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Pick a small spot (a point) in front of you (a small knot of wood, a dog down the way). And tightly focus on this spot. And now slowly unfocus your gaze. Widen your gaze. Pan out without moving your eyes. Take it all in.
A smeared and pixelated surface, swelling of contour and light. (Monet’s seepages of light, Altman’s overlapping nomadic dialogue.) Once you have unfocused with little to no center of attention, slowly close your eyes. And please feel very free to notice the light. All of the light that your eyes knocked back as you dilated your focal point. This exercise can be repeated a few times. Unfocusing does not always come easily. And it is probably best to not put too much effort into it. Best to not employ too much pressure.
And we will not put too much pressure on this exercise to help us explain away the humidly, saturatedly psychedelic canopy of moan-‘n-twang and slackelastic-groove of The Dwarfs Of East Agouza’s Sasquatch Landslide.
Mitch Hedberg has a great joke about the Sasquatch: “I think Bigfoot is blurry. That’s the problem. It’s not the photographer’s fault. Bigfoot is blurry! And that’s extra scary to me, because there’s a large out-of-focus monster roaming the countryside.”
Sasquatch Landslide. A landslide of hazy configurations. Blurriness, far from a lack of detail, is an embroidering of detail, a horizontal expansion of surface and swarms of light. The name “Sasquatch” derives from the Salish word se'sxac, which means “wild men.” And Sasquatch Landslide is wild. Everything is unravelling. Offset. Décalage. A whole host of slippery tempos and pulses as the organs, guitars and saxophones loiter and lope over a skipping hop of beats, and everything emerges always mid-stream. It is all middle with no halfway point, no dead center, no bullseye. Everything twangs, moans, sweeps, slips, swings, skitters, slides, and grooves out of nowhere. And the almost-human voice with no mother-tongue.
There is something ecstatic (an elatedly miniscule frenzy) going on here but it is pushed beyond the ecstatic: a joyous-grotesque rolling right past trance to dance. Psychedelias appear out of the infra-spaces in between the apparitions and overlapping ‘regimes’ and registers—pushed and squeezed far beyond the recognizable. And these spaces groove joyously hard like some kind of illusive House music, houses completely submerged in molasses. BigFoot-work? (Oh my!) There is not a place to throw your anchor here in the furrowing humidity. That does, and it does, sound like some kind of landslide.
A psychedelic encounter is a brush with the marvel of otherness. The point from which we speak of other, becomes other itself, in an ever-storm of other-production that shreds ideas of knowing and understanding what we think is going on. Time unhinged from the clock. Space unhinged from the frame. An unpinpointing hallucination, a hot get-down, an untethered throw-down of oscillations, fiercely, joyously, exuberantly incomprehensible. Listening to Sasquatch Landslide, a wildly unhinged reverie.
Eric Chenaux and Mariette Cousty
Condat-sur-Ganaveix, February 2025
Egypt’s “official” popular music throughout much of the 20th Century was a complex form of art song steeped in tradition, well-loved by the middle and upper classes, and even accommodating to certain non-Arabic influences. It was highly structured by professional musicians working an established industry centered in the capitol, Cairo.
However, far from the bustling cosmopolitan center of Cairo, north and northwest, in towns like Tanta and Alexandria and extending across the Saharan Desert to the Libyan border, dozens of fully marginalized artists were developing a raw, hybrid shaabi/al-musiqa al-shabiya style of music, supported by smaller upstart, independent labels, including the short-lived but deeply resonant Bourini Records.
Launched in the late 1960s in Benghazi, Libya, Astuanat al-Bourini اسطوانات البوريني (Bourini Records) published some 40 to 50 titles from 1968 to 1975. Bourini released 7-inch 45 RPM singles by 15 artists, all but one of them Egyptian, igniting brief careers for Alexandrian singer Sheikh Amin Abdel Qader and the blind Bedouin legend Abu Bakr Abdel Aziz (aka Abu Abab).
The tracks compiled here comprise a full range of styles covered by the label, while highlighting some of its most gob smacking moments, from Basis Rahouma’s beastly transformation into a growling and barking man-lion by the end of “Yana Alla Nafsa Masouda,” to Reem Kamal’s hopeful-if-bitter handclapping party pivot “Baed Al Yas Yjini,” which descends into an almost Velvet Underground outro-groove of nihilistic dissonance.
All the tracks on this compilation were laid down in stark divergence from the mainstream Egyptian popular music topography of heightened emotions buoyed by lush arrangements. The contrast is most evident in Mahmoud al-Sandidi’s “Ana Mish Hafwatak,” wherein his voice weaves heavily but deftly through a constant accordion drone, and Abu Abab’s “Al Bint al Libya,” a sparse, slow-burning lament with minimal percussion, violin, and Abab’s nephew Hamed Abdel Muna'im Mursi on lyre.
Whereas the Egyptian mainstream was aspirational, attempting to reflect Egyptian culture at its most refined, the performances captured by Bourini were manifestations of everyday life lived by the mostly otherwise ignored masses.
More than half century old, this music has lost none of its urgency, presence, or relevance. We hear these artists as if they’d just joined us in our living room, and not on a stage decades ago surrounded by tens of thousands of long-forgotten acolytes.
