MUSIC

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 meaning of “Kanawa” is so simple. We see our children trying to cross the ocean all the time. I said that many of our children die in the ocean and some of them while crossing the Sahara. Some climb over the wires across the borders and they have gotten shot. We have asked them not to leave and instead stay home. But I ask them why do they leave their country? Why do they decide to go? They said that they leave because of the family situation or problems, poverty, and unemployment. We told them if ever they are to leave, they should privilege legal ways. They should abide by laws vigorously when they are to emigrate. That’s better than hiding in boats or adopting other illegal means. I ask them to stay and work in their country. So that we can help each other find a solution to this problem. I call on the UN and African leaders so that we can coordinate our efforts to find a solution, to create jobs for them so that young people stop leaving. This song is about that message and I chose it as the title of my album because I like it. My choice is because it is very meaningful and it is something we see on a daily basis. I chose it in order to alert and sensitize everybody about this question of illegal immigration. To sensitize our brothers and sisters. It is a message. That’s why I chose it as the title of my album so that everybody can learn from it and also so that there is a reduction in the number of people emigrating. To sensitize them so that some can stay home and grow the land. Leaving is not the only solution. That’s my message. 
— NAHAWA DOUMBIA


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.

Introducing Hamed Farras! The singer, musician and performer from Abidjan. Hamed has been at the center of Ivorian reggae for over thirty years, the sound made famous by Alpha Blondy in the eighties. In 1991 Hamed released his first album Deni: named after his breakthrough track, however two tracks on his debut album never received the attention they deserve… Chef, C'est Pas Moi or "Chef, It wasn't me" features a 17 year old Hamed singing about his friend ‘Polo’ who got into trouble with the police. Slaman Djougou is about a cultural muslim who only prays during festivities. Both tracks feature Hamed’s characteristic singing and have an infectious groove that can match any of the famous Ivorian Reggae classics. Together with composer and arranger Georges Kouakou, who worked with Alpha Blondy on many of his projects, and Hamed’s brothers, magic was created in downtown Abidjan (see picture above). As the album Deni was only released on very limited cassette and CD copies at the time, Chef C’est Pas Moi and Slaman Djougou never saw the light of day. Until now... It is with great pleasure to release these songs with Hamed for the first time on vinyl after almost 30 years. The release is accompanied by a stellar DJ remix by one of our favorite producers: Lipelis!

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.”