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Recorded in the early 1970s, this collection of instrumentals is a crystal clear glimpse into a forgotten period of Portland’s music history. Fostered by the Albina Art Center, a hangout spot for creatively-inclined Black youth, The Gangsters were led by trumpeter Thara Memory who produced the sessions heard on this release. After gigging around the city for a few years, the group—who were almost all in their late teens—laid down some tracks at Ripcord Studios, but they disbanded soon thereafter and the tapes sat in a closet, unheard for over 40 years.
Rescued from obscurity, the tracks on this album have all the punch and hip-swinging joy of fellow jazz/funk artists like The Crusaders, Weather Report, and Pleasure. But with Thara Memory leading the charge, the music has a rich complexity, best exemplified by the nine-minute “Suite for Funk Band,” which runs through a series of movements that touch on Latin grooves and post-bop before culminating in an almost-psychedelic breakdown capped off by a devastating guitar solo.
For many members of The Gangsters, their careers would continue to flourish. The late Thara Memory became a renowned educator and won a Grammy for his work with Esperanza Spalding on her 2013 album Radio Music Society. Jimmy and Johnny Sanders toured in B.B. King’s band throughout his final decade of performance. Bassist Lester McFarland would go on to play with jazz icons The Crusaders, The Jeff Lorber Fusion, and Tom Grant. But what this record captures is lightning in a bottle, a period when these young men crossed paths and created a burst of energy and light.

In November 2022 world-renowned kora player Ballaké Sissoko and acclaimed guitarist Derek Gripper spend just three hours recording a wordless album together. The kora and guitar in the hands of masters - a session where New Ancient Strings meets One Night On Earth. “Musically we tested each other,” says Sissoko, explaining that the most magical aspect of their initial encounter was the spontaneity of the whole thing. “We have the mastery of our instruments, the technique and a good ear. Derek is very curious, that’s very important.” “He’s just such a good listener,” says Gripper about Sissoko. “It’s not what he plays, it’s how he plays it. He’s an amazing interpreter, the prime master of timbre.” “It’s a remarkable album,” says Lucy Duran, professor of Music at SOAS. “It’s the furthest away that Ballaké has gone from his own idiom and it’s brilliant – not world music, it’s in a totally different realm, entering new territory”
Mega rare great jazz recording of the legendary US saxophonist Hal Singer and French pianist Jef Gilson from 1974, originaly released on the French Le Chant Du Monde Label. The birth act of the Afro-/Jazz-Parisian scene that fascinated so many musicians and music fans throughout the 70s and 80s.Fantasic modal soul jazz masterpiece, a pure beauty from start to end..
A member of the radical black nationalist US Organisation, percussionist James Mtume championed the Kawaida way of life, aiming for collective creativity linked to its pan-African and Socialist ideals. With uncle Albert and father Jimmy Heath on board, Mtume cut this intense modal jazz concept album in December 1969 with Don Cherry, Herbie Hancock, Ed Blackwell and Buster Williams, yielding a masterpiece of percussion-heavy jazz, with every player on exceptional form, the five extended tracks reaching to peaks of emotional expression. This is a must-have delight for all lovers of spiritual, modal and Afrocentric jazz.

When Jako Maron reimagined Réunion island's politically-charged maloya sound on 'The electro Maloya experiments of Jako Maron', he focused on the genre's distinctive, revolutionary rhythms. Electro-plating the call-and-response thuds, he used the language of techno to upset the expected template, disrupting maloya's 6/8 pulse with modular bleeps and Roland kicks. He takes a different approach on 'Mahavélouz', focusing on the bobre, traditional maloya's only melodic instrument, a long bow amplified by a calabash that's known as the berimbau in Brazil. Maron was fascinated by the bobre's unique sonic signature, and noted that when it's usually played, it's drowned out by the louder percussive instruments. So he enlisted a number of traditional bobre performers to play a series of solos, using them to guide the album's four lead tracks and distorting and compressing the serrated hits until they stood confidently in front of his undulating roulér (bass drum) and sati (hi-hat) patterns.