Available on vinyl for the very first time: “The Trance Of Seven Colors” by master Gnawa musician MALEEM MAHMOUD GHANIA and free jazz legend PHAROAH SANDERS. Produced by BILL LASWELL and according to The Attic “one of the most important albums of Gnawa trance music released in the ‘90s”.
Originally released in 1994 on BILL LASWELL’s AXIOM imprint, “The Trance Of Seven Colors” is the meeting of two true musical masters: MALEEM MAHMOUD GHANIA (1951 – 2015), son of the master of Gnawa music MALEEM BOUBKER GHANIA and the famous clairvoyant and "moqaddema" A'ISHA QABRAL, and a master of the traditional Gnawa style in his own right. MAHMOUD learned this craft as a youth along with his brothers, walking from village to village, performing ceremonies with his father BOUBKER and was one of the few masters (Maleem) who continued to practice the Gnawa tradition strictly for healing (the central ritual of the Gnawa is the trance music ceremony – with the purpose of healing or purification of the participants). With 30 cassette releases of music from the Gnawa repertoire with his own ensemble and performances at every major festival in Morocco, including performing for the King in various contexts, MAHMOUD GHANIA was also one of Morocco's most prominent professional musicians.
In 1994, BILL LASWELL and PHAROAH SANDERS went to Mocrocco, equipped with just some mobile recording devices, to record GHANIA and a large ensemble of musicians (to a good part family members) in a very intimate set up at a private house with the legendary free jazz musician contributing his distinctive tenor saxophone sounds that gained him highest praise as a truely spiritual soul right from the days of playing with JOHN COLTRANE and his wife ALICE and on seminal solo albums like „Karma“.
The aptly titled „The Trance of Seven Colors“ ranks among the best Gnawa recordings ever released , made it onto the list of “10 incredible percussive albums from around the world” by Thevinylfactory.com and is 25 years after its original CD release on finally available on vinyl!
Pick a small spot (a point) in front of you (a small knot of wood, a dog down the way). And tightly focus on this spot. And now slowly unfocus your gaze. Widen your gaze. Pan out without moving your eyes. Take it all in.
A smeared and pixelated surface, swelling of contour and light. (Monet’s seepages of light, Altman’s overlapping nomadic dialogue.) Once you have unfocused with little to no center of attention, slowly close your eyes. And please feel very free to notice the light. All of the light that your eyes knocked back as you dilated your focal point. This exercise can be repeated a few times. Unfocusing does not always come easily. And it is probably best to not put too much effort into it. Best to not employ too much pressure.
And we will not put too much pressure on this exercise to help us explain away the humidly, saturatedly psychedelic canopy of moan-‘n-twang and slackelastic-groove of The Dwarfs Of East Agouza’s Sasquatch Landslide.
Mitch Hedberg has a great joke about the Sasquatch: “I think Bigfoot is blurry. That’s the problem. It’s not the photographer’s fault. Bigfoot is blurry! And that’s extra scary to me, because there’s a large out-of-focus monster roaming the countryside.”
Sasquatch Landslide. A landslide of hazy configurations. Blurriness, far from a lack of detail, is an embroidering of detail, a horizontal expansion of surface and swarms of light. The name “Sasquatch” derives from the Salish word se'sxac, which means “wild men.” And Sasquatch Landslide is wild. Everything is unravelling. Offset. Décalage. A whole host of slippery tempos and pulses as the organs, guitars and saxophones loiter and lope over a skipping hop of beats, and everything emerges always mid-stream. It is all middle with no halfway point, no dead center, no bullseye. Everything twangs, moans, sweeps, slips, swings, skitters, slides, and grooves out of nowhere. And the almost-human voice with no mother-tongue.
There is something ecstatic (an elatedly miniscule frenzy) going on here but it is pushed beyond the ecstatic: a joyous-grotesque rolling right past trance to dance. Psychedelias appear out of the infra-spaces in between the apparitions and overlapping ‘regimes’ and registers—pushed and squeezed far beyond the recognizable. And these spaces groove joyously hard like some kind of illusive House music, houses completely submerged in molasses. BigFoot-work? (Oh my!) There is not a place to throw your anchor here in the furrowing humidity. That does, and it does, sound like some kind of landslide.
A psychedelic encounter is a brush with the marvel of otherness. The point from which we speak of other, becomes other itself, in an ever-storm of other-production that shreds ideas of knowing and understanding what we think is going on. Time unhinged from the clock. Space unhinged from the frame. An unpinpointing hallucination, a hot get-down, an untethered throw-down of oscillations, fiercely, joyously, exuberantly incomprehensible. Listening to Sasquatch Landslide, a wildly unhinged reverie.
Eric Chenaux and Mariette Cousty
Condat-sur-Ganaveix, February 2025
Beirut-via-Berlin polymath Raed Yassin summons the supernatural thru a modular synth and spectra of strategies derived from Terry Riley’s minimalism, Suicide’s no wave rock freedom, and synth-pop structures. A strong follow-up to his ambitious ‘Phantom Orchestra’ side with Rabih Beaini - one side panoramic melodrama, to one side turbulent helical spiral.
