MUSIC
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Capturing the raw, melodic sounds of 90’s second wave emo - Jejune’s 1997 album Junk is anything but. Blending dual vocals, massive drums, and riffs stacked on riffs, this is the blueprint for indie bands to follow.
Feed Like Fishes is Should's first full-length record — an album of noisy, sedate, and minimal pop songs. Falling somewhere between shoegazer, slowcore, and postrock, Feed Like Fishes is a wonderfully complicated record that echoes the sounds of Yo La Tengo, Slowdive, Bedhead, and Galaxie 500. The album also includes Should's take on The Wedding Present song "Spangle."
The album begins with "Fish Fourteen," a fuzzed-out lo-fi instrumental inspired by Colin Newman's instrumental solo record, Provisionally Entitled The Singing Fish. "Sarah Missing" fits perfectly with the work on Should's A Folding Sieve album, with its unforgettable vocal chorus awash in shoegazing delight.
"It Still Would" and "It's Pull Is Slight" are moderately-paced indie rock tunes that bring to mind Bedhead, the latter song featuring a parade of bells throughout its extended coda.
"Memdrive" encircles whispered vocals with gliding bass and guitar lines in the spirit of Main's early work. Should also explore Apollo-era Brian Eno on "Inst2" substituting heavy analog-delayed guitar notes for Eno's keyboards.
"Both Eyes Open" ends the record with a nod to the melodious, delicate side of Yo La Tengo with Marc and Tanya's coupled vocals going down as sweet as sugar.

Tirez Tirez’s Story of the Year documents a key transitional period as bandleader Mikel Rouse moved from Kansas City’s underground scene to downtown New York. Formed in the mid-1970s, Tirez Tirez blended new wave, minimalism and experimental pop, earning early attention while opening for Talking Heads and gaining support from figures including David Byrne.Originally released on Les Disques du Crépuscule, Story of the Year combines earlier Tirez Tirez material with later sessions recorded in New York and Brussels. The album captures Rouse’s early system-based approach, using layered rhythms and phased repetition that would later inform his development of totalism. Positioned between post-punk and contemporary composition, it catches a band in transition and an artist on the verge of a new direction.
A band that played so loud their entire fan base went deaf and never spoke of them again. Formed in 1993 in the go-nowhere exurb of San Jose, California, Super Static Fever played only a handful of gigs in their brief two year existence, punishing spectators with a tinnitus-inducing wah-wah wall of Marshall-stacked distortion. Their sound was a mix of Melvins-esque sludge, Swervedriver’s melodic crunch, and latter-day Black Flag’s penchant for volume, as heard from the stock stereo of a hot-boxed 1985 Ford Econoline. Unfinished tapes from two ear-bleeding sessions are all that survived the ensuing 25 years since their indifferent break-up, mixed by the exacting Steve Albini as the band’s one condition for reissue. The package reeks of the ’90s computer-crippled D.I.Y. aesthetic, with VHS blur and opaque white screened on chipboard. A record that just barely does, and probably should not, exist.


Martin Khanja (aka Lord Spike Heart) and Sam Karugu emerge from Nairobi's flourishing underground metal scene as former members of the bands Lust of a Dying Breed and Seeds of Datura. Together in 2019 they formed Duma (Darkness in Kikuyu) with Sam abandoning bass for production and guitars and Lord Spike Heart providing extreme vocals to the project.
Recorded at Nyege Nyege Studios in Kampala over three months in mid 2019 their self-titled debut album fuses the frenetic euphoria, unrelenting physicality and rebellious attitude of hardcore punk and trash metal with bone-crunching breakcore and raw, nihilist industrial noise through a claustrophobic vortex of visceral screams.
The savant mix of brutally adrenalized drums, caustic industrial trap, shredding grindcore inspired guitars and abrupt speed changes create a darkly atmospheric menace and is lethal on tracks like the opener "Angels and Abysses" , "Omni" or "Uganda with Sam".
The gruelling slow techno dirges and monolithic vocals on "Pembe 666" or "Sin Nature" add a pinch of dramatic inevitability bringing a new sense of theatricality and terrifying fate awaiting into the record's progression.
A sinister sonic aggression of feral intensity with disregard for styles, Duma promises to impact the burgeoning African metal scene moving it into totally new, boundary-challenging experimental territories.