"These four pieces are the culmination of my research into electronic maloya," explains Maron. "There's no need for words on this music; the bobre is the voice, and it is an ancestral voice. It's a reimagining of maloya kabaré in an electro form." This is the music that Maron has used to drive his recent live performances, so it prioritizes maloya's dancefloor potential. Swapping the traditional roulér and sati sounds for TR-606, TR-909 and TR-707 hits, he generates a hypnotic roll on opening track 'Paré po saviré' (rise up), forming a rubbery backdrop for Amemoutoulaop's acidic bobre twangs. Maron describes the track as a "call to bring spirits and people together", and using piercing feedback squeals to harmonize with the bobre, he introduces us to the voice that anchors the entire album. On 'Bék dann dir (try harder), he augments the bobre with glassy Korg Polysix chimes and Machinedrum sounds, and 'Zésprimaron'(the Maron spirit), ushers us towards a ceremony, shuffling his rhythm into a ritualistic throb, and using squelchy synth sounds to flutter into a trance.
Maron concludes his live bobre experiments with '1 piton 3 filaos' (one hill and three trees), and it's his most ambitious fusion, with hallucinatory flutes and technoid stabs rising weightlessly in-between Amemoutoulaop's frenetic performance. But this isn't the end of his investigation: Maron fleshes out 'Mahavélouz' with tonal studies that replicate the bobre synthetically. On 'Mdé prototrash', the characteristic ping is re-created by his modular system, and it's almost indistinguishable from the original instrument, buzzing and popping alongside Maron's surging percussion. The sound is more uncanny on 'dann kér Mahaveli' (in the heart of marvelous land) but no less affecting, knotted around synthetic bird calls and entrancing warbles. Even more idiosyncratic than its predecessors, 'Mahavélouz' is a bold step forward for Maron that builds on ancient foundations to construct a staggeringly new kind of dance music.


Nigeria 70: No Wahala returns to a fertile heyday in Nigerian music when established styles like highlife and juju became infused with elements of Western jazz, soul and funk in the ‘70s and early ‘80s.
"The Nigeria 70 series is the gift that keeps on giving [...] a reliable source for some of the finest music to come out of 1970s and 80s Nigeria" (Pop Matters)
Malian guitar sorcery of the highest order.
You shall not pass. Connecting Wasulu hunter music, griot praises, Senufo pastoral dances, Fula and Mandingo repertoire alongside Western psychedelia, blues and afro-beat, Zani Diabaté’s Super Djata Band was among Mali’s top orchestras of the 1980s. For their 1981 album, the Bamako-based orchestra discovers the wah-wah pedal, delivering six mind-ravishing guitar workouts for the proletariat.
For their third album on Bongo Joe, Madalitso Band takes a new direction.
After two records capturing the raw intensity of their live performances, the Malawian duo ventures for the first time into the possibilities of the studio — without ever compromising their signature style or energy.
Armed with their handmade babatone, a guitar, and their interwoven voices, Yobu and Yosefe craft a sound at the crossroads of banjo music, kwela, gospel, and African folk. An acoustic trance that’s both minimal and vibrant, deeply rooted in tradition yet undeniably fresh and contemporary. On Ma Gitala, they add new textures: layered vocals, playful percussion, melodic surprises, and guests from their close and family circles.
Always guided by instinct, the band reveals a more intimate and narrative side of their universe — full of memories, spontaneity, and close-knit complicity. An album that captures the joy and creativity of two artists who turned the street into a stage, and the stage into a playground.

“This is the time that we, who have benefited from the Last Poets should be able to say, ‘it’s the Last Poets. It’s them we should be honouring, because we did not honour them for so many years…”
KRS One wasn’t just addressing the hip hop fraternity when he uttered those words by way of introducing the video for Invocation – a poem written thirty years ago, around the time of the Last Poets’ last significant comeback. He was speaking to everyone who’s been affected by the word, sound and power issuing from the most revolutionary poetry ever witnessed, and that the Last Poets had introduced to the world outside of Harlem at the dawn of the seventies.
In 2018 the two remaining Last Poets, Abiodun Oyewole and Umar Bin Hassan, embarked on another memorable return with an album – Understand What Black Is – that earned favourable comparison with their seminal works of the past, whilst showcasing their undimmed passion and lyrical brilliance in an entirely new setting – that of reggae music. Tracks like Rain Of Terror (“America is a terrorist”) and How Many Bullets demonstrated that they’d lost none of their fire or anger, and their essential raison d’etre remained the same.
