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Nu-dohとHarikuyamakuを中心とするプロジェクト「ウチナースレンテン」。2作目にして最終章となる今作のテーマは”エイサー”。前作よりもさらにダンサブルな内容となっている。
A面の「くーだーかー〜スンサーミー」ではボーカルに大城琢、Saxに前作同様宮古島出身のMARINO、そしてスティールパン奏者のトンチが参加。
南国感満載な仕上がりになった。 AA面の「唐船どーい」では今沖縄で最も勢いのあるYUKINO INAMINEをボーカルに迎え、MCは前作に引き続きSHINGOをフィーチャーしている。最高の琉球ダンスホールが完成。
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DJ Nu-doh（Churashima Navigator／島‘ｓ）とトラックメーカー／ダブエンジニアのHarikuyamakuを中心に、ダンスホール・リディム"Sleng Teng（スレンテン）”と沖縄民謡のチャンプルーを実現した「ウチナースレンテンプロジェクト」の第2弾。
本作のテーマは、沖縄の旧盆に行われる伝統芸能「エイサー」。先祖崇拝を重んじる沖縄では、旧暦7月13日にご先祖を迎え、15日に送るまで、各地で青年会がエイサーの演舞を繰り広げる。
今回の2曲は、そのエイサーの現場で定番曲として根付いているビッグ・チューンだ。「くーだーかー〜スンサーミー」（原題「久高万寿主節」）は、
何かと話題の多い人物“久高万寿主（くだかまんじゅーしゅ）”のうわさ話を歌い、「クユイヌ ハナシヌ ウームッサー（＝今宵の話のおもしろさ）」と盛り上げる楽曲。
歌三線は、師匠・大城美佐子から薫陶を受けた民謡唄者、大城琢。リディムに合わせて独自の“間”を作り出した歌い回しは、実はレゲエ好きという感覚が冴え渡った絶妙な仕上がり。
さらに宮古島からサックス奏者のMARINO、スティールパン奏者トンチが参加し、南国の風を感じさせるフレーズで楽曲の世界観を色彩豊かに拡張している。 “唐から船が来たぞー！”という掛け声で始まり、即興の歌詞で歌われることも多い「唐船（とうしん）ドーイ」は、祝いの席など沖縄の暮らしに欠かせないカチャーシーの代表格であり、エイサーではクライマックスで熱狂の渦を巻き起こす楽曲。
Harikuyamakuと“ダブ×民謡”のタッグで海外からも注目されている唄者、YUKINO INAMINEがその熱気を艶やかな歌声と早弾きの三線で見事に表現。
さらに島’sのSHINGOがエモーショナルなMCで畳み掛け、高揚感あふれるチューンに仕上げている。
琉球民謡に潜在するうちなーんちゅ独自のリズム感覚とジャマイカ産80年代ダンスホール・リディムの共鳴が証明された重要作。入魂の琉球ダンスホール！
文／岡部徳枝
80年代レゲエ界に革命を起こした最強のリディム"Sleng Teng”に乗せた沖縄民謡、ウチナースレンテンプロジェクトがついに始動。待望の7インチリリースが決定！
Churashima NavigatorのNu-dohとISLAND HERLEMのSHINGO (MC)のDJユニット島's (シマーズ) による、80年代レゲエ界に革命を起こしたリディム "Sleng Teng"に乗せた沖縄民謡のわらべうた「赤田首里殿内」を7インチでリリース。カップリングには「てぃんさぐぬ花」を比嘉いつみ(唄、三線)そして、宮古島出身のBlack Wax、浜田真理子のサポート等で活躍するMARINO（Sax）をフィーチャー。録音、編集は沖縄を代表するアーティストHARIKUYAMAKUが担当。
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1980年代、ジャマイカのダンスホール・シーンにコンピューターライズド革命を起こしたモンスター・リディム"Sleng Teng（スレンテン）”。沖縄で、詠み人知らずの唄として古くから歌い継がれてきた民謡「赤田首里殿内（あかたすんどぅんち）」、「てぃんさぐぬ花」。島’sのDJ Nu-dohが25年もの間、構想をあたため続けてきた「Sleng Teng×沖縄民謡」のチャンプルー・プロジェクトがついに実現した。そもそもは「"Sleng Teng”を聞いて、これは音階的に沖縄民謡が絶対合うとピンときた」のが始まりだと言う。かつて名曲「バイバイ沖縄」が生まれたように、レゲエと沖縄民謡は惹かれ合う。それを直感できるのは、まさにうちなーんちゅの血というべきか。「赤田首里殿内」は、もとは琉球王朝時代に首里殿内にて弥勒（みるく）様を迎える祭礼で歌われていた唄。今では“シーヤープー シーヤープー”などの囃子に合わせて、子どもたちが体を使って遊ぶ童歌としても親しまれている。「てぃんさぐぬ花」は、親の教えを心に染めなさいと歌う教訓歌。両曲とも沖縄では幼い頃から耳にすることの多い代表的な民謡だが、たとえうちなーぐちがわからない人でも、ふとメロディーを口ずさんでしまえるキャッチーさがある。その選曲の意図には「気軽に親しめる曲で世界中に沖縄の唄が広がってほしい」というDJ Nu-dohの切な願いがある。「必ず会って話をして音楽を作る」をモットーに、参加アーティストと友小（どぅしぐゎー）の絆を育み、音遊び、唄遊びを共にして完成した入魂作。25年越しに実った“ウチナースレンテン”が、2024年、世界に羽ばたく。
文／岡部徳枝
New York based artist James K returns with Friend.
