MUSIC
6359 products
“When the mbira is played, it brings the two worlds together, the world of our ancestors and the world of today.” Ephat Mujuru (1950-2001)
Ephat Mujuru exemplifies a unique generation of traditional musicians in Zimbabwe. Born under an oppressive colonial regime in Southern Rhodesia, his generation witnessed the brutality of the 1970s liberation struggle, and then the dawn of independent Zimbabwe, a time in which African music culture—long stigmatized by Rhodesian educators and religious authorities—experienced a thrilling renaissance.
Ephat was raised in traditional Shona culture in a small rural village in Manicaland, near the Mozambique border. His grandfather and primary caretaker, Muchatera Mujuru, was a respected spirit medium, and master of the mbira dzavadzimu, a hand-held lamellophone used in Shona religion to make contact and receive council from deceased ancestors. There are many lamellophones in Africa, but none with the musical complexity and spiritual significance of the mbira dzavadzimu. Ephat’s first memories were of elaborate ceremonies, called biras that featured all-night music and dancing, millet beer, the sacrifice of oxen and a profound experience of connecting with ancestors. Under the tutelage of his grandfather, Ephat showed an early talent for the rigors of mbira training, playing his first possession ceremony when he was just ten years old.
But from the moment he entered school, Ephat experienced Rhodesian racism and cultural oppression. Nuns at his Catholic school told him that to play the mbira was “a sin against God.” Enraged by this, Ephat’s grandfather sent him to school in an African township near the capital of Salisbury (present-day Harare). By then, guerilla war was engulfing the country and Muchatera tragically became a victim of the violence, a devastating blow to the young musician. Lonely and alienated in the city, Ephat reached out to other mbira masters—Mubayiwa Bandambira, Simon Mashoko and an “uncle” Mude Hakurotwi.
In 1972 Ephat formed his first group, naming it for one of the most beloved Shona ancestors, Chaminuka. In the midst of the liberation struggle, mbira music became political. Singer and bandleader Thomas Mapfumo began interpreting mbira songs with an electric dance band, creating chimurenga (loosely “struggle”) music, named for the independence fighters.
Ephat and Chaminuka had their first success with the single “Guruswa.” Ephat once recalled, “We were talking about our struggle to free ourselves,” explained Ephat. “In ancient Africa, in the time of our ancestors, they had none of the problems we have today.” The problems he spoke of—subjugation, cultural oppression and mass poverty—were purely the results of colonization. “We wanted the place to be like it was, before colonization.”
The Rhodesians were defeated, but rather than return to the past, the nation of Zimbabwe was born and a new future unfolded. Ephat threw himself into the spirit of independence, helping to found the National Dance Company of Zimbabwe and becoming the first African music instructor at the formerly all-Western Zimbabwe College of Music. Ephat renamed his band Spirit of the People and recorded his first album in 1981, using only mbira, hand drums, hosho and singers. He sang of brotherhood, healing, and unity: crucial themes during a time when the nation’s two dominant ethnic groups, the Shona and the Ndebele, were struggling to reconcile differences.
Ephat’s band would eventually follow the popular trend and add electric instruments. But before that, he and Spirit of the People released two all-acoustic albums, and they may well be the most exciting and beautiful recordings he made in his career. Mbavaira, the second of these albums, was released in 1983. The title itself is not easy to translate. A Shona speaker with deep cultural knowledge observed that he could not find an exact English counterpart, but that it was “something like ‘chaos.’”
Mbavaira came out on Gramma Records, the country’s only label at the time. Gramma was still finding its way in a vastly changed music market. Guitar bands were ascendant and lots of new talent was emerging. As the independence years moved on, there would be fewer and fewer commercial mbira releases. But for the moment, Ephat had the required stature and reputation. Also, with the energy and drive we hear in these recordings, the album could easily rival the pop music of its day.