Issued to coincide with Yassin’s debut London exhibition of the same name, ‘Eternal Ghost’ is the latest iteration of his decades-long artistic thrust toward consolidating improvised and composed musics. Concrète yet ephemeral, minimal yet majestic, the results diverge and contrast in their outlooks and formations with a guile that has served Yassin well thus far, from a memorable 2009 solo debut of illbient collage for Annihaya Records, to jams with Alan Bishop & AMM as part of “A” Trio, and in Praed/Praed Orchestra!, and most the centre of a complex maelstrom for Morphine Records.
Perhaps unusually ‘Eternal Ghost’ frames Yassin mostly solo and left to his own devices for one of their most intimate, if widescreen, expressions of self. ‘A Spectre of a Stranger’ creeps crepuscular with modular synth evoking onset of night before his synth leads tear at the sky in Riley-esque ribbons layered with wholehearted wail in a compelling forward tilt. The B-side ‘Eternal Ghost’ also charges the metaphysical thru synthetic means with its initial lift of saccading arps knotting into panel-beaten industrial pulse and epic pop vox vamps that switch from fourth world optimism to more ragged no wave dystopia, or the other side of the same wave?
Big Crown Records is proud to present Derya Yıldırım & Grup Şimşek’s latest album Yarın Yoksa. The show stopping intensity of Derya backed by the psychedelic soul of Grup Şimşek with production by Leon Michels has yielded a stand out record that challenges genre with a broad appeal and a powerful message.
They refer to themselves as “outernational” over international as they say it suggests a sound that’s more inclusive or “beyond borders.” Derya, who sings and plays the bağlama, is German born to Turkish parents. Drummer Helen Wells is Berlin-based by way of South Africa while keyboard player Graham Mushnik and guitar/bass player Antonin Voyant are both French. The collective influences they bring to Anatolian music make for a completely unique and fresh sound that both pushes the genre forward and champions its rich heritage.
Yarın Yoksa which translates to If There Is No Tomorrow delves into deeply personal pain and collective resistance with a central thread of loss, longing, and hope for change running throughout. The lyrics are poetic and rely heavily on symbolic language, metaphors, and storytelling while the music shifts track to track making each tune stand out on its own but work together perfectly as an album.
“Cool Hand”, the first single released on Big Crown in September of 2024, is a beautiful juxtaposition of intensity and lightheartedness over a thoroughly infectious groove. The message is poetic and complicated, repeatedly declaring “I love you, I’m crazy about you” but ultimately finding a sense of peace through accepting a broken heart. “Direne Direne” is a protest song that embodies the struggle and tireless pursuit of justice encouraging people to resist oppression. Derya’s lyrics soar over the psych-soul musical backdrop as her story of personal struggle transforms to a universal call for resilience and strength. The slow and weighty vibe of “Yakamoz” lets onto the meaning of the lyrics even to those who don’t understand Turkish. It is a deeply moving song that captures the profound emotions connected to displacement and loss without knowing if you will ever return. The steady groove of the band, along with the anguished vocals paint a vivid picture of the devastation experienced by the protagonist who ultimately realizes that her roots are within her and anywhere she goes is her home.
Nine of the tunes on the album are original compositions but they also take on three Anatollian folk songs with their own inimitable approach. The acapella introduction of “Misket”, a folk song from Ankara/Türkiye, will stop you in your tracks. The tune deals with death and how the living cope and continue a relationship with those who have passed away. Another traditional tune from Sivas that they put their signature sound to is “Hop Bico”, a tune about a playful character named Bico who is a symbol of vitality and spirit. The synth intro grabs your ear from the first note and the earworm chorus encouraging Bico to lead the group in celebration and embrace life through dance has the same effect on everyone who hears it.
The band has taken a big step forward that you can hear on this record. Derya’s passion and authenticity is front and center and the music is too moving to deny. Yarın Yoksa is sure to captivate the hearts and minds of all those who hear it, and just wait til you hear them play it live… <iframe style="border: 0; width: 350px; height: 472px;" src="https://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/album=1477941979/size=large/bgcol=ffffff/linkcol=333333/artwork=none/transparent=true/" seamless><a href="https://deryayildirimandgrupsimsek.bandcamp.com/album/yar-n-yoksa">Yarın Yoksa by Derya Yıldırım & Grup Şimşek</a></iframe>
With Ylh Bye Bye, Swiss-Moroccan producer Sami Galbi delivers a raw and electrifying debut album after the succes of his first single Dakchi Hani / Rruina. Merging North African folk, chaâbi, and trap with forward-thinking electronic club music, his punk energy and DIY ethos stem from years immersed in Lausanne’s underground squat scene, shaping a sound that’s both deeply personal and politically charged.
Driven by infectious North African melodic loops, heavy basslines, and percussive textures—blending bendir drums, karkabas, and analog synths—Ylh Bye Bye pulses with urgency. From high-energy dancefloor anthems to dreamy acid pop ballads, the album explores themes of migration, identity, and belonging. Galbi’s Arabic vocals oscillate between auto-tuned harmonies and spoken word, capturing the tensions of diaspora life.
Recorded between Switzerland and Morocco, the album’s title—meaning “Let’s go” or “See you” in regional slang—reflects the artist’s nomadic journey, from a DIY studio in a van to a transformative creative residency in Casablanca. It’s a work of constant movement, embodying both departure and return.
Following their award-winning collaboration with the father of Ethio jazz, Mulatu Astatke (Mojo magazine Top 50 of the year 2009, Sunday Times World Music Album of the year), pioneering UK collective The Heliocentrics resurface alongside another fascinating jazz enigma, ethno-musicologist, jazz maestro and multi-instrumentalist, Lloyd Miller.
