in India. Using a simple piece of rough wood, he fabricated a noble instrument of great « historical » significance that showed the way for a younger generation in search of its identity. « I came up with the name of the coastal hills flute »: the great mystic asserts. Fascinated by Cuban music and Latin rhythms, he composed & played his own songs accompanied by the island’s traditional percussions. He recorded and released La Flute des Mornes Vol.1 in 1981. Max Cilla played with Archie Shepp in Paris, recorded on Bonga’s album Angola 74, shared the stage with Tito Puente & Machito and keep on playing today.
"Natural Information Society, like their partners in time Bitchin Bajas, live their days in flow motion. Rhythms come and go, instruments sound as a means to a greater end. Music is the way of their life. Their debut convergence, Automaginary, feels as natural as it does inevitable. Both groups were first heard in 2010, both emerging from solo endeavors that accessed a vastness, more room than a single player might ultimately fill -- a place then for fellow travelers! Joshua Abrams, a questing bassist and improviser by trade, with an extensive discography of solo recordings and collaborations with a wide variety of artists, formed Natural Information Society as a conduit for the live presentation of his guimbri music. Abrams had delved into the sound of the threestringed Gnawan lute on his own, intrigued by the instrument's ability to provide melodic and rhythmic direction with a minimal, hypnotic palette. Known for the drone also are Bitchin Bajas. Cooper Crain of CAVE started the Bajas to explore his fascination with vintage electronics and recording techniques. With Dan Quinlivan on keyboards as well, Bitchin Bajas' discography has explored a range of dynamic approaches, producing various proportions of atmosphere and soundtrack that move from becalmed stasis to synthetic beat-building with a prescient liquidity. Both Natural Information Society and Bitchin Bajas are in pursuit of the unconscious in their musical expression, and through their independent methods, both have ridden the wind to unseen places, using the playing as the carpet that will take them there. A multitude of influences swarm amoebically in their sounds, from the mud of ancient Afro-groove to 20th-century classical austerity, from the clatter of freedom jazz to the 4/4 of kraut and disco and fusion beyond -- and then beyond the music and into the air. Wrapped up in a screen-printed jacket from visual artist Lisa Alvarado, whose aesthetic sense is a touchstone for the vision of Natural Information Society, Automaginary is psychedelic and ambient and jazz -- yet none of it either, the whole being more than the sum of former parts. This is music of unique variance, a remarkably perfect congregation of the two tribes that are Natural Information Society & Bitchin Bajas."
Reissue of the third album from Brazilian combo. Creatively visionary and groundbreaking on numerous terms, 1975 'O Africanto dos Tincoãs' (as the previous Os Tincoas album) revolutionized Brazilian music by harmonizing Afro-religious singing, heavenly vocal harmonies, and Percussive rhythms derived from Candomblé traditions.
Even though it was recorded during a time of political repression, the album remains gentle, rhythmic, and eflecting Afro-Brazilian syncretism and resonating with themes of suffering, exile, and hope.
For years, Takuro Okada has carried a quiet question: how can a Japanese musician honor the music of African Americans without simply borrowing it? That search shapes his new album Konoma, a work guided by the idea of “Afro Mingei.” The Tokyo guitarist, producer, and bandleader has lived inside this tension since childhood, drawn to blues, jazz, and funk records that nourished him, yet hesitant in the face of the histories they hold. The concept of Afro Mingei, which Okada first encountered in an exhibition by artist Theaster Gates, gave him a way forward. Gates connected Black aesthetics with Japanese folk craft, both rooted in resistance — “Black is Beautiful” defying racism, the Mingei movement preserving everyday beauty against industrial erasure. That kinship became the compass for Konoma, a record attuned to echoes across cultures and time.
Konoma holds six originals and two covers, all shaped by this dialogue. The elegantly unhurried “Portrait of Yanagi” drifts like a standard half-remembered from another era, while the brief but potent “Galaxy” gestures toward Sun Ra’s late 1970s electric organ experiments, the fractured propulsion of Flying Lotus’s early beat tapes, and the shadowy atmospheres of trip-hop. Okada’s choice of covers sharpens the conversation: Jan Garbarek’s “Nefertite” shimmers with the cool austerity of 1970s ECM, reframing Europe’s own search for identity inside jazz, while Hiromasa Suzuki’s “Love” channels the electric vibrancy of 1970s Japanese fusion, when musicians fused psychedelia, funk, and folk into a distinctly local dialect. Together, they anchor Konoma in a lineage of artists who bent borrowed forms toward something new.