Deeply resonant spiritual music transmitted via piano, organ, and harmonium by beloved composer and Ethiopian Orthodox nun Emahoy Tsege Mariam Gebru.
Church of Kidane Mehret collects all the musical work from Emahoy’s 1972 private press album of the same name, alongside two additional unreleased piano recordings, exploring Emahoy’s take on “Ethiopian Church Music.”
Recording herself in churches throughout Jerusalem, Emahoy engages directly with the Ethiopian Orthodox musical liturgy. For the first time, we hear Emahoy on harmonium and massive, droning pipe organ, alongside some of her most moving piano work.
“Ave Maria” is one of our favorite pieces Emahoy ever recorded, her chiming piano reverberating against ancient stone walls. Her familiar melodic lines take on new resonance when played through the harmonium on “Spring Ode - Meskerem.” Two towering organ performances comprise the B Side, combining Emahoy’s classical European training with her lifelong study of Ethiopian religious music.
Nowhere is Emahoy’s unique combination of influences more apparent than on “Essay on Mahlet,” a meditative slow burner in which Emahoy interprets the free verse of the Orthodox liturgy note for note on the piano. This revelatory piece, alongside the dramatic piano composition “The Storm,” comes from another self-released album, 1963’s Der Sang Des Meeres. Only 50 copies were ever produced (and no cover). One of the only known copies was saved from the trash and shared with Mississippi by a fellow nun at Emahoy’s monastery when we visited for Emahoy’s funeral in March of 2023.
We are proud to work with the Emahoy Tsege Mariam Music Foundation to bring you these rare spiritual recordings in what would have been the artist’s 102nd year.
Available in black and clear vinyl editions. Old-school tip-on jacket with metallic silver foil stamping along with a 12-page booklet featuring extensive liner notes from scholar and pianist Thomas Feng.


From beloved composer Emahoy Tsege Mariam Gebru, a revelatory new album of piano pieces, unreleased or virtually inaccessible until now!
Emahoy Tsege Mariam Gebru is a true original – an Ethiopian nun whose recordings have funded orphanages back home since the early ’60s. Her compositions and unique playing style live somewhere between Erik Satie, Debussy, liturgical music of the Coptic Ethiopian Church, and Ethiopian traditional music. It is some of the most moving piano music you will ever hear.
This is the first archival release of the great composer’s recordings since the Éthiopiques series reintroduced her music to the world in 2006. Drawn from original master tapes and a nearly impossible-to-find vinyl release, Jerusalem unveils profound new facets of Emahoy Gebru’s performance and compositions.
The record picks up where the last two Mississippi releases left off, with tracks from her 1972 album Hymn of Jerusalem, of which only a handful of copies are known to exist. These include “Home of Beethoven,” “Aurora,” and a true masterpiece that stands amongst her greatest compositions, the moving “Jerusalem.” “Quand La Mer Furieuse” is the first release featuring Emahoy’s singing voice, forshadowing a vocal album planned for fall 2023. The B-Side brings us the artist’s home recordings - tracks like “Farewell Eve,” “Woigaye Don’t Cry Anymore,” and “Famine Disaster 1974” mark a bridge from liturgical work to dark and intense classical material, a new mode.
This album is released in celebration of Emahoy Gebru’s 99th birthday on December 12, 2022. Mississippi is honored to work with the Emahoy Tsege Mariam Music Publisher to continue to introduce this visionary composer to the world.
Newly remastered recordings pressed on 160gm black vinyl, heavy jacket with reproduction of 1972 artwork, song notes by the artist.