Learning various instruments and immersing himself in New Orleans jazz through his father, a professional clarinet player, Lloyd Miller first trained himself in the styles of George Lewis and Jimmy Giuffre and cut his first Dixieland jazz 78 rpm record in 1950. During the late ‘50s, his father landed a job in Iran and Miller began to develop a lifelong interest in Persian and Eastern music forms, learning to play a vast array of traditional ethnic instruments from across Asia and the Middle East.
He toured Europe heavily, basing himself in Switzerland, Belgium, Sweden, Germany (where he played with Eddie Harris and Don Ellis) and, most famously, in Paris where he worked with oddball bandleader Jef Gilson, a phenomenon in French jazz during the early ‘60s. Miller returned to the Middle East during the ‘70s, landing his own TV show on NIRTV in Tehran under the name Kurosh Ali Khan. His show became a national fixture and ran for seven years.
Miller has since been a vocal ambassador for preserving the traditions of many forms of Eastern music. In recent years, his mid-‘60s album ‘Oriental Jazz’ has become a collector’s favourite and the UK’s Jazzman label have issued a compilation, ‘A Lifetime In Oriental Jazz’, covering work from across his career.
The renewed interest in his music has spawned this new collaboration with The Heliocentrics. Emerging from an acoustic jazz session in 2007 set up by Jazzman (and now released as the Lloyd Miller Trio EP on the same label), the new album project was recorded at The Heliocentrics’ Quatermass Studios in East London during January and February 2010, a fresh, freeform mix of Eastern arrangements, jazz and angular psychedelics. The recordings involved a number of ethnic instruments that Miller has played and studied throughout his career including the oud, Phonofiddle, Indian santur, Chinese shawm and wooden flute. Tracks include the reflective, yearning ‘Spiritual Jazz’, the cinematic ‘Electricone’ and ‘Lloyd’s Diatribe’ featuring a Miller sermon on impure music and the madness of our globalised existence.
Bahraini-British performer, Yazz Ahmed, is transforming what jazz means in 2017. This trumpet and flugelhorn-playing artist has worked with Radiohead and These New Puritans, experiments with electronic effects, and combines sounds from her shared heritage to author a new narrative for the genre. Part of the new wave of artists credited with stirring up the sound, including Kamasi Washington, Yussef Kamaal, Sons of Kemet and The Comet is Coming, Yazz Ahmed is thrilled by the possibilities of making something new. “I feel like I’m a part of modernising jazz and connecting it with audiences today,” Yazz says. “It’s exciting.”
Her new album ‘La Saboteuse’ is a deep exploration of both her British and Bahraini roots. Ably assisted by musicians including Lewis Wright on vibraphone, MOBO-winning new jazz kingpin Shabaka Hutchings on bass clarinet and Naadia Sherriff on Fender Rhodes keyboard, it’s composed of undulating rhythms, Middle Eastern melody and Yazz’s sonorous trumpet lines. The record sounds like the passage of a desert caravan, bathed in moonlight. The theme of ‘La Saboteuse’ is the sense of self-doubt that Yazz feels when she is creating, personified in a female saboteur, an anti-muse that spurs her into action. “Giving ‘her’ a name has really helped me to identify those negative voices we all get,” she says. “I know what it is and I know how to combat it.”
‘La Saboteuse’ will be released in four chapters incrementally, unravelling the story, before the full version is available. Each chapter has its own cover, with beautiful illustrations by Bristol artist Sophie Bass. “I feel really touched, nobody’s created art from my music before, it’s really special,” Yazz says.
Yazz spent her early childhood in Bahrain, her paternal homeland, before moving to London with her English mother at the age of nine. There, she became fascinated by her grandfather’s trumpet playing, and vowed to learn the instrument herself. “My grandfather, my mum’s dad, was a trumpet player, and I was quite taken by him, inspired. I wanted to learn the trumpet at school.” Jazz became her chosen form of expression, because “I loved the spirit of the music, the freedom. There’s a lot of joy, mystery. I connected with it”. Yazz’s sound is unique. Her take on jazz weaves in Arabic melodies to evocative, cinematic effect. “I love the sounds of Arabic music. The traditional folk singing is so heartfelt, elemental and passionate. I absorbed it as a child, but only in the past few years has it come to the surface in my playing and writing. I want to embrace my culture and my British jazz heritage, the music my grandfather played to me.”
Jazz has traditionally been a male-dominated sphere, though Yazz is challenging that notion. To start with she found it a hindrance, but has been empowered by a new wave of women musicians. “There are more female jazz musicians and attitudes are changing,” she says. “People see that women can play just as well as the men. But there are still areas that haven’t caught up with the rest of society. It’s getting better, but we can do more.”
Future-facing and fascinating, Yazz Ahmed is part of a glimmering new constellation in the jazz firmament. And her next project is destined to take her further into the stars. “I’m planning to write a piece inspired by the ever-changing structures of the universe,” she concludes.
“This album is a celebration of female courage, determination and creativity. In 2015, the Tomorrow’s Warriors commissioned me to write an extended work, to be performed by members of their Nu Civilisation Orchestra, for a concert at the Women of the World Festival, in London’s Southbank Centre, on International Women’s Day.