Okada’s life has been shaped by such crossings. He grew up in Fussa, where the Yokota U.S. Air Force base loomed large, learning guitar in rowdy clubs for American servicemen while teaching himself recording at home. That hybrid education led to collaborations with Haruomi Hosono, Nels Cline, Sam Gendel, James Blackshaw, and Carlos Niño, and to a body of work spanning film soundtracks, collaborative projects, and exploratory solo albums. Earlier this year, Temporal Drift released The Near End, The Dark Night, The County Line, which features selections from Okada’s expansive archive of recorded material, cementing his reputation as one of Japan’s most adventurous contemporary musicians. With Konoma, co-released by ISC Hi-Fi Selects and Temporal Drift, Okada delivers his most personal and expansive statement yet: a meditation on connection, influence, and the beauty that survives across cultures.
- Words by Randall Roberts
Éthiopiques is back! Armenian-born composer, arranger and instructor Nerses Nalbandian was the key pioneer of modern Ethiopian music. He laid the foundations for « Swinging Addis » and for ethio-jazz. This volume revives Nalbandian’s forgotten legacy, recorded live by the Either/Orchestra & Ethiopian Guests. “Ethiopian jazzmen are the best musicians that we have seen so far in Africa. They really are promising handlers of jazz instruments.” Wilbur De Paris (1959, after a concert in Addis Ababa) አዲስ፡ዘመን። Addis zèmèn A new era. The time is the mid-1950s and early 1960s, just before "Swinging Addis" bloomed – or rather boomed – onto the scene. Brass instruments are still dominant, but the advent of the electric guitar, and the very first electronic organs, are just around the corner. Rock’n'Roll, R’n’B, Soul and the Twist have not yet barged their way in. Addis Ababa is steeped in the big band atmosphere of the post-war era, with Glenn Miller's In the Mood as its world-wide theme song, neck and neck with the Latin craze that was in vogue at the same period. Life has become enjoyable once again, with the return of peace after the terrible Italian Fascist invasion of Ethiopia (1935-1941). The redeployment of modern music is part and parcel of the postwar reconstruction. Addis zèmèn – a new era – is the watchword of the postwar period, just as it was all across war-torn Europe. The generation who were the young parents of baby boomers were the first to enjoy this musical renaissance, before the baby boomers themselves took over and forever super-charged the soundtrack of the final days of imperial reign. Music is Ethiopia's most popular art form, and very often serves as the best barometer for the upsurge of energy that is critical for reconstruction. Whether it be jazz in Saint-Germain-des-Prés or the zazous who revolutionised both jazz and French chanson after the Libération, be it Madrid's post-Franco Movida, or Dada, the Surrealists and les années folles that followed World War I, the periods just after mourning and hardship always give rise to brighter and more tuneful tomorrows. Addis Ababa, as the country's capital, and the epicentre of change, was no exception to this vital rule. Two generations of Nalbandian musicians Nersès Nalbandian belonged to a family of Armenian exiles, who had moved to Ethiopia in the mid-1920s. The uncle Kevork arrived along with the fabled "Arba Lidjotch", the "40 Kids", young Armenian orphans and musicians that the Ras Tafari had recruited when he visited Jerusalem in 1924, intending to turn their brass band into the official imperial band. If Kevork Nalbandian was the one who first opened the way of modernism, pushing innovation so far as to invent musical theatre, it was his nephew Nersès who would go on to become, from the 1940s and until his death in 1977, a pivotal figure of modern Ethiopian music and of the heights it. Going all the way back to the 1950s. Nothing less. And it is Nersès who is largely to thank for the brassy colours that so greatly contributed to the international renown of Ethiopian groove. While the younger generations today venture timidly into the genealogy of their country's modern music, often losing their way amidst a distinctly xenophobic historiographical complacency, many survivors of the imperial period are still around to bear witness and pay tribute to the essential role that "Moussié Nersès" played in the rise of Abyssinia's musical modernity. Given the year of his birth (15 March 1915), no one knows for sure if Nersès Nalbandian was born in Aintab, today Gaziantep (Turkiye/former Ottoman Empire) or on the other side of the border in Alep, Syria... What is certain is that his family, like the entire Armenian community, was amongst the victims of the genocide perpetrated by the Turks. Alep, the