MUSIC

Black Truffle is pleased to announce the first LP documenting master Khaen player Sombat Simla, the label’s first collaboration with Japanese sound artist, field recordist, and researcher Yasuhiro Morinaga. Simla is known in Thailand as one of the greatest living players of the khene, the ancient bamboo mouth organ particularly associated with Laos but found throughout East and Southeast Asia. His virtuosic and endlessly inventive renditions of traditional and popular songs have earned him the title ‘the god of khene’, and he is known for his innovative techniques and ability to mimic other instruments and non-musical sound, including, as a writer for the Bangkok Post describes, ‘the sound of a train journey, complete with traffic crossings and the call of barbecue chicken vendors’. Aided by a group of Thai friends, in 2018 Morinaga travelled to the Maha Sarakham province in the Isan region, arranging to meet Simla in a remote spot surrounded by rice fields. Then and there, Morinaga recorded the solo performances heard on the LP’s first side. At Morinaga’s request, Simla began with a rendition of the train song ‘Lot Fay Tay Lang’. Beginning with long tones that seem to mimic a train horn, the performance soon moves into a rapid chugging rhythm, interrupted at points by vocal exclamations and the remarkable timbre Simla produces by singing through the khene. To listeners unfamiliar with Thai music, the pentatonic scales and rhythmic chug of many of the pieces can have surprising echoes of the rawest American blues. The range of Simla’s performance is astonishing, moving from compulsive rhythmic workouts on single chords and rapid-fire runs of single notes to gentle sing-song melodies, and using a fascinating array of techniques, including a rapid tremolo that sometimes sounds almost electronic. Later the same day, Morinaga followed Simla to a cattle shed where he met percussionist Mali Moodsansee to play some molam (folk songs found in Isan and neighbouring Laos), with Pattardon Ekchatree joining in on cymbal. At times, these molam songs have a wistful, romantic character quite different from the solo pieces. Backed up by the propulsive hand drums, Simla again dazzles with his melodic fluidity, rhythmic drive, and wild displays of unorthodox technique. As Morinaga writes, ‘It felt like they had been playing together so long that their breathing was perfectly in sync, and it was like listening to the precision of James Brown’s funk’. Accompanied by extensive liner notes by Morinaga detailing the day of recording, this is a stunning document of a master musician, seamlessly integrating tradition and innovation.

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”

The genesis of "Nosthaigia" is as fascinating as the music itself. Onra spent several years living in Thailand, immersing himself in the vibrant culture and scouring local record shops for rare gems. The result is a collection of Thai songs from various genres, all sourced on 7 inches. These short instrumentals serve as time capsules, transporting listeners to a bygone era filled with nostalgia and longing. Produced entirely on the MPC1000 in 2017 and revisited in 2020, "Nosthaigia" is a testament to the power of serendipity and artistic evolution. What began as a casual exploration of unfamiliar musical territory blossomed into a deeply personal and meaningful project for Onra. Amidst a series of unfortunate life events, he found solace and inspiration in the beats he had crafted years prior. Each track on "Nosthaigia" is a reflection of his journey, a sonic expression of longing and introspection. Onra describes the process of creating the album as a cathartic release, a way of letting go of old memories and embracing the present. Despite the somber undertones, there is a quiet beauty to "Nosthaigia" that is impossible to ignore. Onra's vintage production skills breathe life into each track, infusing them with warmth and depth. From the haunting melodies of "Until The End" to the hypnotic rhythms of "Close Your Eyes And Remember" every moment feels poignant. Onra's decision to "remove all the bangers" from the album speaks volumes about his artistic integrity and dedication to authenticity. "Nosthaigia" is not about flashy beats or catchy hooks; it's about raw emotion and genuine expression. It's a reminder that music has the power to heal, to uplift, and to connect us to something greater than ourselves. In the end, "Nosthaigia" is more than just an album; it's a testament to the human experience. It's a reminder that even in our darkest moments, there is beauty to be found, if only we're willing to listen.

“BLADE N” is the long-awaited new album from Japanese rapper Karavi Roushi, who appeared on the Japanese hip-hop scene with his debut solo album “Kiyosumi Kurokawa”. This, his second solo album, is a collaborative release with Aquadab, the Japanese track maker/sound designer who co-produced “Kiyosumi Kurokawa”. The album showcases the preternatural mind-meld between rapper and track maker.Karavi Roushi came before the public as a member of Nagoya hip-hop collective Hydro Brain Gang on Nero Imai's album “Return Of Acid King” (2017). He then launched the label Super Lights with Aquadab and released his first solo album “Kiyosumi Kurokawa” in 2019 with graphic design by Takara Ohashi. Although an unknown newcomer, the album reached #15 on the iTunes Hip Hop Japan album chart and received plaudits not only for its music but also for the artwork by Ohashi. After the album, Karavi Roushi dropped his first collaboration tune with Aquadab on “S.D.S =Zero=” (2020), a compilation of Generation Z Japanese underground artists produced during the Covid pandemic. That tune, “Tokyoite”, became a favorite of the participating artists."BLADE N” was created by the three-person team of Karavi Roushi, Aquadab & Ohashi. Consciously developing their musical methodology, they intentionally use instrumental tracks to interrupt the rappers' voices and flows, something which has traditionally been avoided, and explore the possibility of creating a style that puts the rapper and track maker on equal footing in complex, woven tracks. On the album, Karavi Roushi's paranormal voice, which sometimes sounds like a mutant synthesizer, adds incisiveness, and in the artwork Ohashi visually extracts the story world hidden in “BLADE N”, giving the cover art the same impact as that of “Kiyosumi Kurokawa”.