“The Last Poets’ mission was to pull the people out of the rubble o f their lives,” wrote their biographer Kim Green. “They knew, deep down that poetry could save the people – that if black people could see and hear themselves and their struggles through the spoken word, they would be moved to change.”
Several years later and the follow-up is now with us. The project started when Tony Allen, the Nigerian master drummer whose unique polyrhythms had driven much of Fela Kuti’s best work, dropped by Prince Fatty’s Brighton studio and laid down a selection of drum patterns to die for. That was back in 2019, but then the pandemic struck. Once it had passed, the label booked a studio in Brooklyn, where the two Poets voiced four tracks apiece and breathed fresh energy, fire and outrage into some of the most enduring landmarks of their career. Abiodun, who was one of the original Last Poets who’d gathered in East Harlem’s Mount Morris Park to celebrate Malcolm X’s birthday in May 1968, chose four poems that first appeared on the group’s 1970 debut album, called simply The Last Poets. He’d written When The Revolution Comes aged twenty, whilst living in Jamaica, Queens. “We were getting ready for a revolution,” he told Green. “There wasn’t any question about whether there was going to be one or not. The truth was many of us still saw ourselves as “niggers” and slaves. This was a mindset that had to change if there was ever to be Black Power.”
He and writer Amiri Baraka were deep in conversation one day when Baraka became distracted by a pretty girl walking by. “You’re a gash man,” Abiodun told him. The poem inspired by that incident, Gash Man, is revisited on the new album, and exposes the heartless nature of sexual acts shorn of intimacy or affection. “Instead of the vagina being the entrance to heaven,” he says, “it too often becomes a gash, an injury, a wound…”
Two Little Boys meanwhile, was inspired after seeing two young boys aged around 11 or 12 “stuffing chicken and cornbread down their tasteless mouths, trying to revive shrinking lungs and a wasted mind.” They’d walked into Sylvia’s soul food restaurant in Harlem, ordered big meals, then bolted them down and run out the door. No one chased after them, knowing that they probably hadn’t eaten in days. Fifty years later and children are still going hungry in major cities across America and elsewhere. Abiodun’s poem hasn’t lost any relevance at all, and neither has New York, New York, The Big Apple. “Although this was written in 1968, New York hasn’t changed a bit,” he admits, except “today, people just mistake her sickness for fashion.”
Umar is originally from Akron, Ohio, but had arrived in Harlem in early 1969 after seeing Abiodun and the other Last Poets at a Black Arts Festival in Cleveland. That’s where he first witnessed what Amiri Baraka once called “the rhythmic animation of word, poem, image as word-music” – a creative force that redefined the concept of performance poetry and stripped it bare until it became a howl of rage, hurt and anger, saved from destruction by mockery and love for humanity. When Umar’s father, who was a musician, was jailed for armed robbery he took to the streets from an early age where he shined shoes and raised whatever money he could to help feed his eight brothers and sisters. By the time he saw the Last Poets he’d joined the Black United Front and was ready to join the struggle.
Once in Harlem, Abiodun asked him what he’d learnt in the few weeks since he’d got there. “Niggers are scared of revolution,” Umar replied. “Write it down” urged Abiodun. That poem still gives off searing heat more than fifty years later. In Umar’s own words, “it became a prayer, a call to arms, a spiritual pond to bathe and cleanse in because niggers are not just vile and disgusting and shiftless. Niggers are human beings lost in someone else’s system of values and morals.”
And there you have it. It's not just race or religion that hold us back, but an economic system that keeps millions in poverty and living in fear – a system born from political choice and that’s now become so entrenched, so bloated on its own success that it’s put mankind in mortal danger. It was many black people’s acceptance of the status quo that inspired Just Because, which like Niggers Are Scared Of Revolution, was included on that seminal first album. Along with their revolutionary rhetoric, it was the Last Poets’ use of the “n word” that proved so shocking, but it would be wrong to suggest that they reclaimed it, since it never belonged to black people in the first place. There’s never any hiding place when it comes to the Last Poets. They use words like weapons, and that force all who listen to decide who they are and where they stand.