place of safety – today in ruins. Before Nersès then, there was uncle Kevork (1887-1963). For a quarter of a century, he was a whirlwind of activity in music teaching and theatrical innovation. Guèbrè Mariam le Gondaré (የጎንደሬ ገብረ ማርያም አጥቶ ማግኘት, 1926 EC=1934) is his most famous creation. This play included "ten Ethiopian songs" — a totally innovative approach. According to his autobiographical notes, preserved by the Nalbandian family, Kevork indicates that he composed some 50 such pieces over the course of his career. This shows just how much he understood, very early on, the critical importance of song as Ethiopia's crowning artistic form. Indeed, for Ethiopian listeners, the most important thing is the lyrics, with all their multifarious mischief, far more than a strong melody, sophisticated arrangements or even an exceptional voice. (This is also why Ethiopians by and large, and beginning with the artists and producers themselves, believed for a long time — and wrongly — that their music could not possibly be exported, and could never win over audiences abroad, who did not speak the country's languages). Last but not least, one of Kevork's major contributions remains composing Ethiopia's first national anthem – with lyrics by Yoftahé Negussié. Nersès Nalbandian moved to Ethiopia at the end of the 1930s, at the behest of his ground-breaking uncle. Proficient in many instruments (pretty much everything but the drums), conductor, choir director, composer, arranger, adapter, creator, piano tuner, purveyor of rented pianos,... he was above all an energetic and influential teacher. From 1946 onwards, thanks to Kevork's connexion, Nersès was appointed musical director of the Addis Ababa Municipality Band. In just a few years, Nersès transformed it into the first truly modern ensemble, thanks to the quality of his teaching, his choice of repertoire, and the sophistication of his arrangements. It was this group that would go on to become the orchestra of the Haile Selassie Theatre shortly after its inauguration in 1955, which was a major celebration of the Emperor's jubilee, marking the 25th anniversary of his on-again-off-again reign. At some point or other in his long career, Nersès Nalbandian had a hand in the creation of just about every institutional band (Municipality Band, Police Orchestra, Imperial Bodyguard Band, Army Band, Yared Music School…), but it was with the Haile Selassie Theatre – today the National Theatre – that his abilities were most on display, up until his death in 1977. To this must be added the development of choral singing in Ethiopia, hitherto unknown, and a sort of secret garden dedicated to the memory of Armenian sacred music, and brought together in two thick, unpublished volumes. Shortly before his death (November 13, 1977), he was appointed to lead the impressive Ethiopian delegation at Festac in Lagos, Nigeria (January-February 1977). His status as a stateless foreigner regularly excluded him from the most senior positions, in spite of the respect he commanded (and commands to this day) from the musicians of his era. Naturally gifted and largely self-taught, Nerses was tirelessly curious about new musical developments, drawing inspiration from the very first imported records, and especially from listening intensely to the musical programmes broadcast over short-wave radio – BBC First. A prolific composer and arranger, he was constantly mindful of formalising and integrating Ethiopian parameters (specific “musical modes”, pentatonic scale, and the dominance of ternary rhythms) into his “modernisation” of the musical culture, rather than trying to over-westernise it. It even seems very probable that Moussié Nerses made a decisive contribution to the development of tighter music-teaching methods, in order to revitalise musical education during this period of prodigious cultural ferment. Flying in the face of all the historiographical and musicological evidence, it is taken as sacrosanct dogma that the four musical modes or chords officially recognised today, the qǝñǝt or qiñit (ቅኝት), are every bit as millennial as Ethiopia itself. It would appear however that some streamlining of these chords actually took place in around 1960. It was only from this time onward that music teaching was structured around these four fundamental musical modes and chords: Ambassel, Bati, Tezeta and Antchi Hoyé. A historical and musical “details” that is, apparently, difficult to swallow, especially if that should honour a foreigner. Modern Ethiopian music has Nersès to thank for many of its standards and, to this day, it is not unusual for the National Radio to broadcast thunderous oldies that bear unmistakable traces of his outrageously groovy touch. Honor and disgrace (A tale of three anthems) The life of an immigrant, not to mention a stateless person, in Ethiopia, is anything but a bed of roses. Beyond the remarkable successes, the immigrant – the fèrendj — has to contend with many humiliations, given how insular, and even passionately xenophobic, Ethiopia's national mindset is. Two-faced finesse, complication elevated to a fine art, the ambiguity of double-entendres, all sorts of petty compromises, bank-shots worthy of karambola billiards, the tyranny of appearances, elegant evasiveness, jovial jesuitry, forced modesty..., Ethiopian Byzantinism can certainly give rise to some strange tragicomedies. The Nalbandians, the uncle and the nephew, are associated with three anthems: two national and one continental – Africa Africa, the official anthem of the Organisation of African Unity. The first Ethiopian national anthem was composed by Kevork Nalbandian, at the request of the Ras Tafari as early as 1925. After the young regent had had the quality of the composition affirmed by the Royal College of Music in London, this anthem “was played for the first time at the coronation of H.M. the King Taffari, at the Sellassié Church (Church of the Trinity), on October 7, 1928”. From then on it accompanied the country's official ceremonies for half a century, until the revolution that overthrew Haile Selassie in 1974. When the revolution came, the new "Red Negus" soon ordered up a new anthem, to mark the change of era and of regime. According to the historic saxophonist and clarinettist Mèrawi Setot, sixty-some proposals were submitted as sealed bids. Fatalitas fatalitatis! It was Nersès Nalbandian, in partnership with Tsegaye Guèbrè-Medhen for the lyrics, who was selected by the jury. This met a flat refusal by the dictator Menguistu Haylè-Maryam, who was resolutely hostile to the idea of patriotic lyricism depending once again upon a foreigner and who, to make matters worse, was yet another Nalbandian… The runner-up that was finally selected proved to be literally unplayable, and its composer, who was also the director of the national school of music (the Yaréd School), had the cheek to ask Nerses Nalbandian to kindly straighten out his utterly unplayable score. Although generally not a stickler about being credited, Nerses required that this request be put in writing before he carried it out. Still more shameful, if possible, was the tragicomedy that was played out in the wings during the opening ceremony of the OAU, the Organisation of African Unity. A continental anthem had been commissioned from Nerses Nalbandian. Africa Africa. Lyrics by Ayaléw Desta. For the inaugural ceremony (May 25, 1963), the Ethiopian authorities did not feel that they could decently put a white conductor up on stage, displaying him in front of an audience of newly decolonised African dignitaries. Nerses was relegated to the wings, conducting the orchestra in profile within sight only of the visible conductor, who was surely hard put to reflect the charisma of the rightful conductor. A missed opportunity for the new Africa. How many other humiliations?... The account of Nerses's son Vartkes Nalbandian is required reading to fully measure the pain of exile in a beloved and lovingly adopted country. Highway robbery The hyperactive Nerses Nalbandian only recorded three songs on vinyl: Tebèb nèw tèqami, Adèrètch Arada and Qèlèméwa (Philips Ethiopia PH 088181 [1967] and PH 108 [1971]). This is surely a question of generation — and of temperament. The musician was already well into his fifties when the brief heyday of Ethiopian vinyl (1969-1977) got underway, entirely managed by a cohort of upstart 25-year-old boomers. The only way to listen to Nalbandian today is to rely on a few nostalgic radio programmes, or to get hold of forgotten reel-to-reel tapes and to patiently restore them. There is not even a trade in bootleg cassettes amongst Ethiopian musical history fanatics, nor are there any sound archives at the National Theatre. Unlike all the other great Ethiopian artists (who kept no documentary records of their careers), Nerses Nalbandian did leave behind extraordinary family archives, which allow us to decipher not only the whole of his personal journey, but also the triumphant march of Swinging Addis towards its peak, as immortalized in the definitive vinyls. A gold mine of first-hand information on the history of Ethiopian music. Scores, concert programmes, official and private correspondence, detailed proposals, plans and budgets, etc., along with reasoned objections, or even firm refusals... An entire book should be devoted to the life's work of this veritable founding father who championed the causes of music in Ethiopia. It must be underscored that, from 1955 