MUSIC

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

“I think one of the most exciting things about the reintroduction of Horizon Unlimited is the fact that young folk love our music, and are surprised at the upbeat tempo, and the lyrics, which are not only of today, but also very futuristic as well. Horizon Unlimited was our last album with Decca that came out in 1979. It’s been a long time since then and this really is part of a much longer story, but amongst one of the most significant things I remember was that we, The Lijadu Sisters, paid for all the studio and band session fees. At the time, this was unusual, and not the arrangement we had with that record label. We were originally meant to record at Decca West Africa in Lagos, but when we got to the studio, no one had told us that it was being upgraded – from eight tracks to twenty-four. So, we brought everyone to London and made the album there instead.” –Yeye Taiwo Lijadu

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.”

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.”

Strut presents a brand new reissue of Juju’s powerful Afrocentric album ‘Chapter Two: Nia’ from 1974, originally released on Strata East. Juju formed in San Francisco and moved to New York in July 1972. "We were avant-garde artists and revolutionary agents for change," explains bandleader James “Plunky” Branch. "We played venues like Slugs, the East, and Ornette Coleman’s loft on Prince Street; we also met and hung out with the greats, from Pharoah Sanders to John Gilmore. "By 1974, Plunky and the band had relocated to Richmond, Virginia. "New York’s cost of living was high, and I thought Richmond could be a fresh creative environment. We stayed in the home of my oldest and best friend, which we dubbed the Juju Raga Artist House. We lived upstairs and converted the downstairs into the first black arts gallery and performance space in the state." In June 1974, Juju recorded their second album for Strata-East, Chapter Two: Nia, at Eastern Recording Studios in Richmond. "The music was Afrocentric," continues Plunky, "and we included black nationalistic poetry written and spoken by Ngoma Ya Uhuru, a high school friend who had spent time with Amiri Baraka’s Spirit House." The album also featured a remarkable freeform cover of Pharoah Sanders’ classic ‘Black Unity.’ Juju became the local Virginia exponents of progressive ideas that were being expressed nationally and internationally, attracting a small, active group of artists and supporters. However, being in the South, Richmond's black music audience leaned towards blues, gospel, and soul. After much consideration, Juju decided to incorporate trap drums and a backbeat, blending these rhythms with electric sounds, and rebranded as Oneness Of Juju. With a new lineup and renewed energy, the band began a new chapter, releasing their classic African Rhythms album a year later. This new reissue of Juju’s ‘Chapter Two: Nia’ includes the full original artwork, featuring cover art adapted from a concert video still by Collis Davis. Remastered from the original tapes by The Carvery, this Strut release also includes brand new liner notes by bandleader James “Plunky” Branch.

Multi-instrumentalist Jack Wyllie (Portico Quartet/Szun Waves) presents his new project Paradise Cinema. It was recorded in Dakar, Senegal in collaboration with mbalax percussionists Khadim Mbaye (saba drums) and Tons Sambe (tama drums). The impressionistic and dream-like quality of ‘Paradise Cinema’ is a stunningly effective realisation of Wyllie’s experience, in a hypnagogic state of aural consciousness: “I had a lot of nights in Dakar, when the music around the city would go on until 6am. I could hear this from my bed at night and it all blended together, in what felt like an early version of the record.” Atmospherically ‘Paradise Cinema’ is vaporous and enigmatic, but also percussive; existing in a paradoxical sound-space that’s amorphous, yet still purposeful, serene, but propulsive and aesthetically sharp. Khadim Mbaye and Tons Sambe, provide the rhythmic backbone of the record. There are traditional elements of mbalax rhythm, but it is often deconstructed or played at tempos outside of the tradition, so while it hints at a location it occupies a space outside of any specific region. ‘Paradise Cinema’ is also informed by notions of hauntology – a philosophical concept originating in the work of French philosopher Jacques Derrida – on possible futures that were never realised and how directions taken in the past can haunt the present. On the album’s title Wyllie comments, “there are a handful of old cinemas in Dakar – these big modernist buildings dotted around the city built around independence. They’re old and derelict now, but feel to me like monuments to that period, when the city was flooded with utopian ideas about its potential futures.” As such it sits closely to 4th world music – situated in an imagined culture and time that never came to pass. And while it contains rhythmic references to Senegal it combines these elements with ambient and minimalist music to produce a sound that sits outside of any tradition. Setting the tone for the long-player’s themes is the optimism-driven, balmy beauty of ‘Possible Futures’, where rich-toned drums throb and levitate in a stratospheric ether. Like a time-lapse video of plants in bloom, ‘It Will Be Summer Soon’ is the sound of anticipation and growth. Rhythmically it flickers and flutters, evoking rainfall, or the blurred wings of a bird in in flight. Casamance moves through field recordings drifting in and out of focus, beats pitched-down low and unfurling saxophone, whilst the ambient ‘Utopia’ was made mainly with processed saxophone and suggests a longing for a perfect world. Galloping percussion juxtaposes with a wistful mood on ‘Liberté’ – a title that references a derelict modernist cinema in Dakar of the same name – a hauntological landmark, made more poignant by the its name being part of the French national motto. Tying into the cover artwork, Jack explains, “the ‘Digital Palm is a telecommunications mast disguised as a palm tree in central Dakar. As a modern piece of technology that on first glance looks natural, it mirrors the combination of modern and acoustic elements.” Perhaps eliciting a time that never came, or maybe still in hope of it yet to come, ‘Eternal Spring’ concludes the LP’s otherworldly beauty with hypnotic drums powering a subtly-building, sparkling and powerful crescendo. Jack Wyllie is a musician, composer, electronic producer who draws on influences of jazz, ambient, and the trance-inducing repetition of minimalism. Wyllie performs and records in Portico Quartet, Szun Waves (with Luke Abbott and Laurence Pike) and Xoros. He has also collaborated with Charles Hayward, Adrian Corker and Chris Sharkey and released on Ninja Tune, Babel, Leaf, Real World and Gondwana. Khadim Mbaye and Toms Sambe play in various mbalax groups in Dakar. Khadim has also toured internationally with Cheikh Lo.