“BLADE N” is the long-awaited new album from Japanese rapper Karavi Roushi, who appeared on the Japanese hip-hop scene with his debut solo album “Kiyosumi Kurokawa”. This, his second solo album, is a collaborative release with Aquadab, the Japanese track maker/sound designer who co-produced “Kiyosumi Kurokawa”. The album showcases the preternatural mind-meld between rapper and track maker.

Karavi Roushi came before the public as a member of Nagoya hip-hop collective Hydro Brain Gang on Nero Imai's album “Return Of Acid King” (2017). He then launched the label Super Lights with Aquadab and released his first solo album “Kiyosumi Kurokawa” in 2019 with graphic design by Takara Ohashi. Although an unknown newcomer, the album reached #15 on the iTunes Hip Hop Japan album chart and received plaudits not only for its music but also for the artwork by Ohashi. After the album, Karavi Roushi dropped his first collaboration tune with Aquadab on “S.D.S =Zero=” (2020), a compilation of Generation Z Japanese underground artists produced during the Covid pandemic. That tune, “Tokyoite”, became a favorite of the participating artists.

"BLADE N” was created by the three-person team of Karavi Roushi, Aquadab & Ohashi. Consciously developing their musical methodology, they intentionally use instrumental tracks to interrupt the rappers' voices and flows, something which has traditionally been avoided, and explore the possibility of creating a style that puts the rapper and track maker on equal footing in complex, woven tracks. On the album, Karavi Roushi's paranormal voice, which sometimes sounds like a mutant synthesizer, adds incisiveness, and in the artwork Ohashi visually extracts the story world hidden in “BLADE N”, giving the cover art the same impact as that of “Kiyosumi Kurokawa”.

Begging the Moon is a collection focused upon an early-to-mid 20th century style of Thai popular song, commonly named Phleng Thai sakon (meaning "song which is both Thai and universal"). With recordings taken from the end of WWII until the start of the 1960s, many of these tracks may also be referred to as Luk krung (meaning "child of the city") a more urbanised style of popular song that is in contrast to the Thai country music known as Luk thung ("child of the field"). Following the Thai cultural revolution of the 1930s and the following reign of west-leaning premier Plaek Phibunsongkhram, Thai culture began to adopt more and more western influences - with Thai traditional and classical music starting to incorporate western notation and particularly Jazz-orientated themes. Thai folk melodies were also adapted to create "ramwong" - a merging of popular western dance music styles such as the tango or rumba, spear-headed at the time by the pioneering Suntaraporn band. In the years following the end of WWII, the Phleng Thai sakon began to gradually develop sub-genres such as phleng talad (market songs) or phleng chiwit (life songs) focused on rural topics, and sung with rural accents. A little while later this would lead to a formal demarcation in the music - with the polished and western ballad-orientated music known as Luk krung, and the more traditional/country style now dubbed Luk thung. The gap between the two would then widen, both musically and culturally, right up to the present day. The recordings compiled here can broadly be categorised as being in the former Luk krung style, though some tracks may touch on rural subjects and motifs. However that is not to say they are overpowered by western musical influence - many of these tracks display potent aspects of traditional Thai music within their beguiling and romantic arrangements. Thanks to Peter Doolan/Monrakplengthai.

It’s possibly a misnomer to label music recorded outside of the USA or Europe with terms such as ‘psyche’ or ‘surf’ as it is often just a stylistic innovation based on exposure to foreign records via the radio or music stores. It doesn’t necessarily chime in with any of the social shifts or changes that accompanied the music’s development in the West. Even in America, the concept of teen culture was relatively new during the height of these genres popularity. People who could afford to take advantage of these new freedoms often had the financial cushioning to do so. This factor was amplified in South East Asia, and the music shouldn’t be considered nationally representative – it’s a more scaled down phenomenon, relevant to a small cross-section of society. By the same token, this wasn’t just bland copycat music to widen a band’s audience, or to entertain expat patrons in bars or clubs. This was a sincere desire to experiment and repackage local sounds without necessarily needing to make a statement. The musical information was processed and partially recast amidst a blend of local music and arrangements, transposed onto drums, electric bass, guitar and keyboards. Although in the mid-70s there was a wider protest movement in Thailand that found it’s musical outlet in the ‘songs for life’ of Caravan and Carabao, the music collected here was not part of the same aesthetic, although it’s possible there was some musical overspill. The styles featured on this compilation fall somewhere between Luk Thung (‘song of the countryside’) and Luk Krung (‘song of the city’). Bangkok was a particular melting pot for the evolution of these two genres, the former alluding to musical themes and lyrics aimed at the wider national population, the latter looking westwards with a more urban ‘sophisticated’ audience in mind. The tracks here were experimentations or dice rolling by both little known groups, as well as established figures like Plearn Promdan. Some tracks might represent a specific artist’s only foray into this musical area. Even within Thailand the majority of these tunes remain unissued, so it’s with great pleasure that we present this glimpse of the strange underbelly of Thai Luk Thung in all its unique, original and outlandish glory – a small snapshot of an otherwise forgotten era.