Ephat had long since mastered a large repertoire of traditional mbira songs and developed his own approach to arranging them. He had also become a gifted composer, although, with mbira music, it is often hard to draw a clear line between arranging and composing. Certain mbira pieces are like the 12-bar blues form or the “I Got Rhythm” changes in jazz: one can always create a new song from the existing template. But when you listen to Ephat’s feisty refrain on the song “Kwenda Mbire” (“Going to Mbire”), you just know it came from him. Ephat was a small, almost elfin, man, but he had the most exuberant personality and it comes through with particular clarity on that track.
An mbira ensemble typically uses at least two mbiras, playing separate interlocking parts so that it can be difficult to tell who is playing what. The sound becomes one. The only required percussion is the gourd rattle called hosho. It plays a very specific triplet rhythm and it has to be strong and solid to ensure that the mbira parts line up perfectly. Otherwise, the spirit will not come! The call-and-response vocals are also distinctive, a mix of hums and cries and melodic refrains, often punctuated by joyous ululations.
The tonality of a song like “Mudande” is moody, even a little dark. But the melodies that emerge have a remarkable way of turning wistfulness into merriment. The song title means “in Dande,” Dande being a remote northern region in Zimbabwe known for its inhospitable climate and deeply entrenched traditional culture.
Mbira is a healing music. Ephat once recalled, “When I was with Bandambira and Simon Mashoko, I was very surprised at what really made them happy. My grandfather was a very happy person. They had respect.” Ephant contrasted this happiness with the sour demeanor of the whites who condescended to him in Salisbury in his youth. “Somebody who wants to suppress another person is very unhappy.”
Within a few years after the release of Mbavaira, it and albums like it became harder to find in Zimbabwean record stores. Ephat adapted to the times and formed an electric band. “People were surprised,” he recalled. “They said, ‘Are you not going to play your mbira the way you did before?’ I said, I haven't changed anything. It's like me learning Shona and English, or French or Japanese. It's adding to the knowledge. The old one doesn't go away. When you buy a new jacket, you don't throw the old one away.” And indeed, when he began frequenting the UK and the United States, he would record more, mostly acoustic, albums.
But none of them have the particularly delicious energy of Spirit of the People in the first years of Zimbabwe’s independence. The final track on Mbavaira is a popular Shona hunting song, “Nyama Musango,” literally “Meat in the forest.” As elsewhere, Ephat does not sing the lead, leaving that role to his razor-voiced uncle, Mude Hakurotwi, with his mastery of timbres and rich repertoire of traditional vocables.
It was a tragedy to lose Ephat in 2001. He died from a heart attack shortly after landing at Heathrow Airport, en route to teach and perform in the U.S.. No doubt, he had much more to offer, for as he liked to say, “Mbira is like a sea. It's not a small river. You are getting into the big sea. So I try to show them the Indian Ocean, the Pacific, the Atlantic. What I'm trying to bring now to this music, through all the experiences I've had, is unity.” True unity has been difficult to achieve in Zimbabwe, given its combative history, but if anything could do the trick, this music might be the thing.
Banning Eyre
Senior Producer for Afropop Worldwide


The third in Strut’s Inspiration Information studio collaboration series brings together an intriguing pairing between one of Africa’s great bandleaders, Mulatu Astatke, with the next level musicianship of The Heliocentrics collective from the mighty roster of Stones Throw / Now Again.
Known primarily through the successful ‘Ethiopiques’ album series and the film soundtrack to Jim Jarmusch’s ‘Broken Flowers’, Mulatu Astatke is one of Ethiopia’s foremost musical ambassadors. Informed by spells living and studying in the UK and the USA, his self-styled Ethio-jazz sound flourished during the “Swinging Addis” era of the late ‘60s as he successfully fused Western jazz and funk with traditional Ethiopian folk melodies, five tone scale arrangements and elements from music of the ancient Coptic church.