Root Echoes is described by Pedro Elías Corro, better known as DJ Babatr, as “a celebration of resilience, joy and solidarity on the dancefloor.” The album offers a raw, powerful snapshot of the raptor house sound in one of its most formative and expressive periods. Carefully selected from Babatr’s personal archive, it connects ground-shaking tracks produced in Caracas between 2003 and 2007 with more recent material that keeps the genre’s pulse alive today. Recognized as a foundational figure in the creation of raptor house, Babatr shaped a style defined by its fusion of Afro-Venezuelan percussion, tribal techno, acid, Eurodance, and the street-level intensity of Caracas working-class neighborhoods. His tracks spread organically through minitecas, bootleg CDs, and street parties, becoming part of the shared sonic vocabulary of a generation.

These tracks were born within the vibrant miniteca scene of early-2000s Venezuela. Known locally as changa, this was the catch-all term for the electronic dance music, house, techno, Eurodance, that powered matinées and street parties. From that ecosystem, raptor house emerged as its own distinct identity, marked by galloping rhythms, serrated synths, and hypnotic structures designed to energize and empower. Opening with 2024’s “1 2 3 4 Ladies on the Floor”, the album delivers a relentless floor-filler that fuses technoid drive with Venezuelan percussive textures, a contemporary statement of Babatr’s ability to refract global sounds through his own lens. It then moves back to 2003 with “The Tech Sounds”, where trance-like synths spiral around tough, wooden drum patterns in a track as raw and defiant as the dance floors it was built for.

These are not just tracks. They are sound documents of space, community, and survival, a genre built for collective release and celebration, echoing from the barrios of Caracas to sound systems worldwide. More recent cuts like “Let’s Do It” layer classic TR-909 kicks and echoing vocal stabs with synth work that nods to foundational techno. “You I Wanna Bass” (2005) reimagines 90s Euro club leads with a Caracas edge. “Call Space” channels the mysticism of pre-Hispanic flutes into shrill, trance-infused riffs, pulling the listener into its own sonic ritual.

Root Echoes is an intimate and deliberate selection from over 700 tracks Babatr has recorded across two decades. It captures the heartbeat of a movement that never stopped, music that traveled hand to hand, through bootleg CDs, online sharing, and word of mouth—ultimately finding its way into the sets, remixes, and samples of DJs around the world, resonating across global club networks.

In English, the Xhosa word “useza” means to arouse or elicit a feeling, and it perfectly illuminates Sekuru Chaka Chawasarira’s lifelong practice. The eminent Zimbabwean artist and educator is among the last remaining masters of the matepe, a large mbira-style instrument that’s played with both thumbs and index fingers to expand its rhythmelodic complexity. And on ‘Useza’, he fully demonstrates the matepe’s illusory potential, overdubbing hypnotic sequences to provoke shifting harmonic progressions that ethnomusicologist Andrew Tracey labeled “kaleidophony” back in 1970. An ancient art within North-Eastern Zimbabwe’s Shona culture, the matepe is traditionally used in local rituals, where its ambiguous psychoacoustic mirages evoke trance states to aid communication with ancestral spirits. Only half a century ago, ceremonies amongst the Sena Tonga and Kore-Kore peoples would involve up to six musicians, each playing interlocking polyrhythmic sequences. In 2025, the music is threatened with extinction; following decades of vilification from Zimbabwe’s evangelical and pentecostal churches, who associate the rituals with witchcraft, there are fewer than ten master musicians left.

Called the “Mozart of mbira” by composer Keith Goddard, 83-year-old Chawasarira has been developing his relationship with the instrument since he was just a young man. He grew up in a Catholic mission and was dedicated to the church, founding his own choir, but he maintained his connection to Zimbabwean culture by studying the region’s traditional rhythms. Chawasarira’s father had been a prominent drummer, and when Chawasarira was older, working as a teacher at the mission school, he ventured out to observe local mbira ensembles, eventually participating regularly in spirit ceremonies. And although there were tensions between Chawasarira’s work with the church and his interest in controversial folk music, he managed to strike a precarious balance, introducing drums to his Catholic services in the 1960s and even composing a mass for karimba. Chawasarira’s reputation grew steadily; he was invited to Lousville University in the 1990s to represent Zimbabwe at a contemporary composition festival, and his youth ensembles helped popularize Shona mbira traditions not just at home, but around the world.

Today’s evangelical Christians are less tolerant than the Catholic church however, with fundamentalist preachers blaming mbira music for all manner of tragedy. Chawasarira remains undeterred; living in Chitungwiza, he builds matepes and karimbas and tutors children, and ‘Useza’ is a celebration of his years of experience, a way for the maestro to preserve his repertoire for future generations. Recorded at the dead of night while the rest of the township is sound asleep, the album reproduces the mesmerizing sound of a Shona ritual by overlaying discrete fractal sequences filled with haunting overtones and buzzing rhythms. Chitungwiza works alone, harmonizing with himself and chanting over the weightless polyrhythms to create musical illusions that sound different depending on where the listener might be positioned. It’s a technique that’s been approached by various minimalist composers and avant-garde explorers in the 20th century and beyond, and Chitungwiza goes straight to the source, skillfully substantiating kaleidophony and safeguarding Zimbabwe’s heritage.

