MUSIC

Double LP version with printed inner sleeve. Born Bad Records presents the music of Cameroonian musician Francis Bebey, circa 1982-1984. "The first time I saw a sanza (a type of African 'thumb piano'), it was just sitting there on a piece of furniture in my family's living room/dining room -- a space that our father also transformed into a recording studio every day. It seemed more like a box than a musical instrument: a mysterious instrument, which arrived at our house, like many things, in a somewhat miraculous way. The sounds it produced seemed particularly bizarre; to my young musician's ears, trained in Western classical music, it sounded out of tune. That's because, like my brothers and sisters, I had been trained on the piano. I had trouble understanding how anyone could endure these tones and, honestly, our father's passion for 'unusual sounds' did not interest me. I was in secondary school at the time (the very late 1970s) and was not at all oriented toward musical projects. I planned to graduate, and then become a chef. In the early 1980s, my interest in music picked up. I was still undecided about my career. I was content to pursue my 'serious' English studies while hanging out at jazz clubs at les Halles in Paris, where I sometimes joined jam sessions. Next, I put together my first band with professional musicians; I had hidden my age and lack of experience from them. France was just beginning to accept 'world music.' Musicians of every nationality were performing in Paris. It was a wonderful period. My father asked my brother Toups and me to accompany him for a few concerts. In particular, we toured Tunisia together at the time of the 1983 Carthage International Festival. Back then, my father was renowned across the French-speaking world. Everyone looked forward to hearing his humorous songs, like 'Agatha' and 'La condition masculine.' But, behind the scenes, he continued his research concerning electronic music, the sansa, pygmy polyphony, etc. One day he put a sansa in my hands, without saying a word. He was sending me a message: 'Let's see what you can do with it!' That's when I really discovered something. Exploring the instrument and playing, I transcended the 'imperfect' aspect of its sound and began to discover its fascinating potential. Playing the sansa, you enter a world that enraptures you in a very serene and mesmerizing way. I think its sounds evoke a rainbow, with rain falling while the sun shines. A very peaceful feeling. It allows you to make music that truly sounds like life. The sansa is also the instrument that my father and I shared the most because I am a pianist and he was a guitarist. I also share this eminently African instrument with my musician brother, Toups. Our father loved to tell us one of the legends of the sansa: how it even managed to dispel the boredom felt by... the Creator himself! This instrument gives life to the world, to beings and things. I did not participate in the production of the various records that my father devoted to the sansa. He did it himself, you might say, in his 'laboratory.' Yet today, I cannot imagine playing a concert without using a sansa. The piano remains present so that listeners don't become disoriented and wonder about the weird sounds invading their ears! However, I find the eccentric and disturbing side of sansa interesting. And the sansa always affects the audience: in reality, it excites them. The secrets of this instrument are surely its beneficial powers and... its magic!" --Patrick Bebey

Cameroonian musician Francis Bebey is truly one of a kind. He entered the music scene with his African compositions for classical guitar. He gave recitals while pursuing a career in journalism and then as an international civil servant. The same creative impulse also led him to write pop songs, and some of which (based on novels he had written) became big hits in Africa and in the French-speaking world. But few people know that in the ’70s, Francis Bebey delved into electronic music. The first electronic keyboards, organs and drum machines offered him new possibilities of totally controlling his compositions. He embraced the technique of “sound on sound” recording (recording several tracks, sequentially juxtaposed on the same tape). This new stage in his musical career included the production of several records (“Savannah Georgia,” “New Track”, “Haiti”), rarities both for their creative explorations as well as their manifestations on vinyl. This was a particularly rich period for him, as he tested the limitless possibilities of the medium, and made use of surprising and novel instruments. Incredible sounds – in the literal sense of the word – would soon appear on the planet Bebey…

