MUSIC
7392 products
DINTE keep shelling Gary Sullivan’s killer picks with a survey of jiggy SE Asian hip hop to follow his ‘Bodega pop’ set of Arabic zingers: this one featuring an hour of late ‘90s, early ’00s rap and R&B from Vietnam, Thailand, Malaysia, Cambodia, Philippines, Myanmar and Indonesia...
“"While on a work trip to Chicago in the mid-2000s, I was craving a bowl of pho. A bit of sleuthing led me to hop on the red line “L” up to Argyle Street, ground zero of Chicago’s Little Saigon. In the 1960s, Chicago restaurateur Jimmy Wong invested in property on Argyle Street with a vision to build the city’s new Chinatown, a kind of mall with pagodas, trees, and reflecting pools. In 1971, the Hip Sing Association, a labor/criminal organization, established itself in the area, and along with Wong, they bought up 80% of the buildings on a three-block stretch of the street. Wong reportedly broke both hips in an accident, leaving his dream to wither; in 1979, Charlie Soo of the Asian American Small Business Association brought it back to life.
Soo expanded the area into a vibrant mix of Chinese, Vietnamese, and other Southeast Asian
businesses, pushing for renovations, including an Argyle station facelift and the Taste of Argyle festival. At the time I exited the station and crossed the street to get a better look at a shop with a poster for A Vertical Ray of the Sun in the window, the area was home to some 37,000 Vietnamese residents.
Opening the door, I was gobsmacked by a cavernous Southeast Asian media store, bigger than any I’d been to in Dallas, Montreal, New York, or Seattle. I spent some time at the bins, pulling out collections by some of my then-favorite singers — Giao Linh, Khánh Ly, Phương Dung — before approaching the register to ask the young woman behind the counter if the they carried any Vietnamese rap. It was a longshot, I knew, but if such a thing existed on physical media and anyone carried it, it would be this place.
‘Have you heard Vietnamese rap?’ she replied, her tone of voice and facial expression betraying a comically exaggerated level of distaste. I admitted my ignorance but assured her that I had long cultivated a high threshold for cheesy pop music of all kinds and genuinely tended to like hip hop from around the world.
She rolled her eyes and pointed to an area I had missed. I walked toward a far corner of the store and knelt over a small box on the floor sparsely populated with CDs, VCDs, and cassettes. I pulled out half a dozen Vietnamese hip hop compilations and a strange-looking CD with a cavalcade of odd typefaces in a queasy multitude of colors: THAILAND RAP HIT, it boasted, with 泰國 “燒香" 勁歌金曲 below it. The information on the back provided an address in Kuala Lumpur and the titles in Thai and English translation. The first track included three simplified Chinese characters after the English-language version of the title, “The Chinese Association”: 自己人.
WTF was going on here? Walking back to the register, I waved the CD, asking “What’s up with this one?” She gave me a look. I placed it on the counter so she could bask in the cover’s full glory. She shrugged. “I’m guessing it’s Thai rap?” She looked disappointed in me when I said I’d take it.
It turned out to be a Malaysian pressing of half-Chinese Thai hip hop artist Joey Boy’s third album, Fun Fun Fun from 1996, and it completely changed my sense what the genre could sound like. The rapper’s self-assured, effortless, silly-but-cool rapid-fire delivery weaved in and out of the most bizarre, antic beats I’d ever heard. The six Vietnamese hip hop CDs were a mixed bag, mostly “serious” sounding mimicry of US rapping over predictable production, but the highs were very high. When I got home and listened to it all, I made a point to find as much hip hop from this part of the world as I could.
The tracks collected here provide a limited but potent reflection of the two-decade ascendency
and ultimate world-takeover of hip hop, as it displaced rock and its endless variants for millions of listeners. This not a fair and balanced overview of regional production: I’ve only included tracks from Cambodia, Indonesia, Myanmar, Philippines, Thailand, and Vietnam. Nor is this a biggest or most important artists collection; instead, I’ve tried to recapture the pure visceral thrill of that first time I heard Joey Boy, choosing bangers that sound like nothing else, from nowhere else."