Umar’s two remaining tracks find him revisiting poems first unleashed on the Poets’ second album This Is Madness! Abiodun had left for North Carolina by then where he became more deeply enmeshed in revolutionary activities and spent almost four years in jail for armed robbery after attempting to seize funds related to the Klu Klux Klan. Meanwhile, the 21 year old Umar was squatting in Brooklyn and had developed close ties with the Dar-ul Islam Movement. A longing for purity and time-honoured spiritual values underpins Related to What, whilst This Is Madness is a call for freedom “by any means necessary,” and that paints a feverish landscape peopled by prominent black leaders but that quickly descends into chaos. “All my dreams have been turned into psychedelic nightmares,” he wails, over a groove now powered by Tony Allen’s ferocious drumming.
Those sessions lasted just two days, and we can only imagine the atmosphere in that room as the hip hop godfathers exchanged the conga drums of Harlem for the explosive sounds of authentic Afrobeat. Once they’d finished, the recordings and momentum returned to Prince Fatty’s studio, since relocated from Brighton to SE London. This was stage three of the project, and who better to fill out the rhythm tracks than two key musicians from Seun Anikulapo Kuti’s band Egypt 80? Enter guitarist Akinola Adio Oyebola and bassist Kunle Justice, who upon hearing Allen’s trademark grooves exclaimed, “oh, the Father… we are home!”
Such joy and enthusiasm resulted in the perfect fusion of Nigerian Afrobeat and revolutionary poetry, but the vision for the album wasn’t yet complete. He wanted to create a new kind of soundscape – one that reunited the Poets with the progressive jazz movement they’d once shared with musicians like Sun Ra and Pharoah Sanders. It was at that point they recruited exciting jazz talents based in the UK like Joe Armon Jones from Mercury Prize winners Ezra Collective, also widely acclaimed producer/remixer and keyboard player Kaidi Tatham, who’s been likened to Herbie Hancock, and British jazz legend Courtney Pine, whose genius on the saxophone and influence on the UK’s now vibrant jazz scene is beyond question.
The instrumental tracks on Africanism are in many ways as revelatory and exciting as the Last Poets’ own. It’s important to remember that the kaleidoscope of styles and influences we’re presented with here aren’t the result of sampling but were played “live” by musicians responding to sounds made by other musicians. That’s where the magic comes from, aided by Prince Fatty’s peerless mixing which allows us to hear everything with such clarity. Music fans today have grown accustomed to listening to all kinds of different genres. Their tastes have never been so broad or all-encompassing, and so the music on this new Last Poets’ album is as groundbreaking as their lyrics, and perfectly suited to the era that we’re now living in.


南アフリカ出身のDJ DadamanとMoscow Dollarによる最新作『Kagaza』が、ウガンダ版〈PAN〉な大名門〈Nyege Nyege Tapes〉から登場。本作では、バカルディ、クワイト、アマピアノ、ハウス、シンセ・ポップといった様々なジャンルやスタイルを横断した全6曲を収録。ミリタリスティックなスネア、プロト・アマピアノ/ポスト・クワイトのベースライン、ハウス風のM1ピアノ・フレーズ、曲がりくねったシンセ・シークエンスが特徴的。バントゥー語のXitsongaで歌うMoscow Dollarのヴォーカルが、タウンシップの生活を生き生きと描写していきます。南アフリカの豊かな音楽の歴史を伝えると同時に、未来を予言するようなサウンドが詰まった一枚!
Albert Ayler's 1970 album “Music Is the Healing Force of the Universe” is now available on Endless Happiness! Music Is the Healing Force of the Universe" is a unique work that marks the end of Ayler's career, and as the title suggests, it is a spiritual jazz masterpiece with the grand theme that music is a cosmic healing force. While free jazz is the core of the album, Ayler's experimental spirit is on full display as he boldly introduces elements as diverse as electric guitar, blues, gospel, and poetry reading. Particularly impressive are the vocals and poetry readings of his partner, Mary Maria Parks, which give the whole piece a sense of mystical religiosity and prayer, resonating with the cosmic spiritual jazz of Sun Ra and Pharoah Sanders, among others. This album was released just before Ayler's death, so it can be heard as his last will and testament.