"Friend: The rupture is filled with sounds and a translation is made from blazing starlight to harmony and weather. Laid down in our silken dreams, the tripped out flows in the dubbed footpath, and with our hands wet, we root down. Her voice fades and gathers from this place, where we hold the water of our bodies against the speaker of time, and let the ripples give us pleasure and vision. Spin slowly around the open air room, dripping with the undertone of two hearts, to hear the warming of her sun come across our deep cold space.
She flies out from the vapor whirlpool feeling the celestial breakdown rise and slip, making room all around for singing out, signaling the days to come and go in peace. And still we find that heaven and earth don’t ever mean enough, even when they speak the same. It’s in these distilled moments we construct a reality, learning to listen quietly for the voices and call out in return. A kiss, a friend, a hand in hand, continuing until things disappear. In the metronome of the cat’s tail, erasing and mending, we find reasons for love and for life.
Riffs of glory and bitter-sweet chorals, trilling and resonant, source from the sub-zeit; it's a deeper sense of emotion that we travel through this space with. And with the blissful sequencing in reverse, we recognize the sonic vistas to come through us. It’s all smiling and sliding in the backwards, floating in the drift of cricket circuitry, when you say to me “is it real?” She leaves us where sounds flicker into taste and touch, where shadows sparkle into color, where star-kissed clouds come down like doorways."
FFO: Jimi Tenor, Meridian Brothers, The Comet Is Coming, The Mauskovic Dance Band, Sun Ra Arkestra, Idris Ackamoor & The Pyramids
Psychedelic dub, Afro-Latin rhythms and cosmic grooves come together on La Chooma’s self-titled debut for Batov Records. Drawing on Moroccan Gnawa, Colombian cumbia, Afrobeat, Jamaica dub & roots, and cosmic jazz, the six-piece ensemble create deep, hypnotic music rooted in global traditions and shaped for contemporary dancefloors.
Having already captivated local audiences with their hypnotic, organic live performances, La Chooma – now a six-piece ensemble – have been steadily building an international following. Initial singles “Magic Plant” and “Huachuma” earned support from tastemakers including BBC Radio 6 Music’s Deb Grant and Tom Ravenscroft.
“Magic Plant” distills the band’s signature blend of hypnotic grooves, lush percussion and woozy synths, like Jimi Tenor lost in the Colombian Amazon. A dreamlike, dub-infused trip driven by organic rhythm and cosmic textures. “Huachuma” picks up the thread, fusing Afrobeat percussion, swirling basslines and psychedelic flourishes into a hallucinogenic jam made for a tropical dancefloor.
“High Grow” conjures images of The X-Files set in Addis Ababa, with Ethio-jazz-style synths dancing and tripping across a relentless Mulatu-inspired bassline and Afrobeat drums, all drenched in foreboding dub delay. Perfect for dark, smoke-filled rooms in the small hours.
Like the lost child of Idris Ackamoor & The Pyramids and The Comet Is Coming, “Lonely” hits like a sledgehammer of cosmic synth funk and intense Afro-rock drums, riding an acoustic bassline that breaks into a frenetic solo after a minute. The drums constantly threaten to overwhelm, but open up for the spiraling synths to peak half way through the track.