Whilst gathering ideas for my composition, I came across the character of Polyhymnia, the ancient Greek Muse of music, poetry and dance: a Goddess for the arts. Perhaps inspired by her, I conceived the form of a suite of movements, each dedicated to women of outstanding qualities, role models, with whom I felt a strong connection. Whereas La Saboteuse, the embodiment of my inner-destroyer and the catalyst for the creation of my last album, could be viewed as my anti-muse, maybe Polyhymnia herself became my Muse, inspiring an intense period of creativity, which resulted in the six pieces on this album.
Since its conception, composed and arranged over the six weeks leading up to the first rehearsal for the premiere, the music has evolved and expanded. During the recording process I began incorporating new elements and drawing on a wider pool of artists, including members of my own Hafla band, alongside some of my favourite musicians working on the London scene.
By sharing my musical response to the stories and achievements of these exceptional women, and celebrating the creativity and talents of my co-contributors, I hope to inspire others, in the words of Malala, “to be brave, to embrace the strength within themselves and realise their full potential” - Yazz Ahmed
Finding My Way Home is the debut release from British-Bahraini trumpet player, Yazz Ahmed.
The album is a collection of original compositions and improvisations, exploring the sounds and rhythms of Yasmeen’s Arabic heritage, revisiting memories from her early childhood in Bahrain. These are contrasted with pieces reflecting the classic British jazz from the 1950s and 60s, which was the soundtrack to her teenage years and was her gateway into improvised music.
Yazz’s Grandfather, Terry Brown, was a jazz trumpeter who played alongside Tubby Hayes, Ronnie Scott and as a member of the original John Dankworth Seven. He went on to become a successful record producer for Pye and Philips Records. Yazz picked up the trumpet inspired by the music and the stories that Terry shared with her.
Finding My Way Home also features the sublime talents of bass guitar virtuoso, Janek Gwizdala. Now widely regarded as one of the finest players in the world, Janek was actually a nineteen-year-old beginner on the trumpet when he and Yazz first met in the brass ensemble at the Merton Music Foundation. After a ten-year gap, their friendship was renewed, thanks to the power of Facebook. Noticing he would be visiting London during November 2008, Yazz asked Janek if he would be interested in recording a session of duets. Janek was delighted to accept, even though they had last played together when Yazz was just fourteen years old.
These intimate tracks, specially arranged for flugelhorn and bass guitar, recorded at the Cowshed in London, form the main body of the album. In addition to Yazz’s Affirmation, Stan Sulzmann’s Birthdays, Birthdays and the Miles Davis classic So What, the pair also recorded four spontaneous compositions, utilizing Arabic scales. These evocative and mysterious pieces, Embarkation, Al Muharraq, Birth of the Fool and Finding My Way Home, bind the album together but also become the vehicles for a musical journey of self-discovery.
Whist at the Guildhall School of Music and Drama, Yazz began writing for her first quintet. Two of her original compositions for this band, the poignant ballad, Conciliation and the Joe Henderson inspired Flip Flop, are performed here by Alam Nathoo tenor sax, John Bailey piano, Jay Darwish double bass and George Hart on drums.
Yazz also met Shabaka Hutchings while at the Guildhall. His bass clarinet playing is featured on Wah-Wah Sowahwah, the first of Yazz’s Arabic flavoured compositions, inspired by the session with Janek. The other musicians on this track are Simon Hale, playing Fender Rhodes, cellist, Chris Fish, Corrina Silvester - an expert in North African and Arabic hand drumming - and bass guitarist, Laurence Cottle.
The album closes with Finding My Way Home, which draws elements from the various recordings together to frame the most expansive of the improvised duets. The arc of this title track is a miniature version of the whole album. From the opening notes of the lone trumpet, crying out in the wilderness, it conjures images of a vast desert landscape and takes the listener on a sensuous journey. The caravan finally comes to rest at an oasis of cool calmness with Noel Langley’s orchestration, for the large ensemble, of Janek’s improvised coda, taken from the very first recording day.
Working on Finding My Way Home has inspired Yazz to form two new ensembles to reflect these recordings and the new compositions that have blossomed from this album. Ahmed’s new quintet had the pleasure of making their debut performance when opening the 2010 Brit Jazz Fest at Ronnie Scotts Jazz Club, London.
Subsequently the band received an array of positive reviews with Jazzwise Magazine highlighting Yazz’s flugelhorn playing and tipping her as a star of the future. Gary Crosby OBE includes Finding My Way Home in his top five releases of 2011.
Yazz Ahmed, hailed as one of the most influential trumpet players of her generation. An Ivor Novello award winning composer who makes sweeping epics that are rich with storytelling, depicting evocative ancient worlds and mythological muses. With her fourth studio album, A Paradise in the Hold, the British-Bahrani musician dives even deeper into her dual heritage and has come up with a treasure trove that draws on traditional music and stories from her childhood home. Ahmed writes for the voice for the first time, with lyrics inspired by Bahraini wedding poems and the yearning songs of the pearl divers. Deeply textural, expansive and full of potent performances, the album charts the heroic voyages of the jewel-hunters of yore, who sailed home through rough seas with precious cargo, and Ahmed’s own voyage of self-discovery over the past decade.