Narciso has been running parallel to most of his contemporaries, staying close to the main lane but researching in his own distinctive way. He takes pride in "being free from limitations and conventions. To me, music doesn't follow fixed rules; it is a field for experimentation, where any sound can be transformed into something pleasing to the ear". Depending on what one considers "pleasing", this is a pretty challenging set of tracks. The artist never loses the balance, though, mindful of a certain "dance" context in which this music thrives, but it is also that same context that is being constantly twisted and reshaped into other forms. Some of those provide fresh ground for others to follow; some are of such individuality that no one else dares disturbance; some quickly return to a safer way of communication.
"Diferenciado" does communicate, but like words can be changed to sound different and still mean the same, such are music and sound with Narciso. It's not about alienation of the listener nor alienation of the self from the surrounding areas. "I believe music is present in everything around us." And if anyone can say her/his/their music "reflects vision, experience and perception", you know the end result is not often surprising or even that different from previous examples. Well, we stand by "Diferenciado" in its obvious distinctiveness, and if all the blurb so far may read like a nervous justification it's just because of the excitement in helping put this out into the world.
As a founding element of RS Produções, where Nuno Beats, DJ Lima, DJ Nulo and Farucox are also found, Narciso has been contributing to a spiritual and creative atmosphere that permeates the environs of Lisbon where that golden, inspired air has to fight for space with many kinds of instability. The beauty and drama of opening tracks "Ziu Ziu" and "Cabelinho" (this one with mate Farucox) should be able to touch any sensitive soul that appreciates the quirkiness often attached to pure expression. As in "Pipipi" too, for example, where melody and rhythm gently and moodily lead you into a brief but sudden interruption feeling like a change into another state of being. Do not shy away. Narciso steps up as himself, not as representative of whatever or whoever.

Hailing from Tanzania's bustling cultural hub Dar Es Salaam - the biggest city in East Africa - young beatmaker DJ Travella is setting the breakneck pace for its musical evolution. He's been producing since he was just 10 years old and has already bent singeli into surprising new shapes, welding euphoric EDM breakdowns and earworm-y R&B riffs to the Tanzanian genre's frenetic rhythms. 'Twende' is a straight-to-the-point set of the producer's most requested secret weapons - four hyper-melodic floor fillers that were developed shortly after releasing his acclaimed debut album 'Mr Mixondo'. Featured on his popular Boiler Room performance, these tracks will be familiar to anyone who's managed to catch one of his sets.
Starting things out right with 'Trust', a wonky, festival-ready 170BPM ass shaker that shuffles a familiar singeli beat around wormy synths, Travella keeps things moving with the blink-and-you'll-miss-it 'Believe', a minute and a half of brassy pop fanfares and buzzing rhythms. On 'Mchakamchaka' he introduces quivering soukous guitar phrases into the mix, keeping up the momentum with crowd noise and pneumatic sound design vamps, and 'Vumbi Vumbi' slows things down, just a bit, splaying plasticky, acidic leads over blown-out syncopated beats. It's one for the feet, no doubt.

Recorded in Kampala, 'Mapambazuko' pairs Peruvian artist and researcher Alejandra Cárdenas (aka Ale Hop) with Congolese guitarist Titi Bakorta, who locate a balmy junction between their respective approaches. Bakorta's debut album 'Molende', released on Nyege Nyege Tapes in 2023, was an eccentric rumination on his years performing a unique fusion of Congolese soukous and folk sounds, and 'Mapambazuko' picks up where it left off, looping Bakorta's wiry guitar solos around Cárdenas' psychedelic Afro-Latin rhythms and fractured synths. Cárdenas' last run of albums have bounced her around the stylistic map: on the acclaimed 'Agua Dulce', she deconstructed traditional Peruvian rhythms with Laura Robles, while she traversed radically different territory on 2021's 'The life of Insects', imagining an abstract universe from the inside of a terrarium. All this experience - in pop music, electroacoustic experimentation and avant-garde minimalism - is applied to 'Mapambazuko' as she skews Bakorta's exuberant themes with subtle sound design elements and powerful, uncompromising drumwork.