The Heliocentrics have become known as one of the UK’s foremost free-thinking collectives of musicians, inspired by a wide palette covering Sun Ra, James Brown, David Axelrod and all manner of psych, Afro and Eastern sounds. Now a fixture within the Stones Throw / Now Again roster, they forged their own genre-breaking directions in the astral analogue groove on their 2007 debut album, ‘Out There’.
“ It’s like going back to the feel of the ‘60s, it really feels like that,” explains Mulatu. “There’s a new composition, ‘Cha Cha’, and ‘Dewel’, heavily influenced by an Ethiopian Coptic Church composer called Yard. The band took it and added what they feel. It’s a nice experiment.”

Shivkumar Sharma, the guitarist Brij Bhushan Kabra, and flutist Hariprasad Chaurasia were all aged about 30 when they made Call of the Valley. Shivkumar Sharma, who had made his first solo album in 1960, was responsible for establishing and popularizing the instrument in Hindustani classical circles. Kabra was also having to prove himself because of the guitar's Western and Indian popular music associations Chaurasia's problem was the wide popularity of the bansuri -- a bamboo transverse flute -- and his need to establish himself with the instrument. In 1967, the concept behind this album was as revolutionary as it was traditional. Conceived as a suite, they used their instruments to tell the story of a day in the life of a shepherd in Kashmir using ragas associated with various times of the day to advance the dramatic narrative. If the newcomer buys only one Indian classical recording, it should be Call of the Valley. Call of the Valley is considered Kabra's most beloved recording. It is certainly his most popular globally. Newly remastered for this edition. Limited edition pressing.




The acclaimed and highly sought-after LP by Hailu Mergia and the Walias, Tche Belew, an album of instrumentals released in 1977, is perhaps the most seminal recording released in the aftermath of the 1974 revolution. The story of the Walias band is a critical chapter in Ethiopian popular music, taking place during a period of music industry flux and political complexity in the country. Hailu Mergia, a keyboardist and arranger diligently working the nightclub scene in Addis Ababa, formed the Walias in the early 1970’s with a core group of musicians assembled from prior working bands. They played Mergia’s funk- and soul-informed tunes, while cutting 45rpm singles with various vocalists. While the Walias performed at top hotels and played the presidential palace twice, their relationship with the Derg regime was complex, evidenced by the removal of one song from the record by government censors. Decades later, Hailu Mergia was surprised to see the album fetching more than $4,000 at online auctions (it helped that the most popular of all Ethiopian tunes “Musicawi Silt” appeared on the record). Now everyone has the chance to listen again―or for the first time―to this timeless pillar of Ethiopian popular music.
From the late 1960s until the early 1990s, a vibrant music scene in Somalia’s capital Mogadishu was teeming with pop and folk musicians exploring the boundaries of regional sensibilities. With influences spanning several genres of Somali traditional music, often meshed with Western pop, jazz and Middle-Eastern elements, a swirling diversity of sounds were being created, consumed, supported and encouraged.
Dur-Dur Band emerged during a time when Somalia’s distinctive contribution to the creative culture in the Horn of Africa was visible and abundant. Thousands of recordings made at the Somali National Theatre, Radio Mogadishu and other studios, were complemented by the nightclubs at Hotel Juba, Jazeera Hotel and Hotel al-Curuuba, creating a flourishing music scene.
Bands like Dur-Dur, Iftin, Shareero, on one hand, were inspired by everyone from Michael Jackson and Phil Collins to Bob Marley and Santana, as well as James Brown and American soul music. Equally active were groups performing regional folk musics and promoting the traditional side of Somali music. These groups helped develop a continuity with historical musical practices and oral literature that persist in popularity to this day. Seminal outfits like Waaberi and Horseed, in addition to a litany of celebrated qaraami musicians, generated a legacy of masterworks. These seasoned musicians’ efforts rippled through the music scene and spread to countries beyond as many artists began to emigrate when the country destabilized.