“Cozumel” follows seamlessly, moving to a slightly slower groove built on a deep electric bassline and irresistible four-to-the-floor Afro-Latin rhythms. Synths rise in harmony with the haunting call of the hand-carved Egyptian kawala flute as the energy builds in the third minute before the tension finally releases. There’s something in the music’s spiritual core and soulful presence that recalls the groundbreaking work of Jamaican legends Count Ossie and Cedric Brooks, who fused jazz with Rastafari drumming.
La Chooma draw dotted lines across time and space, finding hidden connections and shared frequencies, pulling threads together into a sound that hypnotises the mind and moves the body.
Ten years. Ten years of listening, searching, digging, sharing. Ten years of putting out records we felt mattered—because they told a story. Of a place, a moment, an impulse. Ten years of believing that music, especially the kind that doesn’t fit into any box, deserves more than just attention: it deserves care, time, and deep listening.
Bongo Joe started in Geneva, in a shop that became a label, in a city far more complex than it first appears. Beneath its polished banking façade, Geneva is layered and unpredictable. Beneath the luxury storefronts, the UN buildings, and the watch boutiques, thrives a unique scene shaped by migration, cultural collisions, political struggle, and dissonant sound. It’s here that we learned to improvise, adapt, and stay independent.
This is where the label was born—above all, to put music back at the center, in a time when everything moves too fast, gets monetized, sliced up, and repackaged. In that landscape, we believe a label should remain a space for curation, for storytelling, for quiet resistance — a place where we suggest rather than impose.
Over the past ten years, we’ve built a singular catalogue — a mosaic of archival revivals, contemporary projects, and unexpected encounters. Three main threads have shaped it.
First, the compilation of music from the past. Not to claim it, but to keep it moving. To shed light on forgotten repertoires, marginal histories, musical legacies too rich to be overlooked. To help them exist again, with dignity, and reconnect with new listeners who might never have had access otherwise.
Second, international collaborations. From Geneva, we’ve woven bonds with artists from all over the world — groups from Istanbul, Buenos Aires, London, Baku, Bogotá, Lilongwe, Les Gonaïves, or Amsterdam. Records crafted with love and boldness, in collaboration with like-minded labels, passionate curators, and artists who share our spirit. That international dimension makes us proud — it proves that you can create, exchange, and share sound sincerely, even from a city not exactly known as a musical capital.
And then there’s our local scene. Geneva, always. Because it’s where we live, where we grew up, and where we still believe in a city with a unique voice — full of friction, contradictions, and underground energy. We’ve supported projects from experimental circuits, squats, and clubs. Through our sub-label Les Disques Magnétiques, we’ve expanded the spectrum without losing the thread: defending the margins, giving space to those who don’t fit anywhere else.
Bongo Joe is also a musician. The label takes its name from George “Bongo Joe” Coleman (1923–1999), a street percussionist from Texas who stayed true to his independence for over thirty years. Turning down the offers of formal venues, he chose instead to play in the streets — banging out rhythms on an oil drum with raw charisma. His only album, recorded in 1968 in San Antonio, remains one of our most cherished records. Reissued by our friends at Mississippi Records, it carries a DIY spirit, radical freedom, and lyrical boldness far ahead of its time — a guiding light that continues to inspire us.
Bongo Joe is also a collective story. It’s about people. A team that grew over the years: from Cyril and Vincent at the helm to a tight-knit crew — Juliette, Quentin, Margot, Laurent, Baptiste. Together, we’ve kept this strange, handmade machine running. We’ve hand-stamped sleeves, lost test pressings, pressed the wrong masters on CD, found test pressings again, chased down funding, hauled stacks of records to the post office by bike, crossed our fingers for pressings to arrive on time, cursed at customs delays, botched digital releases, and felt a thrill watching “our” bands play on the stages of major festivals and the most forward-thinking clubs. We’ve been through chaos and joy. Together, we’ve made it this far. And with nearly 150 records in the catalogue, we look back on the road travelled with a mix of pride and disbelief.