“A thread in my work has been searching for, establishing and, now, finally embracing and celebrating my cultural identity,” she says. Whereas she explored Arabian music more generally with her earlier material, this release is more explicitly linked to her homeland. “If my first album, 2011’s Finding My Way Home, represents the first steps on this path then with A Paradise In The Hold, I’ve arrived at a deeper understanding of how my British and Bahraini heritage can co-exist, in personal as well as musical terms.”
Ahmed began A Paradise in the Hold’s journey back in 2014, on a research trip in Bahrain, during her Jazzlines Fellowship. She’d trawl local bookshops looking for poems and lyrical inspiration. Many came from wedding songs, which were “a lot about beauty and connecting beauty with nature,” she says. Deepening her connection to the tradition, her grandfather even sang her some songs from his own wedding day. At the same time, she became fascinated by the celebratory music of women’s drumming circles and how they contrasted the work songs of the pearl divers. The latter dangerous pursuit has since ceased, though the divers’ sorrowful music – sung and clapped in a polyrhythmic style known as fijiri – lives on.
“They were songs that encouraged the fishermen to stay in good spirits, or songs about missing your loved ones,” says Ahmed. Some of the former pearl divers have formed choirs that tour around the Gulf and she caught a performance by the Pearl Divers of Muharraq, the name of her former hometown. “It gave me an opportunity to connect on a deeper level with the music that I grew up with as a child, but didn’t really embrace at the time.”
Ahmed grew up in Bahrain until the age of nine and lived there during the Gulf War in the early 90s. While she has happy memories of her childhood, many were overshadowed by conflict, like “having a gas mask and not being able to go to school. We went to school in people’s garages,” she says. “I remember the sirens going off when there was a bomb threat, and closing the curtains, turning off all the lights, and covering the plughole in the bathtub so no poisonous gases could get in.”
She moved to London with her mother and sisters in 1992 but says, “I felt like I didn’t quite belong and I didn’t know why that was. For a long time, I would lie about my heritage because of how Arab and Muslim people were represented in American films and British dramas. When I was at school, I never said that I was half Bahraini.” Music, however, helped to strengthen her sense of identity. She saw links between the jazz she studied at university and Arabian classical music, and started to learn Arabic. “I started to rediscover my mixed heritage,” she adds. “And that’s when I started to remember all this music that I grew up hearing but never fully engaged with.”
The fruits of Ahmed’s 2014 research trip became a 90-minute suite, Alhaan Al Siduri, which she performed the following year in both the UK and Bahrain. It’s named for the character Siduri from folk tale the Epic of Gilgamesh: “a wise woman who lives on an island of absolute beauty, which some scholars have suggested may be Bahrain,” Ahmed explains.
She has reworked the suite’s main theme into album opener ‘She Stands On The Shore’, which sets the tone for an inky odyssey through mermaids, goddesses, sirens and, on ‘Dancing Barefoot’, a runaway bride; and love, loss, new beginnings and a newfound freedom.
Ahmed has always been drawn to stories of women in mythology – her last album, 2019’s Polyhymnia, was based on the Greek goddess of poetry and dance – but this time she has wider intentions. “I want to change the narrative about Arab women,” says Ahmed. “A lot of people think that Arab women are just oppressed. But in Bahrain there are plenty of creative women trying to do something different in the world.” Ahmed notes how Arabic music has been stereotypically used in western entertainment and she wanted to challenge that perception. “We hear it a lot in movies to represent the desert, or poor villagers,” she says, “but you rarely see it representing strong women, for example.”
Alhaan Al Siduri formed the basis of Ahmed’s album but it has evolved ambitiously over the following decade, during performances both solo and with orchestras. She expanded tracks with intricate sound design and added multiple trumpet parts. “I learned to think of them as antiphonal, so you can hear them from different angles,” she says. “And so it feels like you’re surrounded by this very majestic instrument.” The album’s texture, meanwhile, also stems from the field recordings she used to form loops and patterns, a technique Ahmed expanded upon with the track she made for US TV network Adult Swim’s jazz compilation New Jazz Century. On A Paradise in the Hold, ‘Dancing Barefoot’ is particularly exquisite, where vibraphonist Ralph Wyld played milk bottle tops and used cello bows made from coat hangers, “to conjure the feeling of a mind spiralling into a dream,” says Ahmed. Equally visceral, on ‘To The Lonely Sea’ collaborator Jason Singh created a “vocal sculpture” to echo the wind and waves.
Notably, Ahmed hadn’t written for the voice until now. For A Paradise In The Hold, she penned lyrics in English, which she then translated to Arabic, or, on ‘Though My Eyes Go To Sleep My Heart Does Not Forget You’, adapted the words from a pearl divers’ standard. She worked with a range of impressive singers to bring her vision to life: Brigitte Beraha, Natacha Atlas, Randolph Matthews and Alba Nacinovich. The voice of her father, meanwhile, can be heard on standout track ‘Into The Night’, which lands you in the centre of a percussive hubbub and which Ahmed intended as a celebration of female independence. “He was trying to conduct the recording session in the family house,” she says of her dad. “Everyone was gathered in the sitting room and I recorded some of the ululations and clapping that you can hear in the track. I’m so glad I got to have my family on the album.”