until his death, Nerses Nalbandian was truly the key figure of modern Ethiopian music. Nothing less. We must see beyond the shortcuts and the glossing-over borne of a lazy journalism that insists on seeing in the Ethio-Jazz of Mulatu Astatke [Astatqé] the alpha and the omega of “Swinging Addis”. With the willing assent of its creator, this fine innovation has been turned into a hagiographic and hegemonic category intended to gather under its wing not only the disputed masterpieces of its self-proclaimed godfather, but all manner of Ethiopian pop music, from Tlahoun Gèssèssè to Mahmoud Ahmed by way of Alèmayèhu Eshèté or Gétatchèw Mèkurya... Let us remember that Mulatu only returned to Ethiopia at the very end of the 1960s, after more than ten years of studious exile, whereas the so-called "Swinging Addis" had actually begun in around 1960 – or even in 1955. Mulatu was 17 years old in 1960! – a student in the United Kingdom and then in the USA between 1958 and 1969… This is not to deny his role, but simply to assign him a place that is more consistent with historical reality, amidst of genuine innovation, alleged plagiarism, and oversized influence, which still casts a long shadow today. The media's appetite for forgotten old talents, saved by the bell, tends too often to discount the most stubborn of facts. Dear music lovers, let's make one last try to take a fair view of the history of modern Ethiopian music, and of the ways it has been unfairly mislabelled! Even today, it still seems just as unthinkable, in this extravagantly chauvinistic country, to simply recognise in Nerses Nalbandian the essential father figure of modern Ethiopian music. Of course there was no shortage of illustrious arrangers for the institutional bands of the 1960s (such as Haylou Wolde-Mariam, Girma Hadgu, Sahle Degago or Lemma Demissew…). But none of them, much youngers, possessed Nerses's velvet-gloved charisma, his demanding and impeccable standards, his integrity as an Ethiopianised fèrendj, his ferocious appetite for hard work, or his strictly musical authority, free from the treacherous hierarchies of the institutional bands (Imperial Bodyguard, Police, Army). For this chronic workaholic, music teaching, content programming, rigorous studies, and the creation of a modern Conservatory, were all links in the same chain of duties that were essential to the development of music in Ethiopia. It must be strongly underscored that the great historical pioneer of this music is an Armenien emigrant, deeply Ethiopianised, Nerses Nalbandian, Nalbandian the Ethiopian. Russ Gershon and Either/Orchestra And then came Russ Gershon. With his Either/Orchestra. A musician like Russ Gershon (born in 1959), saxophonist, composer, arranger, band leader, producer in charge of the Accurate Records label, who has played with Cab Calloway, the Four Tops, Morphine, John Medeski, Matt Wilson, Josh Roseman, Miguel Zenon, Bobby Ward and Willie “Loco” Alexander (to name only a few) can't help but make a strong impression. Especially when one learns that he wrote a Harvard University thesis on Manet's Le déjeuner sur l’herbe, produced free-flowing radiophonic orgies (52 hours of Ornette Coleman, Charlie Mingus, etc.), and counts Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Sun Ra and Gil Evans among his favorite musicians. The first fèrendj maestro (after Charles Sutton of Orchestra Ethiopia) to fall under the spell of Abyssinian chords, Russ Gershon has been conducting his own big band since 1985. Captivated in 1994 by the nascent Ethiopian groove that was emerging in the West, he has been engaged ever since in exploring and deepening this discovery, which paired so naturally with his encyclopedic jazzicism, thus opening the way for a surprising number of groups with undeniably Ethio-friendly inclinations, on every continent. Two concert tours in Ethiopia (2004 and 2011) and a few albums later, these Nalbandian recordings are at long last being released. éthiopiques 20 (Either/Orchestra & Guests - Live in Addis, 2005) already spoke volumes about E/O. What better now than to turn straight to Russ Gershon's own impressions and analysis (p. xx + pdf complet sur le CD). No one has acquired a deeper musical and historical grasp of Nerses Nalbandian's innumerable musical scores, nor developed an ongoing relationship with the Nalbandian family, which possesses a veritable treasure of information. The Bostonian's curiosity, precision and scrupulous commentary constitute an indispensable exploration of the musical genesis of "Swinging Addis". This recording represents the vital modernist link that was heretofore missing in these éthiopiques. Francis Falceto English translation by Karen Lou Albrecht