This compilation isn’t a summary. It’s not a best of. It’s a trace. A selection among many possible ones. A snapshot of what we’ve tried to do since 2015: believe in music as connection, as memory, as compass. Thank you to everyone who’s supported, followed, or inspired us. Thanks to the institutions who’ve backed us. Thanks to our longtime partners: bookers, fellow labels, record stores, publicists, distributors, printers, engravers, pressing plants, sound engineers, photographers, designers. And most of all, thank you to the artists — without whom none of this would mean anything.
Ten years is a little, and a lot. We’re not done yet.
"High Contrast used to work in a record shop in Cardiff called Catapult Records. We lived on the other side of the city, but were always in there buying vinyl. Tough Guys Can’t Dance was everywhere, and If We Ever was the anthem. Ahead of summer this year we put together our own version just for fun, and the reaction was so wild, we ended up playing it in every set. Big thanks to High Contrast for this one. It means a lot to us" - OVERMONO
Blawan releases his long-awaited debut XL Recordings album, SickElixir. Crafted between Berlin, Leeds, Paris, and Lisbon, the 14-track record is his most personal work to date; a manifesto for the way he sees
music and himself. Channeling grief, family trauma, and seismic life shifts, SickElixir expands on the sounds of his recent EPs - BouQ, Dismantled Into Juice, and Woke Up Right Handed - plunging listeners into a
chaotic yet meticulous sonic world that reflects on the past while projecting a bold vision for the future.
Jamie Roberts has been revered in electronic circles for years as an artist with a fastidious approach to creating his own sound, relentlessly drawing from his teenage influences growing up in Barnsley, a post-
industrial town in South Yorkshire. At 14, he started working on a maggot farm and credits the clanging sound of the farm’s industrial mincer as an early influence on his music. After playing in various metal bands,
Roberts’ musical horizons began to expand through visits to the West Indian Centre in Leeds, where he was introduced to the full spectrum of electronic music. He first emerged as Blawan at the turn of the 2010s with
EPs on cult labels such as Hinge Finger and Hessle Audio, earning widespread critical acclaim. He’s consistently experimented, pushing boundaries in his solo projects while collaborating closely with British
producer Pariah on several projects – the live techno act Karenn, the metal-inspired band Persher, and the label Voam. SickExlixir marks the next step in solidifying his position as one of contemporary music's unique, pioneering artists, operating firmly in a lane of his own.
Today, Big Dada welcomes beloved producer and singer-songwriter Helado Negro (Roberto Carlos Lange) to the pioneering label’s storied roster. Known for crafting compassionate, atmospheric and experimental pop music, Lange ushers in a new chapter with the announcement of his new EP ‘The Last Sound On Earth’, set for release on November 7th.
Initially inspired by the question – what will the last sound I hear before I die will be? – the EP unfolds as a collection of songs embedded with ominous, often frenetic energy. This unease is amplified by Lange’s heavy use of electronics, echo and distortion, which lend a dazed, shell-shocked quality to his words – emphasising the intense feelings of dread and uncertainty that underscore his deep contemplation of a planet in crisis.
“When I wake up in the morning, I can listen to my ears tuning-in to the world around me. It feels like a blanket being pulled off my eardrums,” explains Lange. “I was watching Michael Snow’s - Wavelength (in increments 😅) while working on these songs and the room for interpretation of what I saw and heard felt large. Every time I watched it carved a new emotion out of me. Despair, hope and inspiration. I wanted to ask more of listeners, to want to take time — not just pause, but ask yourself can you untangle all of the mess and try again”
The EP’s lead-single and opening track “More” captures the soul-crushing pressure and isolation we can feel in a hyperconnected world, where despite being so well connected, we can all feel more alone than ever. “It’s about the day-to-day push and pull that can lead to being overwhelmed with more of everything,” says Lange.
The single is accompanied by a lyric video from renowned animator and filmmaker Annapurna Kumar, who is known for her blending of hand-drawn animation, stop-motion, CGI and 16mm filmmaking techniques, and has previously worked with the likes of Bon Iver and Beach House. She explains that: “The central metaphor of this video, the origami heart, represents a person processing their emotions. By focusing on a simple physical task like folding, the inner mind is freed to meditate subconsciously. I wanted to depict the mindset of someone who is a little bit overwhelmed by fleeting thoughts, but working to channel them into something positive.”
Elsewhere on ‘The Last Sound On Earth’, Lange examines systemic power structures, as on “Sender Receiver”, which contemplates the inherent violence and imbalance built into our technical terminology. or “Protector” – built around a classic jungle break – where he offers a cynical reflection on the broken notion that those in power are truly acting in our best interests and protection.