This recording, which was remastered from a cassette copy source, is a document of Dur-Dur Band after establishing itself as one of the most popular bands in Mogadishu. The challenge of locating a complete long-player from this era is evidenced by the fidelity of this recording. However, the complex, soulful music penetrates the hiss.
By 1987 Dur-Dur Band's line-up featured singers Sahra Abukar Dawo, Abdinur Adan Daljir, Mohamed Ahmed Qomal and Abdukadir Mayow Buunis, backed by Abukar Dahir Qasim (guitar), Yusuf Abdi Haji Aleevi (guitar), Ali Dhere (trumpet), Muse Mohamed Araci (saxophone), Abdul Dhegey (saxophone), Eise Dahir Qasim (keyboard), Mohamed Ali Mohamed (bass), Adan Mohamed Ali Handal (drums), Ooyaaye Eise and Ali Bisha (congas) and Mohamed Karma, Dahir Yaree and Murjaan Ramandan (backing vocals). Dur-Dur Band managed to release almost a dozen recordings before emigrating to Ethiopia, Djibouti and America.
Dur-Dur Band was considered a “private band,” not beholden to government pressure to sing about political topics. They practiced a love- and culture-oriented lyricism. Government-sponsored bands like those of the military and the police forces, as well as many of the well-known folk musicians, made songs that were chiefly political or patriotic in nature.
In a country that has been disrupted by civil war, heated clan divisions and security concerns, music and the arts has suffered from stagnation in recent years. Many of the best-known musicians left the country. Music became nearly outlawed in Mogadishu in 2010. Incidentally, more than ten years after Volume 5 (1987) was recorded at Radio Mogadishu, the state-run broadcaster was the only station in Somalia to resist the ban on music briefly enacted by Al-Shabab.
Dur-Dur Band is a powerful and illustrative lens through which to appreciate a facet of the incredible sounds in Somalia before the country's stability took a turn. But Somali music of all kinds continues to thrive thanks in part to the diaspora living in cities worldwide. An extensive network of news, music and video websites, along with dozens of voluminous YouTube channels, makes clear an exciting relentlessness among artists. Reports of musicians returning to Mogadishu from years abroad bodes well for the immediate future of music and expression in Somalia.

Glass Beams have announced their highly anticipated EP ‘Mahal’, out on March 22nd on their new label home Ninja Tune. Released alongside the news is the EP’s titular track “Mahal”.
The genesis for the Melbourne-based trio, which formed around founding member Rajan Silva, was through the rekindling of childhood memories relating to his father, who emigrated to Melbourne from India in the late 1970's. Silva recalled watching a DVD on repeat with his father; ‘Concert for George’, a star-studded tribute to late Beatles member George Harrison performed at London's Royal Albert Hall in 2002, featuring legendary Indian sitar player Ravi Shankar with daughter Anoushka, alongside Western icons Eric Clapton, Paul McCartney and ELO’s Jeff Lynne. This intersection of musical styles was reflected in the record collection of Silva's father, where the sounds of iconic Bollywood vocalists Asha Bhosle and the Mangeshkar lineage sat alongside music from blues legends like B.B. King and Muddy Waters. In particular, Silva was drawn to the fusion of Western musical styles and traditional Indian music; a concept pioneered by Indian artists like R.D. Burman, Ananda Shankar, and fraternal duo Kalyanji-Anandji.
This cross-pollination of East and West, of old and new, is a sentiment that the band have sought to capture in their self produced works. Across their output, Glass Beams presents a timeless fusion of cultures and sounds beamed through a prism of live instrumentation and DIY electronica, all wrapped up inside a mesmerizing and mystical visual world of their own making.
Their debut EP ‘Mirage’, released in 2021 catapulted them into the collective consciousness of new followers who came to discover their serpentine, psychedelic-tinged tracks through social media, streaming services and word of mouth, with the vinyl copies selling-out as quickly as it could be pressed via grassroots record store support.