Olvido Records is proud to present African Steel, a follow-up to 2019’s African country-western compilation Bulwayo Blue Yodel. Here we have a compendium of beautiful songs highlighting the early years of the slide guitar in southern, central and eastern Africa. Featuring traditional and popular regional styles adapting the acoustic lap-steel guitar, African Steel reveals intriguing influences from southern American country and blues, Argentinian and European tango, and back to the Hawaiian origins of the instrument, long before the shimmering electric slide guitar of Docteur Nico, and the pedal steel mastery of Demola Adepoju of King Sunny Ade's African Beats. Ranging from up-tempo dance numbers, to plaintive bottleneck-blues style ballads, to a Ugandan string-band cover of a Jimmie Rodgers classic, each song presented here is a unique glimpse into the early years of the slide guitar’s incorporation into various African musical cultures. These fourteen songs have been carefully restored from rare shellac and lacquer discs to honor and celebrate a previously under-represented chapter in global music history, and includes a booklet with contextual notes and translated lyrics.
A Senegalese Griot singer, an Amsterdam improviser and a Puerto Rican jazz drummer find eachother on an open playground, a stage build for improvisation, an old cinema now used for minute made story telling. Equiped with an m'bira, a xalam, a drumkit, a voice, percussion, house hold tools and an electric chlavichord on 220 volt, they sit down and take off: Wrrrrrraaang!
Singer and percussionist Mola Sylla is in many ways a musical explorer. Born and raised in Dakar, Senegal, he grew up in the tradition of the griots. Griots play conveying stories – sometimes decorated with music, theater and dance – which all play an important role in West African culture. His rhythm and melodic compositions differ from the western agreed schedules and provide surprising twists.
Puerto Rican drummer Frank Rosaly has been involved in the improvised and experimental music scenes since 2001 when he became an integral part of Chicago's musical fabric, navigating a fine line between the vibrant improvised music, experimental, rock and jazz communities.
Oscar Jan Hoogland is the sound of Amsterdam in person. He is an instant composer and inventor of his own instrument by joining a clavichord, a keyboard instrument from the 17th century, to 220 Volt electricity. As the last student of the late pianist, composer and improvisor Misha Mengelberg he tears like a tornado through the Amsterdam jazz and impro scene.
Together they are MOTHER TONGUE.
SML is the quintet of bassist Anna Butterss, synthesist Jeremiah Chiu, saxophonist Josh Johnson, percussionist Booker Stardrum, and guitarist Gregory Uhlmann. Their second album, How You Been, finds the supergroup of prolific composer/producers pushing ever further into the hyperrealist, collectivist approach to music creation nascently explored on their debut Small Medium Large, which was lauded as “awe-inspiring” by Glide, “exuberant” by the Los Angeles Times, and “an exciting milestone” by Pitchfork.
How You Been represents a breakthrough in the musical language of the group. This new work was crafted via extensive post-production of recordings from a handful of shows in a similar fashion to their debut, but whereas Small Medium Large was constructed from analog tapes of the band’s very first (and very modest) shows at bygone Highland Park LA venue ETA, How You Been was built with a higher level of self-awareness and a far deeper pool of source material.
Behind the thrust of the first album’s success, the band approached every performance in late 2024 and early 2025 as a generative opportunity to hone their sound and document their expansion across a new landscape of audiences, venues, and cities. Despite the premeditation driving their commitment to record every moment, the band started every show without musical direction, improvising intuitively, completely. Within every performance is an impressive display of the band’s total trust in one another and confidence in their own instincts.
As SML has evolved and spread out in space-time, their fluencies, both as an improvising unit in performance and as a production team in the studio, have sharpened. At inception the band inspired disparate but distinctive artist comparisons like Essential Logic, Oval, Herbie Hancock’s Sextant, and electric Miles Davis, as well as assorted genre touchpoints like Afrobeat, kosmiche, proto-techno and new-jazz. With How You Been their work manages to both collapse and explode such derivatives, displaying a new, high resolution version of SML, fully-flowered into a new strain of sound, bound to incite its own copycats in due time.