—Gary Sullivan”
Ten years after it was originally released, billy woods' sprawling fifth album - a claustrophobic road movie that chews over war, death and disappointment - finally gets a new lease of life.
The timing's great on this one, that's for sure. woods' 'GOLLIWOG' seems like a shoo in for album of the year, so what better time to dig up one of his best deep catalog offerings? 'Today, I Wrote Nothing' wasn't an easy sell at the time; it'd appeared shortly after 'Dour Candy', the rapper's celebrated collaboration with Blockhead, and 'Race Music', his first Armand Hammer album, but didn't just retread the same territory. Where 'Dour Candy' was tight and direct, 'Today, I Wrote Nothing' was sketchy and experimental, a collection of 24 eclectic ideas and asides rapped over dusty, jazz-inflected beats, ghosted soul samples and creaky field recordings. In many ways, it makes more sense now after albums like 2022's 'Aethiopes' and 'GOLLIWOG' have prepared listeners for woods' sharp, philosophical tongue and salty taste in beats.
Just check the Willie Green-produced 'Sleep' with its El-P-cum-BoC synths and rickety rhythms, or the Wire-sampling 'Scales', that skips from Shakespearean "murder-by-numbers" to a psychedelic instrumental workout. "Gas station, vacuum, rental car," woods slurs over a truncated loop of Captain Beefheart's 'White Jam', recounting a long, dangerous drug run. "Back in the back of the bar, demons spar." You can practically taste the blund smoke and gasoline as woods motors from place to place, spinning country in cheap motels on 'Bicycles' and trading macabre anecdotes around the campfire on the vaudeville 'True Stories'. Basically, if you've only heard 'GOLLIWOG', this'll be an easy second step into woods' vast canon.
Did You Enjoy Your Time Here…? is the new studio album from Backwoodz Studioz artist PremRock (perhaps best known as ½ of ShrapKnel; the sobering yin to Curly Castro’s furious yang). DYEYTH picks up where Prem’s pensive Backwoodz debut, 2021’s Load Bearing Crow’s Feet, left off; clear-eyed, heartfelt, and unsparingly witty. The album boasts production from Sebb Bash, Blockhead, YUNGMORPHEUS, Child Actor, Controller 7, ELUCID, Small Professor, Jeff Markey, & Fines Double while Prem’s longtime collaborator Willie Green weaves everything together. Lyrically Prem is aided and abetted by some of the world’s best, Pink Siifu, billy woods, Cavalier, Nappy Nina, Illogic, AJ Suede, Mary Esther Carter and of course Castro. Each guest extracts the best out of the mixture and producing fruitful collaborations not merely guest verses. Featuring original artwork inspired by the record from Chicago artist Gabe Karagianis. The best turns of phrase are the ones that provide more than one meaning. Like staring at an abstract painting, words can mean different things to different people. A question or phrase that either elicits an extended existential pondering or simply a shrug. Could be in reference to the entirety of one’s life, spending 90 minutes in an establishment or 5 years in a romantic relationship.The brief exhilarating high of a designer drug, or the automated survey at the end of an online transaction. It is a simple but stealthily loaded question. Well, did you?