Heavy, heavy, heavyyyyy rhythmic madness from Shackleton, Scotch Rolex and Omutaba, invoking new rhythmic traditions on an enchanted debut album for Nyege Nyege Tapes, twisting galvanic rhythms from HHY & The Kampala Unit's Omutaba into sozzled, psychedelic peregrinations. Dubby, kinetic and viciously mind-bending, it's peak gear if you're into anything from African Head Charge to Mark Ernestus' Ndagga Rhythm Force.

Leading on from Shackleton and Scotch Rolex’s maiden merger, ‘Death by Tickling’ in 2023, the duo pull in the dextrous limbs of Omutaba - known from his work with STILL, Metal Preyers and HHY & The Kampala Unit - for a dervishing session of dubbed-out and tumbling polyrhythms and psychoactive vibes as Three Hands of Doom. Shackleton’s hand on the tiller is patently apparent but, as with his recent works with Heather Leigh and Wacław Zimpel, he proves a mutable collaborator and porous to the shared spirits of fellow electronic music journeymen Scotch Rolex and Uganda’s Omutaba in four swingeing sections defined by their joint ability to diffract the flow between rolling and irregular grooves.

‘Ring Dirt’ opens the session with a limber display of monotone strings and suspenseful synth work that calls to mind Can sent economy class to the equator for ritual teachings. Enlightened, they proceed thru the lush, whorling metric calculations of ‘Insect Vibration’, layering shivering incantations and worm-charming subs with a frisson of field recordings. At this point fully attuned to each other, Omutaba’s Ugandan drumming is felt most powerfully meshed into the 10 minute matrix of rug-pulling and thunderous detonations to ‘Burnt Earth’, before they all buckle into the outright dread of a standout eponymous title tune that appears to follow rhythms from the Congo thru West Africa, to Haiti, via Japan and Berlin, and back to Uganda.

Both Shackleton and Ishihara have been on blistering form in the last couple of years, and 'Three Hands of Doom' feels like both a continuation and an extension of last year's 'Death By Tickling', weaponizing Omutaba's exhilarating playing into something that feels much, much more than the sum of its parts.

Khadim is a stunning reconfiguration of the Ndagga Rhythm Force sound. The instrumentation is radically pared down. The guitar is gone; the concatenation of sabars; the drum-kit. Each of the four tracks hones in on just one or two drummers; otherwise the sole recorded element is the singing; everything else is programmed. Synths are dialogically locked into the drumming. Tellingly, Ernestus has reached for his beloved Prophet-5, a signature go-to since Basic Channel days, thirty years ago. Texturally, the sound is more dubwise; prickling with effects. There is a new spaciousness, announced at the start by the ambient sounds of Dakar street-life. At the microphone, Mbene Diatta Seck revels in this new openness: mbalax diva, she feelingly turns each of the four songs into a discrete dramatic episode, using different sets of rhetorical techniques. The music throughout is taut, grooving, complex, like before; but more volatile, intuitive and reaching, with turbulent emotional and spiritual expressivity.

Not that Khadim represents any kind of break. Its transformativeness is rooted in the hundreds upon hundreds of hours the Rhythm Force has played together. Nearly a decade has passed since Yermande, the unit’s previous album. Every year throughout that period — barring lockdowns — the group has toured extensively, in Europe, the US, and Japan. With improvisation at the core of its music-making, each performance has been evolutionary, as it turns out heading towards Khadim. “I didn’t want to simply continue with the same formula, says Ernestus. “I preferred to wait for a new approach. Playing live so many times, I wanted to capture some of the energy and freedom of those performances.” Though several members of the touring ensemble sit out this recording — sabar drummers, kit-drummer, synth-player — their presence abides in the structure and swing of the music here.

Lamp Fall is a homage to Cheikh Ibra Fall, founder of the Baye Fall spiritual community. The mosque in the city of Touba is known as Lamp Fall, because the main tower resembles a lantern. Soy duggu Touba, moom guey séen / When you enter Touba, he is the one who greets you. After a swift, incantatory start Mbene sings with reflective seriousness. Her voice swirls with reverb, over a tight, funky, propulsive interplay between synth and drums, threaded with one- two jabs of bass. Cheikh Ibra Fall mi may way, mo diayndiou ré, la mu jëndé ko taalibe… Cheikh Ibra Fall amo morome, aboridial / Cheikh Ibra Fall shows the way forward, he gives us strength, he gathers his disciples… Overflowing with grace, Cheikh Ibra Fall has no equal.

Interwoven with Wolof proverbs, Dieuw Bakhul is a recriminatory song about treachery, lies, and back-biting. Over moody, roiling synths and ominous, lean bass, Mbene throws out fluttering scraps of vocal, as if re-running old conversations in her head. The music shadows her despair to the verge of breakdown, at one moment seemingly so lost in thought and memories, that it threatens to disintegrate. Bayilene di wor seen xarit ak seen an da ndo… Dieuw bakhul, dieuw ñaw na / Stop judging your friends and companions… A lie is no good, a lie is ugly.