Opener 'Bonne année' is a twitchy, effervescent party starter, with a frenetic rhythm from Cárdenas that gradually picks up grit, only enhancing the vivid soukous-inspired phrases from Bakorta. And on the title track, Bakorta's rubbery improvisations sound as if they're bouncing off Cárdenas' dissociated whirrs and squeals, while the duo's furious pulse holds their raw experimentation in check. Their worlds collide even more conspicuously on 'Una cumbia en Kinshasa', that identifies the similarities between psychedelic Peruvian cumbia and Congolese pop, and on 'Así baila el sintetizador' they ratchet up the tempo, smudging Bakorta's fictile riffs into Cárdenas' zesty oscillations. The acceleration only lets up on the album's gauzy finale 'Nitaangaza', where Bakorta plays dizzy psych-rock wails over Cárdenas' syrup-laced thuds and lopsided drones. And the album is filled out with three exclusive remixes. Kenyan sound artist KMRU strips the beat from 'Nitaangaza' and brings out its latent sensuality, adding light-headed pads and soft-hearted tones to re-contextualize the original track.
On her rework, Cárdenas augments 'Una cumbia en Kinshasa' with an even more belligerent rhythm, cutting further into Bakorta's glistening riffs and eventually guiding the track into chattering chaos. While Flora Yin-Wong marches towards the end credits with a sultry, percussive version of 'Así baila el sintetizador'. Slowing it down to a crawl and emphasizing the eerie, artificial landscape, Yin-Wong shines moonlight on Bakorta and Cárdenas' sun-baked grooves, providing the necessary wind-down as the party comes to an end.

Based in Kampala, Arsenal Mikebe are a groundbreaking Ugandan ensemble who playfully dance around the fringes of of acoustic and electronic music, infusing tempo-fluxed polyrhythms with dizzying chants and ghostly synthetic drones. The band is made up of percussionists Ssentongo Moses, Dratele Epiphany, Luyambi Vincent de Paul and was co-founded by Portugese sonic alchemist Jonathan Uliel Saldanha, together they straddle a unique custom instrument dreamt up by Ugandan master sculptor Henry Segamwenge, better known simply as Sega. By reverse engineering Roland's iconic TR-808 beatbox, they devised a steel-cast "percussion machine" that allows Arsenal Mikebe to seamlessly integrate bass-heavy electronic sounds into their frenetic performances, and it's this device that lies at the core of their debut album.
'DRUM MACHINE' is a rhythmic masterclass that's impossible to slot into any particular niche or other. Moses, Vincent and Dratele's kinetic beats appear to bisect each other, slipping between time signatures as fluidly as they pierce the membrane between the organic and the digital. On opening track 'Okuleekaana', brushy high-end hits coalesce into quivering patterns that bounce off the trio's guttural chants before the track's shuttled into peak-time by an ear-splitting distorted kick. Harsh death metal-style growls echo and spiral into the distance, and Sega's percussion machine is nudged into overdrive, its smorgasbord of distinctive pulses lifted skyward by glassy, evocative synths and resonant twangs.
It's extreme music, in a sense, but Arsenal Mikebe command startling dynamics, veering off course whenever possible. 'Omuzimu' is the perfect example, a labyrinth of itchy rhythms and anxious pauses that only slowly converges into a discernible beat, with its jerky bumps and muted crashes underpinned by eerie, almost inaudible B-movie whines and stifled shouts. And on the lengthy 'Boiller Omukka', the trio sing soulfully and wordlessly over feverish hollow thuds and cowbell knocks, referencing traditional Ugandan song forms while simultaneously excavating the bones of techno. It all builds up to the rubbery, intense 'Bell Ghost', that carves energetic vocal snippets into an undulating rhythmic concertina and fractalizes the atmosphere with swirling, psychedelic flutes and haunted intonations.

Since the release of 2021's 'Bubbling Inside' - a collection of Dutch wunderkind Guillermo Schuurman's most vital early productions, plus a few recent additions - the DJ and producer has been touring incessantly, introducing the wider world to his feet-forward, hybrid style. Rooted in the Netherlands' Afro-diasporic bubbling sound, it's an effervescent cocktail of dancehall, electro, EDM and R&B that fizzed to the surface back in the late 1980s, dominating Den Haag's vibrant club scene in the '90s and '00s. Spurred on by his uncle DJ Chippie, who helped co-found the genre, De Schuurman revitalized the movement in the late '00s, and has been instrumental in bringing bubbling back to the main stage, puzzling out its intersections with trap, techno and beyond.