Backwoodz Studioz is excited to announce a new album from Kenny Segal and K-the-I??? Genuine Dexterity is the title of this record, but it is also an equally apt description of their artistic skill sets; Kenny’s ability to tailor his production to each project is well established, and K-the-I???’s acrobatic style easily renders dense rhymes weightless. Together they have made an album that pogo sticks over genre conventions to deliver a daring and immersive listening experience. “Genuine Dexterity is an album made in order to display my many facets, whether it be my mood, growth or the adventures that formulate my present-day outlook,” the rapper explains, “Letting everything come naturally to me and to never force the envelope. It’s also about the direction the universe is heading towards whether I like it or not” Rapper/Producer Kiki Ceac, best known by his stage name K-the-I???, was at the forefront of the mid-00’s experimental hip-hop wave that laid the groundwork for much of the alternative rap music that followed. Originally from Cambridge, Massachusetts, Kiki moved to Los Angeles around the same time that fellow East Coast transplant Kenny Segal was beginning to make noise under the Project Blowed umbrella. Despite moving in the same circles for many years, they had never worked together until Genuine Dexterity- which, ironically enough, came about after Kiki moved back to the East Coast. “Sometimes a vocalist will just spark a whole wave of creativity in me, and that’s what happened with Kiki,” Segal says, “last year I sent him two beats to use on a different album and when he sent the songs back it was obvious we had something special and needed to do more” Genuine Dexterity features Armand Hammer, Open Mike Eagle, ShrapKnel, Fatboi Sharif, Self Jupiter, and Jesse the Tree but K-the-I??? is the undisputed ringmaster of this circus. It has been a decade since Kiki’s last album and yet he has returned to the game at the height of his powers. He has always been an unorthodox lyricist and remains so here, but in his time away from the spotlight, his style has grown in many ways. “Maybe I’m calmer nowadays, I don’t feel the need to ALWAYS shout like I used to. My vocabulary has grown, and my flow is more polished,” Kiki writes, before adding that one thing that has not changed is the intricacy of his writing. Meanwhile, Kenny Segal’s customized soundscapes whisk Kiki’s styles to places they haven’t been before, and he never fails to find a pocket in which to ply his craft. Genuine Dexterity, if you will.
Kendra Morris returns with Next, her fourth full-length of original material and a vibrant departure into rawer, more immediate territory. Co-produced with Leroi Conroy of Colemine Records, the album was recorded using vintage gear in Loveland, Ohio, tracked through a Tascam 388 for a warm, tactile sound that favours grit over gloss. Featuring contributions from Jimmy James (Parlor Greens, Delvon Lamarr Organ Trio) and Ray Jacildo (The Black Keys, Jr. Thomas & The Volcanos), Next unfolds like a lo-fi concept album in reverse, drawing inspiration from old board games and the DIY spirit of retro television. Across ten tracks, Morris blends doo-wop, boom-bap, and rocksteady into a pastiche of New York nostalgia, where Brill Building songcraft and Warholian aesthetics share the same sonic real estate. It's a cut-and-paste world soundtracked by an artist equally at home behind the lens as she is behind the mic—imperfect, imaginative, and full of heart.
California and New York aren't the only US cities to have pioneered underground hip-hop over the years. Back in the nineties, southern states such as Memphis, Tennessee were also hotbeds for the fast evolving musical phenomenon. As we push on into the second millenium; from the swathes of short-run, tape-only releases that came out in the 1990's, some are at last being cut to vinyl. Shawty Pimp and the Big Pimpin' Productions crew were brought to international ears in 2014 when his album 'Comin' Real Wit It' was pressed to vinyl and sold out in the blink of an eye. Gyptology Records (a new Europe-based Hip-Hop and Egyptian Archaology styled re-issue label) now present a vinyl pressing of the 1995 sequel; 'Still Comin' Real'. Here are eleven original, raw rap cuts, remastered and restored with love. Available June 2018 for the first time in the format that never goes out of style. Vinyl only for now and in one short-run only, no represses. Produced with the full consent and participation of the artists.
In the vibrant streets of Tembisa, South Africa, amidst the sprawling urbanity connecting Johannesburg and Pretoria, the story of Moskito began. Formed in 2001 by Mahlubi “Shadow” Radebe and the late Zwelakhe “Malemon” Mtshali, the group first emerged as a powerhouse of pantsula dancers. However, their undeniable passion for music soon led them down a new path—one that would cement their place in kwaito history. Spending countless hours on the street corners of their township, where they were born and raised, Shadow and Malemon danced and sang with an infectious energy that attracted crowds. It wasn’t long before the duo decided to channel their talents into a kwaito group, and after adding friends Patrick Lwane and Menzi Dlodlo, Moskito was born.
(Pantsula dancing emerged in the 1950s among Black South Africans in townships and continually evolved until it became intertwined with kwaito music culture. The stylized, rapid foot movements and characteristic low-dancing became associated with kwaito as it took over South African urban culture into the early 2000s.)
With limited resources, the group displayed immense creativity, recording demos using two cassette decks and instrumental tracks from other artists. They would rap and sing over an instrumental playing on one deck while the second deck records their performance. Their determination paid off when they submitted their demo to Tammy Music Publishers, who were captivated by Moskito’s style.