Khadim is a show-stopper; currently the centrepiece of Ndagga Rhythm Force live performances. The song is dedicated to Cheikh Ahmadou Bamba, aka Khadim, founder of the Mouride Sufi order. Serigne Bamba mi may wayeu / Serigne Bamba is the one who makes me sing. The verses name-check revered members of his family and brotherhood, like Sokhna Diarra, Mame Thierno, and Serigne Bara. Though Islam has been practised in Senegal for a millennium, it wasn’t until the start of the twentieth century that it began to thoroughly permeate ordinary Senegalese society, hand-in-hand with anti-colonialism. The verses here recall Bamba’s banishment by the French to Gabon, and later to Mauritania, in those foundational times. During exile, his captors once introduced a lion to his cell: gaïnde gua waf, dieba lu ci Cheikhoul Khadim / the lion doesn’t budge, it gives itself over to Cheikh Khadim. Deep, surging bass, steady kick-drum, and simple, reverbed chords on the off-beat lend the feel and impetus of steppers reggae. A reed plays snatches of a traditional Baye Fall melody; the dazzling polyrhythmic drumming is by Serigne Mamoune Seck. Mbene compellingly blends percussive vocalese, narrative suspense, exultant praise, introspection, and grievance.

Nimzat is a devotional tribute to Cheikh Sadbou, a contemporary of Bamba, buried in a mausoleum in Nizmat, in southern Mauritania. Way nala, kagne nala… souma danana fata dale / I call upon you and wonder about you… If I am overwhelmed, come to my aid. The town holds special significance for Khadr Sufism. An annual pilgrimage there is conducted to this day. The rhythm is buoyantly funky; the mood is sombre, reined-in, foreboding. Punctuated by peals of thunder, Mbene sings with restrained, intense reverence; huskily confidential, steadfast. Nanu dem ba Nimzat, dé ba sali khina / Let us go to Nimzat, to seal our devotion.

Khadim is a stunning reconfiguration of the Ndagga Rhythm Force sound. The instrumentation is radically pared down. The guitar is gone; the concatenation of sabars; the drum-kit. Each of the four tracks hones in on just one or two drummers; otherwise the sole recorded element is the singing; everything else is programmed. Synths are dialogically locked into the drumming. Tellingly, Ernestus has reached for his beloved Prophet-5, a signature go-to since Basic Channel days, thirty years ago. Texturally, the sound is more dubwise; prickling with effects. There is a new spaciousness, announced at the start by the ambient sounds of Dakar street-life. At the microphone, Mbene Diatta Seck revels in this new openness: mbalax diva, she feelingly turns each of the four songs into a discrete dramatic episode, using different sets of rhetorical techniques. The music throughout is taut, grooving, complex, like before; but more volatile, intuitive and reaching, with turbulent emotional and spiritual expressivity.

Not that Khadim represents any kind of break. Its transformativeness is rooted in the hundreds upon hundreds of hours the Rhythm Force has played together. Nearly a decade has passed since Yermande, the unit’s previous album. Every year throughout that period — barring lockdowns — the group has toured extensively, in Europe, the US, and Japan. With improvisation at the core of its music-making, each performance has been evolutionary, as it turns out heading towards Khadim. “I didn’t want to simply continue with the same formula, says Ernestus. “I preferred to wait for a new approach. Playing live so many times, I wanted to capture some of the energy and freedom of those performances.” Though several members of the touring ensemble sit out this recording — sabar drummers, kit-drummer, synth-player — their presence abides in the structure and swing of the music here.

Lamp Fall is a homage to Cheikh Ibra Fall, founder of the Baye Fall spiritual community. The mosque in the city of Touba is known as Lamp Fall, because the main tower resembles a lantern. Soy duggu Touba, moom guey séen / When you enter Touba, he is the one who greets you. After a swift, incantatory start Mbene sings with reflective seriousness. Her voice swirls with reverb, over a tight, funky, propulsive interplay between synth and drums, threaded with one- two jabs of bass. Cheikh Ibra Fall mi may way, mo diayndiou ré, la mu jëndé ko taalibe… Cheikh Ibra Fall amo morome, aboridial / Cheikh Ibra Fall shows the way forward, he gives us strength, he gathers his disciples… Overflowing with grace, Cheikh Ibra Fall has no equal.

Interwoven with Wolof proverbs, Dieuw Bakhul is a recriminatory song about treachery, lies, and back-biting. Over moody, roiling synths and ominous, lean bass, Mbene throws out fluttering scraps of vocal, as if re-running old conversations in her head. The music shadows her despair to the verge of breakdown, at one moment seemingly so lost in thought and memories, that it threatens to disintegrate. Bayilene di wor seen xarit ak seen an da ndo… Dieuw bakhul, dieuw ñaw na / Stop judging your friends and companions… A lie is no good, a lie is ugly.

Khadim is a show-stopper; currently the centrepiece of Ndagga Rhythm Force live performances. The song is dedicated to Cheikh Ahmadou Bamba, aka Khadim, founder of the Mouride Sufi order. Serigne Bamba mi may wayeu / Serigne Bamba is the one who makes me sing. The verses name-check revered members of his family and brotherhood, like Sokhna Diarra, Mame Thierno, and Serigne Bara. Though Islam has been practised in Senegal for a millennium, it wasn’t until the start of the twentieth century that it began to thoroughly permeate ordinary Senegalese society, hand-in-hand with anti-colonialism. The verses here recall Bamba’s banishment by the French to Gabon, and later to Mauritania, in those foundational times. During exile, his captors once introduced a lion to his cell: gaïnde gua waf, dieba lu ci Cheikhoul Khadim / the lion doesn’t budge, it gives itself over to Cheikh Khadim. Deep, surging bass, steady kick-drum, and simple, reverbed chords on the off-beat lend the feel and impetus of steppers reggae. A reed plays snatches of a traditional Baye Fall melody; the dazzling polyrhythmic drumming is by Serigne Mamoune Seck. Mbene compellingly blends percussive vocalese, narrative suspense, exultant praise, introspection, and grievance.