Despite the often heavy themes, the music itself finds Lange in uptempo territory, and closing tracks “Zenith” (the other side of nadir, the balance of the something and nothing) and "Don't Give It Up Now" (a song about holding on and fighting for change) attempt to transform Lange’s feelings into something positive and forward-looking. Though, as Lange puts it: “The doom is real, and the gloom is unfortunate; I'm not sure how to make this any lighter,” he has found relief through music and movement. “How can I dance to this grief?” he wonders. “It almost seems counterintuitive… but when I perform, I dance. I've found a way of moving my body on stage that gives me a direct, freeing feeling with the music.”
Never less than brimming with complex layers of emotion, ‘The Last Sound On Earth’ is the sound of an artist reckoning with the changing world around them and tentatively searching for a path forward. In doing so, he ultimately finds an answer to his own question:
“What is the last sound on earth? The last sound is love…That’s the sound I hope to hear.”
Brilliant Experimental album by the Merzbow co-founder, recorded in 1989 - with sticker and insert
The clear vinyl version is only available in the limited 99 copies boxset "artefAKTs from the Early Japanese Experimental Noise Music Scene"
本田Qの2ndソロアルバム「ことほぎ(言祝ぎ／呪言)」。AB面の2部構成で、A面では音を楽しむ音楽讃歌が、B面では「イデオロギスト」の流れを汲むコンシャスな内容がうたわれている。盟友NaBTokに加え京都から猿吉、Livingdead、ジャッキーゲンが、洛外からはDJ KENSEI、alled、COBA5000、Earth Paletteが参加。さらにSOFTのSIMIZ、Kobeta PianoのShoichi Murakamiといった様々なセッショニスト達がその独自のサウンドを寄せている。
Wax’o Paradiso Recordings continues their exploration of antipodean downtempo sounds with WPR005 - The Perfect Harmony EP. Enlisting Guy contact and Solar Suite, who individually are known for more powerful club fodder across the progressive and trance adjacent sides of the genre spectrum, here we see them trading a few BPMs for a spacious, textural sound across four tracks recorded in 2023 in a shared studio in Naarm/Melbourne.
Mama Too Tight is an album by Archie Shepp released on Impulse! Records in 1967. The album contains tracks recorded by Shepp, trumpeter Tommy Turrentine, trombonists Grachan Moncur III and Roswell Rudd, tuba player Howard Johnson, clarinetist Perry Robinson, bassist Charlie Haden and drummer Beaver Harris in August 1966.
“Damn Right I Am Somebody” is a 1974 funk masterpiece by Fred Wesley & The J.B.'s, produced under the guidance of James Brown, where powerful grooves and political messages merge to create a landmark in the rare groove genre.
Rich in musical associations yet utterly singular in its voice, joyous with an inner tranquility, the music of Natural Information Society is unlike any other being made today. Their sixth album in eleven years for eremite records, descension (Out of Our Constrictions) is the first to be recorded live, featuring a set from London’s Cafe OTO with veteran English free-improv great Evan Parker, & the first to feature just one extended composition. The 75-minute performance, inspired by the galvanizing presence of Parker, is a sustained bacchanalia of collective ecstasy. You could call it their party album.
This was the second time Parker played with NIS. Joshua Abrams: "Both times we played compositions with Evan in mind. I don't tell Evan anything. He's a free agent."
The music is focused & malleable, energized & even-keeled, drawing on concepts of ensemble playing common to musics from many locations & eras without any one specific aesthetic realization completely defining it.
“The rhythms that Mikel plays are not an exact reference to Chicago house, but that’s in there,” Abrams says. “I like to take a cyclic view of music history, can we take that four-on-the-floor, & consider how it connects to swing-era music? Can we articulate a through line? I dee-jayed for years in Chicago & lessons I learned from playing records for dancing inform how I think about the group’s music. The listener can make connections to aspects of soul music, electronic music, minimalism, traditional folk musics, & other musics of the diaspora as well. It’s about these aspects coming together. I don’t need to mimic something, I need to embody it to get to the spirit, to get to the living thing.”