Limited, fully licensed 180g vinyl-only reissue of ultra rare South African disco-jazz classic. Featuring tracks: Side A: Kabuzela; Bayabaleka; Side B: Disco Freaks; Disco Baby Available for the first time since its original South African release in 1979, Outernational Sounds presents tenor giant Mike Makhamalele’s monster excursion into funktified disco jazz, Kabuzela. Despite a peerless run of groundbreaking fusion and funk albums through the 1970s, the great South African tenorist Mike Makhamalele has remained somewhat unsung. It’s hard to know why – the music he made at the end of the 1970s is some of the finest jazz fusion made anywhere on the planet. This new edition of Kabuzela is the first time that any of his work has been issued outside of South Africa. Respect is long overdue. Born in Alexandra Township, Johannesburg, Makhalemele learned his craft at the knee of the great Zakes Nkosi, one of the originators of the township jazz sound. By the early 1970s he had joined South Africa’s most successful jazz funk outfit, Henry Sithole’s famous group The Drive, in which he played alongside the great Bheki Mseleku, and storied altoist Kaya Mahlangu. As jazz in South Africa turned toward dancefloor funk and fusion, Makhalemele become a fixture at Soweto’s most happening jazz and dance club, The Pelican – the owner, Lucky Michaels, remembered him as ‘one of the guys who’d walk around to every other musician he knows and say, “Listen, guys, why don’t we meet at the Pelican, let’s go and jam there...”’ From 1975, he began to record under his own name, developing a sophisticated fusion sound in a musical lane where few of his contemporaries were travelling. His stature at this time can be judged by the fact that he went head to head with the legendary Winston Mankunku on 1976’s The Bull And The Lion, an album that marked a symbolic passing of South Africa’s tenor torch. No other player was keeping such close tabs on the changes occurring in the US, and as slick fusion and advanced smooth became the leading sound for contemporary jazz, Makhalemele was in the vanguard, translating the new styles into South African idioms on LPs like Peaceful Eyes and Walking Spirit. The tenorist also carefully watched other global fashions in Black dance and pop music – working under numerous studio aliases, he cut 45rpm covers of big hits including Fela’s ‘Shakara’ and even the Sugar Hill Gang’s ‘Rapper’s Delight’. And in 1979, he entered the Gallo studios with producer Peter Ceronio to respond to the ascendant sound of disco. Kabuzela, named after a contemporary township dance craze, was the result: four extended tracks of bouncing, upful disco jazz. Perfectly calibrated for dancing, heavy on the bass and drums, the album is set off by a gleaming centre piece, ‘Disco Freaks’ – a joyous paean to the weekend and true lost gem of global disco, perfect for the most discerning dancefloors. Transferred from the master tapes by Gallo in South Africa, and mastered for release by D&M. Fully licensed from Gallo South Africa. Distributed by Honest Jons.

Esa's Aweh label is back with its second release, this time Esa with his Afro-Synth Band share their Brazilian & South African boogie influences on “Vem Comigo”. You might have caught the band over Summer 2022 at festivals including Lente Kabinet in Amsterdam, or The Jazz Cafe in London which featured special guest Steve Monite. This is a special collaboration with Brazilian singer & songwriter Diego Moraes from São Paulo, and Forest Law who’s also part of the Afro-Synth Band.

It’s a special, but also a strange sensation to be releasing an album of one of your early musical heroes. I first discovered The Movers on my very first “record safari” in 1996. My destination was Bulawayo, in southern Zimbabwe, and to get there I had to travel via Jo’burg. While in town I stopped at a store called Kohinoor, in search of Mbaqanga – also known as Township Jive – and found a few tapes which I listened to non-stop on the bus that carried me to the land of Chimurenga Music. One of these cassettes included the songs “Hot Coffee” and “Phukeng Special” which instantly became part of my daily life. Twenty-five years later I’m still grooving to them. What I didn't know at that time was that The Movers were hugely successful during the 1970s; so when it came time to release some of their music, I though it was going to be “a walk in the park” to track down information about them and write their biography. I was in for a rude awakening. Despite their legendary status, there was almost no information available on band or any of its members. Fortunately Nicky Blumenfeld from Kaya Radio came to the rescue. A few days after I reached out to her, she had managed to get the phone number of Kenneth Siphayi, who is considered to be the founder of the band, as well as vocalist Blondie Makhene and saxophonist Lulu Masilela. Although we left no stone unturned, we were unable to find any of the four original members who seem to have passed away in total anonymity. The story of The Movers began in 1967 when two unknown musicians – the brothers Norman and Oupa Hlongwane – approached Kenneth Siphayi a stylish and wealthy businessman from the Alexandra township to ask if he could buy them musical instruments. In return he would receive a cut from future life shows and record deals. Kenneth, ended up doing much more, becoming their manager, setting them up in a rehearsal space, and introducing them to an organist who would prove to be the missing link in the band’s skeletal sound. He also gave them their name: The Movers … because, as he said, their music was going to move you, whether you liked it or not. The band exploded onto the country’s racially-segregated music scene at the dawn of the 1970s with a sound that applied the rolling organ grooves and elastic rhythms of American soul to songs that came straight from the heart of the townships. Rumours of the band started to spread throughout the country and soon the record labels were sending their talent scouts to the Alexandra township to hear it for themselves. The Movers finally signed to Teal Records in 1969, and their first album, Crying Guitar, went on to sell 500,000 copies within the first three months, launching them into the front rank of South African bands. In their first year they went from local sensations to being the first band of black South Africans to have their music cross over to the country’s white radio stations. Although the first record was entirely instrumental, The Movers started working with different singers soon after – scoring an early hit with 14 year old vocal prodigy Blondie Makhene – and enriched their sonic palette with horns, extra percussion and various keyboards. Their stylistic range also expanded, incorporating elements of Marabi, Mbaqanga, jazz, funk, and reggae into their soul-steeped sound. But the essence of their music came from the almost telepathic connection of its founding members: the simmering organ of Sankie Chounyane, the laid-back guitar lines of Oupa Hlongwane, the energetic bass grooves of Norman Hlongwane and the simmering rhythms of drummer of Sam Thabo. The band reached their apex in the mid-1970s, and their hit ‘Soweto Inn’, sung by Sophie Thapedi, became inseparable from the student revolts that signalled a new resistance to the apartheid government. In 1976, however, their manager was forced out, and their producer started to play a more active role in the band’s direction. By the end of the decade there were no original members left. But at their height The Movers were titans of South African soul who left a legacy of over a dozen albums and countless singles of pure groove. On The Movers 1970–76, Analog Africa presents 14 of the finest tracks from the band’s undisputed peak.