Nimzat is a devotional tribute to Cheikh Sadbou, a contemporary of Bamba, buried in a mausoleum in Nizmat, in southern Mauritania. Way nala, kagne nala… souma danana fata dale / I call upon you and wonder about you… If I am overwhelmed, come to my aid. The town holds special significance for Khadr Sufism. An annual pilgrimage there is conducted to this day. The rhythm is buoyantly funky; the mood is sombre, reined-in, foreboding. Punctuated by peals of thunder, Mbene sings with restrained, intense reverence; huskily confidential, steadfast. Nanu dem ba Nimzat, dé ba sali khina / Let us go to Nimzat, to seal our devotion.

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.

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.

A very welcomed reissue for this rare Jackie Mittoo album, originally released in 1979 on unknown label, Rite Sound inc. The original release was sold without a jacket, adding a mysterious vibe to the whole thing. The dubby effects-intensive sound of the album extends from "Russian Satelite" to the whole side A, with "Harder Than The Rest," "Stepping Tiger," and "World Of Love" being an excellent triptych of note. The thrill of Jackie's crazy keyboards intertwining with the floating dub sound like a heavenly space is beyond description. Space is the place.

A historic meeting point between Ethio-jazz and ambient jazz. Born out of Bristol’s Bloom collective, the eight-piece Afro-jazz band Tezeta sees their 2016 debut album Seventh Place finally issued on vinyl via KLANG TONE RECORDS. Exotic Fender Rhodes lines recalling Hailu Mergia, the psychedelic shimmer of vibraphone and marimba, fiercely jazzy saxophone, and the driving force of contemporary Afrobeat converge into a sound that is both refined and full of fire. The 6/8 rhythms radiate the spirit of Ethio-jazz, while the group’s modern sense of crossover resonates with European ensembles such as Debre Damo Dining Orchestra and Langendorf United. A meditative Afro-jazz gem, and one to recommend also to fans of ambient jazz.

1971 REVOLUTIONARY SPIRITUAL AFRO JAZZ FROM EXILE Matsuli Music presents soul, spirituality and avant-garde jazz from South African political exile Ndikho Xaba. Its rarity has until now served to obscure both its beauty and its historical significance. Making profound links between the struggle against apartheid and the Black Power movement in the USA Ndikho Xaba and the Natives is arguably the most complete and complex South African jazz LP recorded in the USA. It stands out as a critical document in the history of transatlantic black solidarity and in the jazz culture of South African exiles. This reissue from Matsuli Music brings this collectors’ treasure back into print for the first time since 1971. Ndikho Xaba and the Natives opens a fluid channel of sonic energy that courses between two liberation struggles and two jazz traditions, making them one. It is a critical statement in the history of transatlantic black solidarity, unifying voices stretching from San Francisco to Johannesburg. There is no other recording or group in which the new jazz spirituality of the late 1960s is so fully blent with an African jazz tradition. The limited edition vinyl edition is presented with re-mastered sound in a gatefold sleeve containing unseen photographs and concert bills from Ndikho Xaba’s personal archive together with a personal recollection from Plunky Branch and extensive sleeve-notes written by Francis Gooding. The CD version reproduces this new content in a 24 page booklet as well including two additional tracks taken from a hard to find single released by Ndikho Xaba’s band African Echoes.

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. 

Ghanaian hiplife phenom Yaw Atta-Owusu presents charming results of his first studio session since 1994’s sleeper hit ‘Obaa Sima’, which found an overdue, cult audience via the blogosphere as one of Awesome Tapes From Africa’s earliest and greatest drops in 2015. If you weren’t snagged on the ohrwurming keys, vox, and groove of the title tune to Ata Kak’s ‘Obaa Sima’ in 2015, you probably weren’t going to the right clubs and checking the right sites. 10 years later it still kills and is set to be joined by this fresh haul from the Bishop Beatz recording studio in Kumasi, Ghana, where Ata Kak laid down ‘Batakari’, his 1st recordings in three decades, recapturing the moxie of his original sound on six cuts that betray time and space travelled within more ambitious arrangements of signature fast chat factored by layered harmonies and rhythmic variegation. “Honed in studios around Kumasi over the last several years, the songs feature the rapper-singer’s acrobatic rap, signature scatting, dramatic drums and even traditional Akan harp. The compositions are more ambitious than his earlier work, with more complex arrangements and layered harmonies. Ata Kak’s new songs are also the natural expression of a restless artist—he is a prolific poet and author of a half-dozen books, as well as an active gardener and busy painter. Born in Ghana in 1960, Ata Kak wasn’t always involved in music. But his travels and openness to the world lead him into the music industry. While living in Germany, he was invited to play drums in a reggae band and subsequently played in highlife bands in Ontario after moving to the Toronto area. He recorded “Obaa Sima” there at his home studio and released it in Ghana in 1994. He didn’t participate in music much in the intervening years until “Obaa Sima” was reissued in 2015. He started performing his song live with the help of a brilliant cast of London-based musicians and has toured three continents and played to thousands of fans in venues of all kinds.”

Planet Ilunga presents, in collaboration with the children of Nico Kasanda alias Docteur Nico, an anthology dedicated to African Fiesta Sukisa, available as a 3LP and a digital release (with bonus songs). This release is the fruit of many years of preparations and was realized in close partnership with Liliane Kasanda, Nico’s eldest daughter. Marking forty years since his passing, we felt that the year 2025 was the right time to honor Docteur Nico’s legacy with this original collection.