In the wake of the unexpected success of their debut release and an abundance of festival invitations, Glass Beams were amplified around the globe performing hypnotic renditions of the 'Mirage' EP alongside an additional 20 minutes of unreleased music. Early clips of these “unreleased tracks” quickly began circulating online garnering millions of views and a fast-growing and ever-hungry following. As 2023 drew to a close and the dust settled after a whirlwind of touring, Glass Beams retreated to their home studio to record this much anticipated 20 minutes of music. They have named the record 'Mahal'.

From Tsugaru, the birthplace of Tomokawa Kazuki and Mikami Hiroshi, comes Osorezan, Itako, Nebuta, Kesho Jizo... A super intense work left behind in 1978 by Furukawa Mibu, the Orpheus (mind) of Mutsu, who sings of the magical machinery that connects this world and the next! A shocking analog LP reissue!
Mibu, who is also a poet, pretends to be the dead in order to live on as the skin of his younger brother (Mibu), who died at the age of three. The song becomes a prayer and a cry, dancing wildly through this world and being sucked into the afterlife. Fringe music with such intensity. The soul is revived precisely because it is analog. This incredible masterpiece was selected as one of the "New Masterpieces of Japan 1970-89" in the November 2011 issue of "Recocolle," and is too good to be forgotten! This elusive album, produced in 1978 and only available as an independent release, is finally being reissued!
Comes with a 20-page explanatory booklet, "Mibu: To the Wind and Earth of Tsugaru"

2025 limited restock. Deep, deep, earth music from Tsutomu Ōhashi and the Geinoh Yamashirogumi crew. A macrosymphony composed for the International Garden and Greenery Exposition in Osaka, Japan, 1990, Ecophony Gaia, was supposed to be the stunning, aural centerpiece for a light and water performance system echoing the sentiment of the venue: "Harmonious Coexistence of Nature and Mankind". Ecophony Gaia was in its truest essence the final part of a trilogy that began with 1986's Ecophony Rinne, continued, in 1988, with their most-known work the soundtrack to Katsuhiro Otomo's dystopian, cyber-punk film Akira (released as Symphonic Suite Akira), and this release mere months later. Looking back one can break up these releases into a holy musical trinity: Ecophony Rinne = spirit, Symphonic Suite Akira = body, and Ecophony Gaia = Gaia/earth. Ecophony Gaia is Geinoh Yamashirogumi's most hopeful release. Rebirth, the hardest thing to capture in music, is something Ecophony Gaia expounds upon through sonics and feeling. You hear this in light echoes from Symphonic Suite Akira coursing through Ecophony Gaia, acting as symbols saying: "not everything from the past needs to be discarded, that certain things, when rethought of, hold a heavier power". The Japanese Noh music you heard trapezing through Akira's "Illusion" walks positively untethered in Ecophony Gaia's "Euphony", Indonesian gong chimes that hit darkly in Akira's "Tetsuo" transform Ecophony Gaia's "Catastrophe" into the light sublime, serene music that it is. What's left over are the songs that point to new directions. Those that derive their influence from things that aren't easily quantifiable. The introduction of field recordings to a warmer palette of sound makes Ecophony Gaia Geinoh Yamashirogumi's first roots album. Of course, these roots belong to worldlier kind of music. Rhythms that sound like water coursing downstream from brook to ocean, electronic layers that hum and cycle through, string instruments that hover like atmosphere, wind instruments that sound like air and breath, and the powerful sound of human voices presenting divinity through communal chant -- those all constitute the ecosystem of Ecophony Gaia. Things that you've heard/felt before, renewed in a different luster. When you hear the album, notice how there are two sides to its whole: "Chaos" ending in "Euphony", "Catastrophe" ending in "Gaia". It would be a disservice to describe the way it sounds, it's an album based on belief not premonition. All you'll find in Ecophony Gaia are movements. Hopeful movements. Needed movement.