The Chakachas were a Belgian based group of Latin soul studio musicians. Also known as Les Chakachas or Los Chakachas. They started out in the late 50s, recording a playful mixture of Latin music, jazz, and European-style exotica. This same titled album is a much sought after album amongst the connoisseurs.The song "Stories" on this album was featured on the soundtrack of the very popular game Grand Theft Auto V. This song was also covered by the band CAKE.Get your latin groove on.

In 2020, Sahel Sounds hosted a project called Music from Saharan WhatsApp. This series consisted of ephemeral digital EPs, documenting live performances by some of the most exciting acts in the Sahel playing music, including Nigerién techno, wedding rock, Woodabe guitar, WZN, traditional music, Mandingue music, and more. Responding to an open call from our network of artists, musicians recorded a handful of tracks on their cellphone and sent them over the popular mobile app WhatsApp. Each session was hosted for a month on Bandcamp and sold on a sliding scale, with all profits wired directly to the musicians. After a month, the EP would disappear, replaced by another one. Now, some of the label's favorite tracks from this series are collected for the first time outside of Bandcamp as the Music from Saharan WhatsApp compilation LP. This LP features tracks by established Sahel Sounds artists such as Etran de L'Aïr, Hama, Alkibar Jr, Amaria Hamadaler (of Les Filles de Illighadad), and artists new to the label like Bounaly and Andal Sukabe.

Today sees Belgian-Caribbean provocateur Charlotte Adigéry and her long-term musical partner, Bolis Pupul announce their debut album Topical Dancer, due for release on March 4 2022 via Soulwax’s iconic label DEEWEE. Cultural appropriation. Misogyny and racism. Social media vanity. Post-colonialism and political correctness. These are not talking points that you’d ordinarily hear on the dancefloor but Charlotte Adigéry and Bolis Pupul are ripping up the rulebook with their debut album Topical Dancer. The Ghent-based duo, who broke out with their 2019 Zandoli EP, are rare storytellers in electronic music: they take the temperature of the time and funnel them into their playful synth concoctions – never didactic and always with a knowing wink. Their debut studio record – which cements them as a duo under both their names for the first time and is co-written and co-produced by Soulwax – is both a triumph of kaleidoscopic electro-pop and “a snapshot of how we think about pop culture in the 2020s.” It captures Charlotte and Bolis’s essence as musical collaborators and the conversations they’ve had over the past two years on tour, as well as their perspectives as Belgians with an immigrant background, Charlotte with Guadeloupean and French-Martinique ancestry and Bolis being of Chinese descent. Beyond the album’s thematic heft, Topical Dancer reflects Charlotte and Bolis’s idiosyncratic sound: it’s thoughtful but it bangs. Their take on familiar genres is always off-kilter; songs sound undone or a little wonky; but these are nocturnal heaters to make the club throb. “We like to fuck things up a bit,” laughs Bolis. “We cringe when we feel like we're making something that already exists, so we're always looking for things to combine to make it sound not like a pop song, not like an R&B song, not a techno song. We’re always putting different worlds together. Charlotte and I get bored when things get too predictable.” Topical Dancer is fizzing with ideas – there’s certainly no filler among its 13 tracks. But above all, perhaps, it has a restlessness, a desire not to be boxed in and to escape others’ narrow perceptions of who they are. It’s summarised by the refrain of their new single, ‘Blenda’: “Don’t sound like what I look like / Don’t look like what I sound like.” “One thing that always comes up,” says Bolis, “is that people perceive me as the producer, and Charlotte as just a singer. Or that being a Black artist means you should be making ‘urban’ music. Those kinds of boxes don’t feel good to us.” ‘Blenda’ in particular references how “I am a product of colonialism,” says Charlotte, “and I feel guilty for taking up space in a white country.” The song was inspired in part by Reni Eddo-Lodge’s book Why I’m Not Longer Talking To White People About Race. “It talks about the colonial past and post-colonial present in the UK,” Charlotte continues, “but that isn’t merely a British or American problem, Belgium is part of that as well.” She says that her home country is likewise “oblivious to a big part of its history” which “results in general ignorance and a lack of understanding and empathy towards Belgian inhabitants of immigrant descent.” On Topical Dancer, it’s less about finger pointing or being dogmatic about all the things they speak about. It’s about emancipation through humour. “I don’t want to feel this heaviness on me,” says Charlotte. “These aren’t my crosses to bear. Topical Dancer is my way of freeing myself of these issues. And of having fun.”