Almost all of the African Fiesta Sukisa songs were released on Nico’s Sukisa label which translates in Lingala for “the final accomplishment”. The music on Sukisa, crafted by Nico, Dechaud and legendary vocalists such as Chantal, Sangana, Apôtre, Lessa Lassan and Josky, embodies the essence of that powerful phrase with genius and class. The label ran between 1966 and 1975 and released approximately 280 songs. Ngoma also issued the group between 1967 and 1971 and, in addition, reissued material from the Sukisa label. Many of the Sukisa songs have become part of the collective memory of Congolese society and are still heard, discussed, and analyzed daily across digital platforms worldwide, as well as on numerous Congolese radio and television stations.

The album we put together features some of African Fiesta Sukisa’s signature songs alongside never before reissued tracks from the Sukisa catalog. It furthermore contains a large booklet with song commentary, testimonial interviews from well-known musicians, journalists, fans and Nico’s entourage, besides never-before-published photos from the family’s personal archive, illustrating the life and career of the one and only ‘dieu de la guitare’.

Alastair Johnston, author of the book ‘A Discography of Docteur Nico’ and longstanding Planet Ilunga collaborator, designed a stylish booklet and cover using all our collected material. Audifax Bemba, longtime admirer, compiler and connoisseur of Nico’s music, and the author of most of the song commentary in our accompanying and very visual booklet, offers his portrait of Nico Kasanda:

“After displaying technical virtuosity with African Jazz, expert and accomplished guitar with African Fiesta, which musicologist Sylvain Bemba described as a dream guitar, Nico Kasanda was consecrated ‘dieu de la guitare’ by the public in the late sixties. With his band African Fiesta Sukisa, Docteur Nico displays his wide palette of unusual sounds. While exploring the Hawaiian guitar with its clear, airy, plangent, psychedelic effluvia, he continues to replicate the piano comping technique, and adds two missing strings to his bow: a simulation of the sanza (likembé or thumb piano), whose sounds he reproduces right down to the noisemakers of the tiny tin rings on the one hand, and the sounds of the Luba balafon on the other.

The right note, in the right place, at the right time, is the triptych on which Nico Kasanda’s playing is based, a note dressed in the perfect sound. A guitar of pure emotion. With African Fiesta Sukisa, his playing takes a ‘Chopin-esque’ turn, sending out more notes in a sublime adagio. The true artist is the one who simplifies everything. Docteur Nico is a genius of our time, whose style makes him the supreme exponent of the most important guitar school in Congolese music. He is recognized by his peers as the greatest African solo guitarist of all time. Sculpting sound in a tireless quest for beauty, Nico Kasanda has sublimated the guitar throughout his career.”

The evolution of Congolese popular music in the 1960s and 70s is generally classified into two major schools: African Jazz & OK Jazz. The main representatives of those schools are Joseph Kabasele alias Grand Kallé, founder of African Jazz, and Franco Luambo, co-founder of O.K. Jazz. Two temperaments and ambiances, one commonly referred to as ‘fiesta’, the other as ‘odemba’, both seeking their own sublimity or ideal.

For the very first time, a compilation brings together explicitly the main protagonists of the two bands on the same album, with a collection of their songs recorded in the early sixties for the Surboum African Jazz label, in addition to three tracks made by Kallé’s bands in the late sixties.

The heirs of Joseph Kabasele and Franco Luambo kindly gave permission in Kinshasa to release this original selection on Planet Ilunga about these virtuosi of Congolese Rumba on Planet Ilunga.

"Indépendance Cha Cha” was an historic song, not only because it immortalized Congo’s independence in its lyrics, but also because it was the first single published by a Congolese-owned record label. Joseph Kabasele’s label Surboum African Jazz indeed paved the way for several Congolese musicians to become record publishers. It resulted in the 1960s in a plethora of newly found Kinshasa-based record labels, run by the biggest musicians of the time.

With this new series “Les éditeurs congolais”, Planet Ilunga aims to honour and highlight the phonographic and entrepreneurial work of those first Congolese record label bosses. We kick off with a compilation of one of the most significant labels, Les Editions Populaires. This label, founded by Franco Luambo Makiadi in 1968 after he first co-founded with Vicky Longomba the labels Epanza Makita (+/- 117 singles) and Boma Bango (+/- 50 singles) and after starting his first short-lived label Likembe (+/- 5 singles), ran until 1982 and was mostly dedicated to the output of OK Jazz (later TPOK Jazz).

This compilation brings together an original selection of 16 tracks from the first three years of Les Editions Populaires. They are a showcase of the sound Franco had envisioned for his band. The focus was less on cha-cha-cha and Spanish lyrics, but on lingering rumba and bolero ballads in Lingala, tradition-rooted songs in Kikongo, Kimongo and even Yoruba, collaborations with Ngoma artists Camille Feruzi and Manuel d’Oliveira and not to forget solid pastiches of American funk, which were showing that the OK Jazz musicians had an open-minded view on music and were capable of excelling in many genres. Mama Na Ngai indeed!

Planet Ilunga, the Brussels-based publisher has, since 2013, produced a series of recordings dedicated to the history of Congolese popular music from artists like Franco & OK Jazz, Docteur Nico, Orchestre Rock-a-Mambo and Joseph Kabasele & African Jazz. For its tenth release and in celebration of its tenth anniversary, the label launches with "The Soul of Congo" its most ambitious project to date: a well-documented and extensive anthology (on 3LP + 3CD) about the illustrious and legendary Congolese music label Ngoma.