“SML might signal a new iteration of jazz, or it might not be jazz at all, or it might not matter.” - Pitchfork
It’s important to note that SML’s sound wasn’t created in a vacuum. The band is part of an extensive community of creative musicians who collaborate in a multitude of ways, and that community has proven to be essential to a growing family tree of innovative, genre-expanding music. Los Angeles in the 2020s is a musical Petri dish in the same way that Cologne & Dusseldorf were for the birth of Krautrock; Canterbury for progressive rock in the late 60s; NYC for No Wave & the Downtown sound in the late 70s and 80s; Chicago for genreless, Tortoise-adjacent sounds in the 90s. The musicians of SML represent the core of a new school within the Los Angeles jazz and improvised music scene that seems to breed infinitely overlapping combinations, including Jeff Parker’s ETA IVtet and Expansion Trio, the Uhlmann Johnson Wilkes trio, Anna Butterss’s own band (as heard on 2024’s Mighty Vertebrate), and various other solo and ensemble projects encompassing every single member of the SML, respectively.
On How You Been the curatorial challenge of the capture-cut production employed by SML is met by the delightful happenstance of each member being a seasoned producer on their own merit. Accordingly, SML’s perspective on what is a moment to expand upon with the post-producer’s knife and glue is five-strong. Each member’s proclivities, penchants, and predelections get their chance to filter the always-evolving elements of the group concept.
“Chicago Four” uses a live recording from treasured Chicago haunt The Empty Bottle as its foundation. It begins with interlocking synth and percussion loops before the entry of Uhlmann’s wobble-effected electric guitar melody and Butterss’s picked bass counterpoint. Stardrum’s swinging traps slide in, catching up to a couple of added percussion layers, before Johnson adds distorted chordal hits that sound like hard horn samples from a golden era Bomb Squad or Rakim beat. It all intertwines perfectly and makes an otherworldly vehicle for Johnson and Chiu’s cascading keyed melody, which soars above and between, complimenting either side of a hypnotically shifting, infectiously repeating modulation.
“Brood Board SHROOM” is a temporary touchdown on an alien planet where rhythm moves in timeless, breath-like undulations, with repetitions cut from a very different cloth than the lock-step polyrhythmic grooves of “Chicago Four.” The track’s opening lines evoke the soft throbs of the beloved ambient works of Aphex Twin (or perhaps a Robitussen-drenched take on Steve Reich’s Different Trains), before frothy curtains of textured sound drape into the mix, overlaying like distant, minimalist symphonies in a gentle, synthetic recreation of free time — slackening and accelerating as each layer of tonal pulses hovers to front-and-center or retreats into the distance. It’s a gut feeling rather than an academic exercise, and it’s all in the service of forward motion. “Plankton” occupies a similar space albeit in bite-sized form, centering Buterss’s low end melodicism and high-string visitations surrounded by skittering tonal chatter from their bandmates.
Of course, SML’s experiments with this kind of pulsating freedom are heavily balanced by muscular turns and body mechanics fit for the dancefloor. “Taking Out the Trash” is a perfect pace-setter for How You Been, a punchy nugget encapsulating the essence of SML. Chiu’s percussion synth establishes the groove before Stardrum and Butterss drop in on a heavy breakbeat. Uhlmann comes in with a searing, plucked staccato funk line on his guitar that would give Glenn Branca and Larry Coryell something to high five about. Things eventually trip into a total breakdown, with only the perc synth still looping. When the band explodes back in, the key has changed, and Johnson is letting loose on a wailing, distorted saxophone solo.
“Is there a way to dim the lights a little more?” Chiu asks at the start of the album’s closer “Mouth Words.” Moments later SML takes us out with a mid-tempo 4/4 groover dressed in swelling glissandos and punctuated by insistent, rapid-fire phrases from Johnson’s alto. As the final tune dissolves into a layer of arpeggiated chirps and sampled crowd sounds, Chiu’s voice is back again to say what we’re all thinking: “Very good. Thank you.”