The latest by iconic slowburn Australian duo HTRK is an elegant nine song suite of windswept emotion and heartbreak noir, crafted in skeletal arrangements of guitar, voice, metronomes, and FX. Inspired by a recent infatuation with “eerie and gothic country music,” Rhinestones moves from whispered lament to acoustic eulogy to downtempo vignettes, tracing muted embers of loss and lust through haunted city streets. Taking cues from the economy and brevity of western folk but skewed through a narcotic, nocturnal lens, the album maps enigmatic badlands of strung out beauty and lengthening shadows.
Nigel Yang cites friendship as a central muse, “particularly the forging of it, and its potential for new feelings of telepathy and trust.” Jonnine Standish’s wounded, alluring vocals echo similar mysteries of connection and unknown crossroads, poetic but direct, dream diaries faded with age and rain. The rhinestones of the title evoke the glittering plastic of cowboy glamor, yet “made precious somehow;” Standish cites as an example a baby blue star brooch from Texas, gifted to her “from a stoned friend on New Year’s Eve 10 years ago in Brighton – cheap keepsakes can be more valuable than diamonds.”
Even for a group as enduringly versatile as HTRK, Rhinestones is a revelation, condensing their lyrical alchemy to its simmering, magnetic essence. “Sunlight Feels Like Bee Stings,” “Reverse Déjà vu,” and “Gilbert and George” in particular are masterpieces of drama, delivery, and distillation, dried flowers clouded by smoke, the candle’s flame flickering but unforgotten: “Some things are not like the others / Some friends are not like the others / did I ever say / did I ever say / did I ever say thank you?”
For our 100th Eccentric Soul 45, Numero returns to our Ohio roots with three replica 45s from the Capsoul universe. Marion Black's timeless two-sider "Who Knows" b/w "Go On Fool" made a few blips upon its 1970 release, but has taken on a life of its own soundtracking prestige TV and car commercials around the globe and finally going gold after 65 years. We discovered Ron Harrington's "Because You're Mine" demo amongst the Capsoul tapes, a demo cut for founder Bill Moss that never escaped greater Columbus. The mid-tempo harmony joint "It Happened To Me Again" adorns the flip, with a lo-fi funk backbeat tossed in for good measure. Capsoul's crown jewel group harmony quartet Johnson, Hawkins, Tatum & Durr cut just two records in their short time together, but the quartet's "You Can't Blame Me" has endured as a classic example of the raw and unhinged soul sound that Numero is known for. Eccentric Soul from the heart of it all.

Recorded in 1997, upon The Shadow Ring’s return from their final US tour, Lighthouse captures the group at their most stripped-down and visionary. Graham Lambkin’s fractured texts conjure Folkestone’s haunted coastline—Vikings, the Morgawr, a fading Britain, the pull of the sea—under the sway of Alternative TV’s Vibing Up the Senile Man (Part One), the mechanical vernaculars of Robert Ashley and Mark Perry, and the deflated humor of Dad’s Army and It Ain’t Half Hot Mum. Originally issued in 1999 on Scott Foust’s Swill Radio, this lost masterpiece—a stark, lo-fi world of home recording and concrète capture—is once again available on vinyl. For fans of Alan Titchmarsh, David Croft, Harry Pussy, and Idea Fire Company.


“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
Senor Coconut's cult classic ‘El Baile Aleman’—one of Atom TM's many aliases—is reissued on vinyl for the first time in 25 years. Born from the half-joking idea that “if you're going to cover Kraftwerk, do it with cha-cha-cha or death metal,” this work reconstructs Kraftwerk's electronic minimalism through tropical imagination. It presents an original sound where cha-cha-cha, mambo, and cumbia intertwine with glitch and breakbeats.
Takashi Kokubo, one of Japan’s leading ambient musicians and sound designers, is best known for creating sounds such as the Earthquake Early Warning alert and payment confirmation tones. From his “Aeon Series” released in the 1990s, the highly popular title *Wind Oasis II: A Tale of Forest and Water* is finally being reissued!
Released in 1990, Heaven or Las Vegas was the band's most commercially successful release, reaching number seven in the UK album charts. Numerous publications have since declared it one of the best albums of the 90s, Pitchfork calling it “a core of ungodly gorgeous songs that is every bit as moving and relevant today as it ever was.” Label founder Ivo Watts-Russell goes further, candidly revealing in the recent 4AD biography, Facing The Other Way, that this album wasn’t just his favourite Cocteaus album but also his favourite all-time 4AD album, and “by a long shot”, calling it “the perfect record.”