The Soul of Congo is a compilation that spans the years from 1948 to 1963 as the Belgian Congo emerged from colonial subjugation into the first flower of Independence. Singers and players came to Congo’s capital Léopoldville, from all over Central Africa — from the streets of Brazzaville on the opposite shore of the Congo river to the vast plateau of Mbanza Congo in Angola, from the mineral rich areas of Lubumbashi (Elizabethville) in the Deep South to the lively docks of Kisangani (Stanleyville) in the northeast, from the rocky wastes of Mbandaka (Coquilhatville) in the West to the majestic forests of Bukavu (Costermansville) in the East.

Léopoldville became a cauldron of musical syncretism between the African rhythms that arrived with these musicians and the European, Caribbean and Cuban tunes that were popular in the big city. The new sounds were recorded for one of the big five Congo labels: Opika, Loningisa, Esengo, Olympia or Ngoma. None of the other Congolese labels better showcased the energy, variety & spirit of this era than the Ngoma label. The label was founded by the Greek Nicolas Jéronimidis in 1948. After his early death in 1951, it was further developed by Nikis Cavvadias and Alexandros Jéronimidis. During its existence, from 1948 until 1971, Ngoma made over 4500 recordings, creating a crucial cultural legacy. Now with Unesco declaring Congolese Rumba as an intangible cultural heritage of humanity as of December 2021, it is fitting they are restored to the ears of the world.

As the Ngoma label flourished, so too did the first big stars of this new sound: Manuel d’Oliveira from San Salvador, Antoine Kolosoy “Wendo’’ from Bandundu and Léon Bukasa from Katanga. The three of them are heavily featured in the Ngoma catalogue and in this compilation. Ngoma also provided a way for female singers, such as Martha Badibala, to rise to fame and inspire other women to dream of a life beyond taking care of the kids and husband. Futhermore, the label was keen to record traditional folkloric music, such as the songs by likembe player Antoine Mundanda. It also looked for fresh talent as far away as Brussels where they recorded Camerounian heartthrob Charles Lembe fronting a fierce quartet on some flashy adapted Cuban Guaracha rhythms. Instrumentalists like Antoine Kasongo (clarinet), Albino Kalombo (sax) and Tino Baroza (guitar) also made their mark through the Ngoma recordings.

Ngoma is also known for releasing Adou Elenga’s hit “Ata Ndele,” that criticized the white colonists. It led to his imprisonment and the song being quickly deleted from the catalogue after its release in 1954 (long sought after, a rare original copy has been found for this compilation). Angolan Paul Mwanga, too, was unstinting in his criticism of the colonials, and he was also active with authors’ rights associations. Frank Lassan was a singer who brought the romantic style of French crooners to Congolese popular culture, while guitar wizard Manoka De Saïo or “Maitre Colon Gentil” were flamboyant popular figures in the nightclub scene, captured on disc. Guitar prodigies like Antoine Nedule “Papa Noel” or Mose Se Sengo “Fan Fan” cut their teeth as teenagers in studio bands. The band names changed rapidly — Beguen Band, Jazz Mango, Jazz Venus, Dynamic Jazz, Affeinta Jazz, Mysterieux Jazz, Orchestre Novelty, Rumbanella Bande, Vedette Jazz, La Palma, Negrita Jazz — all of them are heard here.

Dedicated record collectors came together to make this compilation possible. From the USA, Belgium, Japan, France, Morocco and The Netherlands, these generous fans of the music have pooled their collections for the compilation, assembled and annotated by Alastair Johnston who runs the Muzikifan website from California. He dedicates this release to Flemming Harrev from the reference website afrodisc.com who passed away in 2020. Legendary but unheard songs were tracked down, some emerging from dead stock in a forgotten Tanzanian record store. Experts who have made previous compilations were solicited for their advice and recommendations; liner notes, graduate theses, African periodicals, blogs and documents by authorities such as Jean-Pierre Nimy Nzonga, Sylvain Konko, Gary Stewart, Manda Tchebwa, and Michel Lonoh were scoured for clues.

There are 69 songs on the 3CD set and 42 on the 3LP set. Two of the LPs are distilled from the 3CD set, while the third “bonus” LP" has a different selection of songs by Léon Bukasa and others. While this is unusual, we felt there was so much great material, the vinyl collectors would enjoy an extra album of out-takes from the shortlist that was originally over four hours in length.

Planet Ilunga, the Brussels-based publisher has, since 2013, produced a series of recordings dedicated to the history of Congolese popular music from artists like Franco & OK Jazz, Docteur Nico, Orchestre Rock-a-Mambo and Joseph Kabasele & African Jazz. For its tenth release and in celebration of its tenth anniversary, the label launches with "The Soul of Congo" its most ambitious project to date: a well-documented and extensive anthology (on 3LP + 3CD) about the illustrious and legendary Congolese music label Ngoma.

The Soul of Congo is a compilation that spans the years from 1948 to 1963 as the Belgian Congo emerged from colonial subjugation into the first flower of Independence. Singers and players came to Congo’s capital Léopoldville, from all over Central Africa — from the streets of Brazzaville on the opposite shore of the Congo river to the vast plateau of Mbanza Congo in Angola, from the mineral rich areas of Lubumbashi (Elizabethville) in the Deep South to the lively docks of Kisangani (Stanleyville) in the northeast, from the rocky wastes of Mbandaka (Coquilhatville) in the West to the majestic forests of Bukavu (Costermansville) in the East.

Léopoldville became a cauldron of musical syncretism between the African rhythms that arrived with these musicians and the European, Caribbean and Cuban tunes that were popular in the big city. The new sounds were recorded for one of the big five Congo labels: Opika, Loningisa, Esengo, Olympia or Ngoma. None of the other Congolese labels better showcased the energy, variety & spirit of this era than the Ngoma label. The label was founded by the Greek Nicolas Jéronimidis in 1948. After his early death in 1951, it was further developed by Nikis Cavvadias and Alexandros Jéronimidis. During its existence, from 1948 until 1971, Ngoma made over 4500 recordings, creating a crucial cultural legacy. Now with Unesco declaring Congolese Rumba as an intangible cultural heritage of humanity as of December 2021, it is fitting they are restored to the ears of the world.