The collaborators on the album in particular, percussionist Corrina Silvester and the greatly missed giant of the jazz world and Yazz’s dear friend, drummer, Martin France, helped Ahmed to strengthen the connection between the two worlds; A Paradise In The Hold is a bold fusion that reveals its riches more with each rewarding listen. “It’s another step in my evolution of making music,” says Ahmed. “There’s so much beauty in Bahraini music. I hope this album gives people a flavour of how vibrant its culture is.”
People believe that the magic of Muslimgauze works best with looong tracks. Think the same? Then "Al-Zulfiquar Shaheed" is exactly for you! 75 minutes of mellow eastern-style hypnotism. Consisting of only five parts, the album shows Bryn's ability to create lengthy and detailed compositions filled with Arabic percussion, droning keyboards, vocal samples and ethereal atmospheres.
A strong rhythmic, yet melodic album, that should be in the collection of every Muslimgauze fan. Definitely one of Bryn's best ever albums
The Handover
There is, and has been, a prevailing orthodoxy permeating the Egyptian musical hierarchy that would render this spectacular piece as scandalous. But let us remember that over the past 100 years, Said Darwish, Mohamed Abdel Wahab, Halim El Dabh, Ahmad Adaweya, and the modern Mahraganat movement have all experienced their fair share of scandal and opposition. Music must always be pushed forward – it may not always succeed as revelatory, but in this particular case, it does. Much like the venerable magic carpet, the Handover slowly builds to escort you into its swirling, ascending expression of the psychedelic, eventually descending, step by step, back to earth, landing as a wondrous spaceship with wide open doors inviting us inside for repeat listening. Perhaps this should have been happening in Egyptian music 50 years ago but it's here right now, and that's what matters. We are often asked an impossible question to answer: "What constitutes a Sublime Frequencies release?" For the moment, we can point to this record as the answer to that question.
- Alan Bishop/Sublime Frequencies (March 2024)
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In The Handover, Aly Eissa, Ayman Asfour and Jonas Cambien explore the common and uncommon senses of Egypt's ritual music. It is clear that Aly Eissa's original composition is deeply rooted in Egyptian and Arabic traditions. At the same time, this band is one of the most progressive coming out of Egypt today. This is in big part thanks to Eissa, who has proven time and again to be not only an extremely skillful composer, but also a real visionary, combining tradition with modern experimentation.
A performance by The Handover is typically one stretch without break: a long build-up that lasts for the duration of the concert. Towards the end of the performance, all the tension is released in an exuberant, joyful climax, when wild improvisations are driven forward on top of exciting dance-rhythms from rural Egypt. The Handover elegantly combines the delicacy of classical Arabic music, the raw expressiveness of Egypt's countryside music, and the spontaneity of free improvisation, carefully obliterating the artificial separation between acoustic and electronic instruments. Despite the remarkable absence of any percussion or drums, The Handover is an extremely groovy band, with an ability to slow down and accelerate the tempo in almost telepathic synchronization at exactly the right moments.
Alongside the tight ensemble playing there is plenty of room for individual expression as the oud, synthesizer and violin take turns playing solos on top of repetitive riffs. Throughout the album, native Alexandrian Ayman Asfour plays the violin with breathtaking beauty, while not being afraid to make the violin buzz, squeak and rattle at times. Belgian/Norwegian keyboardist Jonas Cambien makes the synthesizer a melodic instrument in its own right, at times evoking almost classical Maqam, while in other moments it seems like he comes straight out of an Egyptian wedding. The oud forms the backbone in the composition's structure, as Aly Eissa's solos guide the listener from minimalist, meditative drones, to a compelling climax, and back to earth.
There is much more to The Handover's sound then the obvious references to Arabic and Egyptian music. The opening drone section of the album is pushed towards abstraction and even noise, and the vintage Farfisa organ gives the music a touch of 70s psychedelic rock. The repetitive riffs can be reminiscent of Embryo's experiments combining krautrock with influences from the middle-east, but the use of repetition to induce trance dates way back in Egyptian music, and is present in many rituals like Sufi and moulid celebrations. The composed melodies on this album couldn't be possible without Eissa's deep love for this music. And what The Handover does with this composed material couldn't be possible without three strong individual voices, their love to play music together and their dedication to push the traditions forward.
(Recorded in Alexandria Egypt in January of 2023, this Limited-Edition vinyl LP includes a two-sided insert with additional photos, liner notes and bios of the musicians)
Tracklist:
Side A
1. The Handover (Part 1)
Side B
1. The Handover (Part 2)
Highlights:
1. The Handover is a trio consisting of: Aly Eissa, Ayman Asfour and Jonas Cambien
2. Influences of Arabic Classical, rural Egyptian music, psychedelic, Krautrock and free improvisation
3. Perhaps this should have been happening in Egyptian music 50 years ago.
4. Limited-Edition vinyl LP includes a two-sided insert with additional photos, liner notes and bios of the musicians.
Nancy Mounir’s debut album, Nozhet El Nofous, is a remarkable communion with ghosts. Moody, hypnotic, and sneakily catchy, the album – whose title means “Promenade of the Souls” in Arabic – explores microtonality, non-metered rhythms, and bold vulnerability through a musical dialogue between Mounir’s own arrangements and the sounds of archival recordings of once-famed singers from Egypt at the turn of the 20th century. Adding her own ambient arrangements over voices haunted with passion and desire as she creates a sound that is warmly familiar but utterly new.