“Kwaito was the thing ‘in’ at the time. If you did music you did kwaito. We wanted to fit in and actually it was easy,” says Radebe. “We didn’t have engineers in the group, so the first time in a real studio was with Percy and Thami to record Idolar.”
That same year, the group released their debut album, Idolar, under Tammy Music. The album was an undeniable success reaching gold status selling over 25,000 units and earning them a devoted fan base across South Africa and neighboring countries like Botswana, Swaziland, Namibia and Zimbabwe. Moskito collaborated with industry legends such as Chilly Mthiya Tshabalala, who was known for his work with Thiza and Spoke ”H.” They drew inspiration from Thami Mdluli a.k.a Professor Rhythm, who had dominated the disco scene back in the 80s and 90s. Mdluli helped with musical arrangements and executive produced the album and signed on producer-engineer Percy Mudau, while Shadow and Malemon took pride in composing most of their songs. Like many of the rising kwaito artists of the time, they didn’t have music production or engineering backgrounds so they required support from engineers together their ideas down on tape.
They were inspired by South African kwaito icons like Trompies, Mdu, Mandoza, and Arthur Mafokate, alongside international heavyweights like Snoop Doggy Dogg, Dr. Dre, 2Pac, and R. Kelly, Moskito created a sound that was uniquely theirs—a perfect blend of local flavor and global influence.
A Tribe Called Quest's masterpiece album, The Low End Theory, featuring “Check The Rhime,” “Jazz (We Got),” and “Scenario,” is available on a limited edition Record Store Day color vinyl with green and red splatter. This is the first time this album has been released on color vinyl outside of the US.
A Tribe Called Quest was formed in 1988 by four members: MCs Q-Tip, Phife Dawg, and Phife (who passed away in 2016), and DJ Ali Shaheed. Along with the Jungle Brothers and De La Soul, they were called “Native Tongue” and created a new trend in hip hop called “New School.” They are a representative group of the golden age of hip hop in the 90s. This is their third album, released in 1993. Without sticking to the jazzy hip-hop style of their previous album, they returned to sampling and produced catchy hits such as “Oh My God,” “Award Tour,” and “Electric Relaxation.” This masterpiece is said to be the pinnacle of 90s hip-hop, which was mainly based on sampling.
- Double LP including both Pinball I & Pinball II
- Gatefold jacket
The first analog version of the classic hip-hop jam album released in 2005 by Pardon Kimura and KILLER-BONG, the head of BLACK SMOKER RECORDS, is now available for the first time.
In the vibrant streets of Tembisa, South Africa, amidst the sprawling urbanity connecting Johannesburg and Pretoria, the story of Moskito began. Formed in 2001 by Mahlubi “Shadow” Radebe and the late Zwelakhe “Malemon” Mtshali, the group first emerged as a powerhouse of pantsula dancers. However, their undeniable passion for music soon led them down a new path—one that would cement their place in kwaito history. Spending countless hours on the street corners of their township, where they were born and raised, Shadow and Malemon danced and sang with an infectious energy that attracted crowds. It wasn’t long before the duo decided to channel their talents into a kwaito group, and after adding friends Patrick Lwane and Menzi Dlodlo, Moskito was born.
(Pantsula dancing emerged in the 1950s among Black South Africans in townships and continually evolved until it became intertwined with kwaito music culture. The stylized, rapid foot movements and characteristic low-dancing became associated with kwaito as it took over South African urban culture into the early 2000s.)
With limited resources, the group displayed immense creativity, recording demos using two cassette decks and instrumental tracks from other artists. They would rap and sing over an instrumental playing on one deck while the second deck records their performance. Their determination paid off when they submitted their demo to Tammy Music Publishers, who were captivated by Moskito’s style.
“Kwaito was the thing ‘in’ at the time. If you did music you did kwaito. We wanted to fit in and actually it was easy,” says Radebe. “We didn’t have engineers in the group, so the first time in a real studio was with Percy and Thami to record Idolar.”