'Bubbling Forever' is another unforgettable arsenal of acidic laser synths, Antillean tambu percussion and swirling vocal snippets, all anchored to an all-important dancehall swing - the backbone of the sound since its earliest days in Den Haag. Like its predecessor, the collection is a wide-reaching set of vintage cuts and twitchy new productions, kicking off with the curled 'Raw', an immaculate introduction to De Schuurman's world: cybernetic electronic swooshes, backed by rattling percussion and the kind of kicks that don't cut, they bounce. And although it's relatively hotfooted, De Schuurman's music is blessed with unexpected lightness, coaxing movement sensually rather than demanding it. On 'Stylez Two' for example, fiery screams and breakneck beats are disencumbered by steel drum chimes and cheery whistles, splitting the mood between the sweatbox and the carnival.
But De Schuurman's greatest talent is his ability to absorb ideas from all across the musical map. 'Scratchin' fuses urgent turntablist scrapes with nostalgic 8-bit bleeps, and on 'Bubbling Meets Kaseko', he teams up with DJ Electro to blend big-room air horns and wobbly synths with traditional Surinamese melodies and percussion. He even brings bubbling OG DJ Chuckie along on 'Gangster Sht 2', flipping rap samples and stuttering ATL trap percussion into a whirlwind peak-time banger. And there even a few moments when De Schuurman takes a breather and turns down the tempo a little: he pulls back on 'Fucked Up Industrie', layering tangy lead zaps over a hiccuping Caribbean step, and leads the album out horizontally with 'Fashion Week', curving plasticky flutes around piercing woodblock cracks.
Bubbling might be approaching its fourth decade, but with producers like De Schuurman constantly breathing new life into the formula, it's not about to disappear any time soon. 'Bubbling Forever' is some of the most viscous, energetic and original dancefloor material you're likely to hear this year. Play loud!
Mark Ernestus’ Ndagga Rhythm Force lick another deadly shot of tumbling, tucked-up senegalese mbalax, making their 1st outing of ’16 and a 3rd 12” together in this line-up since 2015.
We’re all over the sloshing Walo Walo Version something rotten. It’s an utter joy to reprogramme yourself to its tangled syncopation, picking out and anticipating particular patterns with uncertain limbs, revelling in its wickedly stumbling, uniquely resolved meter. If, like us you’re nuts for drums, that lone, hingeing clap will leave you equally rapt, and then there’s a locked groove…
Flip side is also amazing: Ndiguel Groove resets the rhythm to a loping, shoe-laces-tied sort of house bustle sprinkled with lissom guitar and suspended in Mark’s mixing trickery, before turning up a denser original mix of Walo Walo Rhythm riding that Prophet 5 bassline and talking drums ‘aaaard.



Strut present the second volume in a series of compilations taken from the archives of Disques Debs International, the longest-running and most prolific label of the French Caribbean.
Set up by the late Henri Debs in the late ‘50s, the label has continued for over 50 years, releasing hundreds of records and playing a pivotal role in bringing the creole music of Guadeloupe and Martinique to a wider international audience.
Volume 2 of the series focuses on the label’s ‘70s output and the development of the unique Cadence sound, pulling disparate influences into a Pan-Caribbean blend of rhythms, styles and languages that dominated the dancehalls, clubs and concerts of the decade.
Based in a small but state-of-the-art studio on the first floor of Henri Debs’ Club 97-1, just outside Pointe-à-Pitre in the town of Gosier, the label hosted sessions from the cream of local and regional talent, hothousing ideas into over 100 LP and 45 releases over the decade that reflected an increasingly confident creole identity.
Groups like Les Vikings, Super Combo and Typical Combo along with a host of lesser-known bands were in fierce but friendly competition in the bals, dances and concerts in Guadeloupe, across the region and into Metropolitan France. Haitian Compas, Congolese influences from le Ry-Co Jazz, cadence-lypso and reggae from Dominica and a heavy dose of jazz and Puerto Rican salsa were thrown into the mix alongside local biguine, quadrille and gwo ka to power an unrivalled recorded output.
Compiled by Hugo Mendez (Sofrito) and Emile Omar (Roseaux), ‘Cadence Revolution’ is released in conjunction with Henri Debs et Fils and Air Caraibes. The package features previously unseen photos from the Debs archive featuring extensive liner notes and an interview with singer and trombonist Christian Zora (Les Maxel’s, Energy).