As the Ngoma label flourished, so too did the first big stars of this new sound: Manuel d’Oliveira from San Salvador, Antoine Kolosoy “Wendo’’ from Bandundu and Léon Bukasa from Katanga. The three of them are heavily featured in the Ngoma catalogue and in this compilation. Ngoma also provided a way for female singers, such as Martha Badibala, to rise to fame and inspire other women to dream of a life beyond taking care of the kids and husband. Futhermore, the label was keen to record traditional folkloric music, such as the songs by likembe player Antoine Mundanda. It also looked for fresh talent as far away as Brussels where they recorded Camerounian heartthrob Charles Lembe fronting a fierce quartet on some flashy adapted Cuban Guaracha rhythms. Instrumentalists like Antoine Kasongo (clarinet), Albino Kalombo (sax) and Tino Baroza (guitar) also made their mark through the Ngoma recordings.

Ngoma is also known for releasing Adou Elenga’s hit “Ata Ndele,” that criticized the white colonists. It led to his imprisonment and the song being quickly deleted from the catalogue after its release in 1954 (long sought after, a rare original copy has been found for this compilation). Angolan Paul Mwanga, too, was unstinting in his criticism of the colonials, and he was also active with authors’ rights associations. Frank Lassan was a singer who brought the romantic style of French crooners to Congolese popular culture, while guitar wizard Manoka De Saïo or “Maitre Colon Gentil” were flamboyant popular figures in the nightclub scene, captured on disc. Guitar prodigies like Antoine Nedule “Papa Noel” or Mose Se Sengo “Fan Fan” cut their teeth as teenagers in studio bands. The band names changed rapidly — Beguen Band, Jazz Mango, Jazz Venus, Dynamic Jazz, Affeinta Jazz, Mysterieux Jazz, Orchestre Novelty, Rumbanella Bande, Vedette Jazz, La Palma, Negrita Jazz — all of them are heard here.

Dedicated record collectors came together to make this compilation possible. From the USA, Belgium, Japan, France, Morocco and The Netherlands, these generous fans of the music have pooled their collections for the compilation, assembled and annotated by Alastair Johnston who runs the Muzikifan website from California. He dedicates this release to Flemming Harrev from the reference website afrodisc.com who passed away in 2020. Legendary but unheard songs were tracked down, some emerging from dead stock in a forgotten Tanzanian record store. Experts who have made previous compilations were solicited for their advice and recommendations; liner notes, graduate theses, African periodicals, blogs and documents by authorities such as Jean-Pierre Nimy Nzonga, Sylvain Konko, Gary Stewart, Manda Tchebwa, and Michel Lonoh were scoured for clues.

There are 69 songs on the 3CD set and 42 on the 3LP set. Two of the LPs are distilled from the 3CD set, while the third “bonus” LP" has a different selection of songs by Léon Bukasa and others. While this is unusual, we felt there was so much great material, the vinyl collectors would enjoy an extra album of out-takes from the shortlist that was originally over four hours in length.

Planet Ilunga continues its mission to uncover and highlight the overlooked yet epic achievements in the world of Congolese rumba. This time to tell the most spectacular story of all. This is the story of the creation of Surboum African Jazz, the first Congolese music label founded by a Congolese.

Surboum African Jazz was owned and managed by the best singer of all time, Joseph Kabasele, alias Grand Kallé. The label's catalog during the period 1960–63 is largely dominated by Grand Kallé’s band African Jazz in its various formations. The band, which could rely in 1961 and 1962 on a real dream team of musicians (Docteur Nico, Dechaud, Rochereau, Manu Dibango, Roger Izeidi and Mujos among others), released in this period at least 212 songs. The second largest source of music for the label is Franco’s band O.K. Jazz with at least 136 released songs. Next, with at least 34 released songs comes Manu Dibango with his different formations. These were the first ever published songs of the late Manu Dibango. For this compilation we chose an original selection of songs recorded by African Jazz in 1961 and 1962. We also included a few songs of Dibango’s bands in the final selection, in order to showcase the diversity and universal philosophy of Grand Kallé’s label.

This adventurous music which was recorded in Brussels (Belgium) in the months and years after Congo’s independence is nothing less than post-colonial glory wrapped around popular music. It’s a collection of proud name-dropping songs, political and patriotic lyrics, euphoric declarations of love and explorations towards new and universal impulses and styles. The releases on Surboum African Jazz are for many Congolese the icing on the cake in the iconic history of Congolese rumba. They are a time capsule of the longing of Congolese society to be absorbed in the momentum of the nations. At the same time they are a testimonial of the musical excellence of the African Jazz musicians.

The vinyl edition of this first ever double LP anthology of Surboum African Jazz comes with a large, thoroughly researched and well-illustrated 32-page booklet telling the whole story of this label. Included in the book, among other content, is a text by Alan Brain (director of The Rumba Kings) with never before published information and photos about the epic Table Ronde tour of African Jazz in Belgium, France and The Netherlands in the winter and spring of 1960. This text is the fruit of a research Alan initiated, and then further developed in collaboration with the Congolese author and scholar Manda Tchebwa. Furthermore, you can find in the book a detailed documentation of the recording tours in Brussels in 1961 and 1962, besides a discography of the Surboum African Jazz label and many testimonials of the Congolese community about the first Congolese music label founded by a Congolese.