That same year, the group released their debut album, Idolar, under Tammy Music. The album was an undeniable success reaching gold status selling over 25,000 units and earning them a devoted fan base across South Africa and neighboring countries like Botswana, Swaziland, Namibia and Zimbabwe. Moskito collaborated with industry legends such as Chilly Mthiya Tshabalala, who was known for his work with Thiza and Spoke ”H.” They drew inspiration from Thami Mdluli a.k.a Professor Rhythm, who had dominated the disco scene back in the 80s and 90s. Mdluli helped with musical arrangements and executive produced the album and signed on producer-engineer Percy Mudau, while Shadow and Malemon took pride in composing most of their songs. Like many of the rising kwaito artists of the time, they didn’t have music production or engineering backgrounds so they required support from engineers together their ideas down on tape.
They were inspired by South African kwaito icons like Trompies, Mdu, Mandoza, and Arthur Mafokate, alongside international heavyweights like Snoop Doggy Dogg, Dr. Dre, 2Pac, and R. Kelly, Moskito created a sound that was uniquely theirs—a perfect blend of local flavor and global influence.
“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.
#showbusiness all of my love and gratitude towards my big beautiful family. I wouldn’t be able to do none of this without my mama, everything is dedicated to her. Big thanks to my papa for always trying to motivate me to do better and for showing me growth is forever! N for my new lil brobro Zi! 1 more Libra in the world makes it a better place. Thank you to my sisters for always being the best sisters a brother can have. Encouraging me endless nights and day, trying to always re-familiarize me with the sparkle of life. Biggest love to my nieces for being such a source of joy in my life, and always making me the proudest uncle. Biggest love and thanks to my big brother Naavin aka the real backbone to everything we got goin on. Thank you for never giving up no matter how it looks. You’ve changed so many peoples lives with your care and admiration for music. As well as with your loyalty and love you show to us all on the daily, thank you bro. I can never take this for granted! Thank you to my big brother Abraham, for all the same things, and helping bring these whimsical ideas to real life! Real years we put into doing what we actually wanted to and look how its turning out;) Biggest love to all my family at GW for all the work and love you guys have invested ;);) biggest love to AK47 aka Anysia Kym the goat, my big sis! Every slap up sesh we end up making a new genre of heat, thank you for your friendship and love always!! Also for goin dumb on the what u bouta do beat!!!!! Real #Emoters !!super thanks 2 da family Thelonius London & Jacob Rochester, 2 producers I’ve been a big fan of for a long time!! Thank yall for believing in me! Biggest thanks to duendita, forreal an artist of the century! Such a miraculous voice, glad 2 have ran it up again twin! Love you always!! Biggest thanks 2 my brother L-boy, Laron, producer prodigy, have known about bro since I WAS in high-school, like high waters type shit. Bro you are literally the best, it’s all yours! Biggest thanks 2 my brudda 454 for that godsent verse on what u bouta do! Grateful to have met u n ran it up across the map witcha twin! Another #aotc. Big thanks 2 my bradda Shungu for the slaps! Real life legend, been listening since I was younger, real full circle. Thank U 2 my twin Raine always for trying to motivate me and make sure I do mo self loving. Biggest thanks 2 my bradda Harrison #sgb! Biggest love & thanks to all my rap camp bruddas, my nigga thebe, Niontay, Tony, Haile, besides da rap shit yall forreal teach me everyday how to improve as man and that shit means the world. I can’t wait to share it all with yall, love yall forever! Biggest thanks 2 salami rose Joe Louis, ever since I’ve found out about ur music, I’ve been addicted n it really helped a lot last year! Thank u for contributing 2 dis project ;)) Super big thanks 2 my brudda Venna, modern day jazz Legend! Came thru so clutch wit da last minute sax, which really gave the album some depth! Thank you always bro! Biggest love to my bruddas across seas, Marky Mark William Lewis & ma bwooy Jespfur! Appreciate u guys always and miss ya! REDLEE! Thank you for being another big brother to me when a young nigga fr needed guidance!!! Thank you for always pushing me musically as well! N also for introducing me to all the homies that are now basically my blood family in UK!! Big love 2 my big sis Faith for always lending an ear to the 5000 diff iterations of the project! N for being such a good friend 2 me! Biggest love n thanks 2 my Puerto Rican cousins Sha & Matt for all the talks and hardworking that went towards the art for the project. That shit truly means the world fam! Thank you 2 the homies Nicholas & Ryosuke for bringing these songs 2 the real world and allowing other people to live in them. Biggest love 2 my twin Misako 2 for saving my life last year! Big love 2 my whole Japan squad #ACAB Biggest love 2 my whole Aussie squad too! YALL inspired the fuck outta me! Biggest love to Tzadi for the amazing artwork, for my music to be attached to something that looks so grand and special like that means the world to me. Biggest love 2 my fam at Astor club for keeping ya boy above ground literally. Biggest thanks n love 2 ma bwoy Gabe for the amazing mix on dis jawn!!!!! Ik it look fun but it aint! Ik there’s way more ppl I should prolly shout out
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.