On the album, Mounir slips into the gaps left by the lost frequencies of the aging recordings, finding space for counterpoint and harmony in a traditional sound built on monophony. Elegant melodies unfold in measured gestures as Mounir – who plays most of the instruments herself – revels in the plaintive intonations and brash lyrics of the departed singers. With layers enmeshed together, it’s at times hard to pin down when the past ends and the present begins, but beneath it all is a liberating attitude of defiance that feels timeless.
Nozhet El Nofous is brilliant in the way it explores the techniques and perspectives of a more freewheeling time period in Arabic music, before Arabic maqam (modal systems) and other musical foundations were standardized by the Middle East’s cultural power brokers in the early 1930s. As she summons a rich, atmospheric landscape of tone and texture, Mounir engages an older generation of musical rebels in a creative dialogue across time and space – and the results are stunning in their ambition and beauty.
Mixed by Adham Zidan. Mastered by Heba Kadry. Remastered for vinyl by Matt Bordin at Outside Inside Studio. Artwork by Egyptian filmmaker and photographer Ahmad Abdalla, with original typography and design by Salma Shamel. Lyrics translation by Katharine Halls. Co-produced with Simsara Records.
Warped and dragged through the murky underbelly of the Levantine underground comes ‘Volume 1’ the x-rated left-field debut from the pseudonymous DJ GAWAD.
Via pitched up vocals dripping with delay, DJ GAWAD takes us on a tour of the region's most urgent artists, his interjections oscillating between cocky boast and frustrated lament.
Through this new persona, DJ GAWAD pulls back the curtain to reveal himself as the protagonist of the mixtape-like album, as replete with features as it is with expletives, an enigmatic ghoul in the back of the studio with an endless supply of broken sample flips, giving the album its old school feel while still speaking to contemporary hip hop aesthetics.
A Jordanian/Palestinian Memphis gangster rap parody par excellence, the album is infused with satirical commentary on the state of the contemporary music scene, yet DJ GAWAD shows as much as he tells, expertly fashioning a sound that makes you wonder about the identity of the artist behind the braggadocious persona of the self-titled “best producer in the Middle East.”
Drawing heavily from the Memphis rap mixtapes of the mid 1990s, DJ GAWAD has clearly identified the same brooding atmosphere in his own surroundings. On Mat3’anish (feat. Bleng & Fara7) DJ GAWAD makes his most explicit reference to the Memphis sound, twisting the hallmark cowbells that defined that movement to reflect the equally raw nature of his own setting.
Similarly, in Bandana (feat. Jurum), DJ GAWAD finds the perfect tension between his romantic sampling tendencies and the brutal sensibilities of his featured artist. As if liberated by DJ GAWAD's anonymity and irreverence, his menagerie of artists appear to have been emboldened, embracing the obscene free naturedness of the album, setting their lyrical prowess free to wander.
No expense was spared in the post production treatment of DJ GAWAD’s debut, with Iraqi-American artist Mark Gergis incorporating the Nakamichi Dragon cassette deck in the mastering process, as is evidenced by the crisp saturation of the album's sonics.
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DJ GAWAD, the self-proclaimed “best producer in the Middle East”, is the pseudonymous persona of the Arab artist, pioneer, philosopher and lover. The anonymity grants him complete artistic freedom to pursue his creative endeavors in full. DJ GAWAD embarked on a journey from the West to the East to collaborate with local left-field rap artists in the region to produce this masterful debut, released on Drowned By Locals.
DJ GAWAD Presents: Volume 1 is his first feature album, and he will continue releasing more projects under this moniker. Stay tuned. <iframe style="border: 0; width: 350px; height: 472px;" src="https://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/album=548061551/size=large/bgcol=ffffff/linkcol=333333/artwork=none/transparent=true/" seamless><a href="https://drownedbylocals.bandcamp.com/album/dj-gawad-presents-volume-1">DJ GAWAD Presents: VOLUME 1 by DJ GAWAD</a></iframe>
"Zul'm" is an album of contrasts. It is evocative of a culture caught up in a web of local and global politics.
The narrative appears as a slice of urbanity - up tempo, carefree soundscapes of human activity interspersed with digitized spatial rhythms. The boundary between East and West coalesces, melding and jutting into a changing whole.
Muslimgauze are from Manchester, forming in the post-industrial early eighties. Theirs is a world music based on western rhythms, integrated with ethnic instruments and atmospheres. The music is a minimal, polyrhythmic soundscape. A vision of unresolved cultural change.
"Zul'm" sees a further step in the interaction of two very different nations, with guest musicians Said Nasser on Arabic percussion and voice and Zorawar Singh on Indian percussion and voice. Also appearing on the album is Mark Lawrence on keyboards.
The title "Zul'm" is derived from the name of the Muslim prophet "Zulkifl", meaning fate. The plight of the Palestinian people continues to inspire the music of Muslimgauze.
Original press release from Extreme.
The original tracks were perfectly remastered for this first time ever vinyl release and the new masters received high praise from the Extreme Music owner Roger Richards.
New sleeve designs were created by Oleg Galay, who is famous for his artworks for many Muslimgauze reissues.
All 4 album covers are made from extra heavy cardboard with deluxe spot UV finish and inside print.