(Clear vinyl with Japanese obi) While the previous album was a huge success as a work representing the year 2021, this album, "NO THANK YOU," shows that Little Sims, aka Simbiatu Azikawo, now 28 years old, does not care about such success and sticks to his own convictions. This is a demonstration of his attitude. The songs are glossy, straightforward, and powerful, and are truly punk, giving the middle finger to the fame and expectations that come with success, the conformity required, and all the limitations that come with it. Working with Inflow again, this is Little Sims' most free, bold, and spontaneous work to date.
Also available is "On Stage Off Stage," a 40-minute documentary on the band's latest tour! The film is a spectacular film that includes not only the live performance, but also off-shot footage of Little Sims enjoying tennis on their days off, interviews with the staff who support Little Sims' activities, and the moment "NO THANK YOU" was released without notice.
Growing up in Uganda, multi-disciplinary artist Ian Nnyanzi (aka Masaka Masaka) always knew he wanted to make music, he just needed enough time and breathing room to figure out what exactly his contribution had to be. He cut his teeth fashioning rudimentary hip-hop beats at a friend's studio on Makindye, a hill that overlooks Kampala's balmy Murchison Bay, and quickly realized that he wanted more. "Out here, everyone seems okay to listen to the same thing," he explains, and Nnyanzi wasn't interested in following the crowd. During regular commutes across the city, his mind was being cracked open by sounds from Dean Blunt, Slauson Malone, Arca, Jpegmafia and Vegyn; he knew he needed to show Kampala something similarly distinct.
'Barely Making Much' is a sprawling, ambitious album that's as sculptural as it is explorative, reaching through genre membranes and refusing to stay still for a second. Masaka Masaka wrote it over a fragmented two year period at Nyege Nyege's Kampala studio, and tapped into a jumble of interconnected sounds, from jungle and experimental hip-hop to techno and smoked-out, dubwise ambient music. He was particularly absorbed by the loose, open-minded production style he heard from Manchester's Sockethead, who makes an appearance on 'Before I go', a frayed tapestry of stuttering snares and floury breaks that billows into jazzy euphoria.
On 'cut right through', Masaka Masaka bends fictile piano hits through a lattice of Afro-Brazilian-style vocal chops, trap hi-hat rolls and serrated, synthesized bass thumps. Airy and energetic, the track makes an unexpected left turn when the hats transform into insectoid rasps that cushion a woody hand drum patter. Elsewhere, Nnyanzi isn't afraid to go straight for the jugular: on 'elv9t' he sets atmospheric, back room pads against booming, soundsystem-ready Southern rap subs, and on the kinetic 'let me out', he remolds hard techno in his image, knocking the 4/4 kick off grid to perplex seasoned dancers, and hammering the nail in further with swirling, psychedelic synth fuzz.
Even when Masaka Masaka's working in a more contemplative mode - like on the hypnotic title track and the fragile cinematic finale 'it's okay to dance alone' - he maintains the momentum, swirling otherworldly vocal loops and erratic percussion into pools of melted ambience. 'Barely Making Much' is a charming, hyperactive debut that wears its influences on its sleeve, playing like a lysergic, literate mixtape packed with layers and subtle gestures. Cool-headed and mysterious, it exposes the twilit side of the Kampala underground.