For jazz fans, the sound of Parker’s soprano & Jason Stein’s bass clarinet might evoke Coltrane & Dolphy, even though they didn’t necessarily set out to do that & they play with complete individuality. Abrams sees a bridge to the historical precedent, too. “Since we first met in the 1990s, one of the things that Evan and I connected on was Coltrane’s music,” he says. “I hoped that we would tap into that sound world intuitively. In this case, I think that level of evocation adds another layer of depth, versus a layer of reference.”
Indeed, this is a performance in which the connections among the ensemble & the creative tension between improvisation and composition build into a complex mesh of associations & interactions. While the band confines itself to the territory mapped out by Abrams’ composition, they are remarkably attentive & responsive, making adjustments to Parker’s improvisations. When Parker’s intricate patterns of notes interweave with the band, the parts reinforce one another & the music rockets upward. Sometimes, Parker’s lines are cradled by the group’s gentle pulse & an unearthly lyrical balance is struck.
Drummer Mikel Patrick Avery is locked-in, playing with hellacious long-form discipline, feel & responsiveness. Jason Stein’s animated, vocalized bass clarinet weaves in & out with Lisa Alvarado’s harmonium to state the piece’s thematic material; the pulsing tremolo on the harmonium brings a Spacemen 3 vibe to the party. Abrams ties together melody & rhythm on guimbri, a presence that leads without seeming to. Like his bandmates, he shifts modes of playing frequently, improvising & then returning to the composed structure.
“As specific as the composition is, the goal is to internalize it & mix it up,” Abrams says. “The idea is to get so comfortable that we can make spontaneous changes, find new routes of activity, stasis & byways every gig. It’s like a web we’re spinning. If someone makes a move, we all aim to be aware of it, make room for it. Experiencing & listening is what it’s about, & Evan supercharges that.”
& “supercharged” is the word for this album. With Parker further opening up their music, descension (Out of Our Constrictions) is the sound of Natural Information Society growing both more disciplined and freer, one of the great bands of its time on a deep run.
x2LP, mte-74/75, pressed on premium audiophile-quality vinyl at RTI from Kevin Gray / Cohearent Audio lacquers. Mastered by Helge Sten, Audio Virus, Oslo. Liner Notes by Theaster Gates. First eremite LP edition 1200 copies. CD edition & EU x2LP edition available thru our new EU new partner, Aguirre records (Belgium).
For the fifth release on Grand River’s experimental label, One Instrument; synthesizer maestro Donato Dozzy gifts us with an incredible, psychedelic 38-minute journey.
“Slow Train” has been created using the EMS Synthi AKS, an extraordinary and rare portable modular analog synthesizer, first manufactured in 1972.
'One Instrument Sessions - Donato Dozzy' highlights the artist's most experimental side on what will be his 7th studio album. These tracks are the honest outcome from a long and intimate engagement with the instrument which were produced in his San Felice Circeo studio during an “altered state” night in October 2013.
The resulting music is one of fluid continuity; Dozzy’s most extensive, vigorous and determined application of real-time studio recording to date.
The intensity of both parts of “Slow Train” are comparable to a mindfulness experience in which the listener’s perception of reality slows down enabling every small detail of the sound to become alive and increasingly vivid.
I Jahbar, G Sudden, Buddy Don & RDL Shellah representing Portmore, Jamaica's DUPPY GUN meet Lyon's Warzou, where each vocalist tee up a track off Warzou's mutant inspirations of the 94' Corduroy Riddim.
Cooked up at Record Studio Congos in Portmore, the Duppy vocalists go to town on the pressured & twisted dancehall excursions, referencing one of the most important riddims of the 90s. The DG collective have been making waves over the past two decades and this recent collaboration is another inter-continental link up of the highest order.
Skyapnea’s Giovanni Marco Civitenga - spar of Giuseppe Ielasi as Rain Text - tacks to a sort of illbient dub as Detraex Corp on a fragged-out trip going like a cruddy Wolf Eyes on a hazed jolly.
‘Live at Pompeii’ arrives on the Sagome label after scuzzy aces from The Dengie Hundred and Ssiege with a suitably groggy set of sloshing log drums and briny textures riddled with mycelia-like lines of crooked blooz and jazz. Meditative but not boring, it finds Civitenga hitting a new sort of hobbled stride on nine asymmetric, peg-legged grooves that may take a minute to lock into, but once you’re in there it flows with a naturally offbeat, downtempo quality that's really a mark for seekers of a certain grungy sound.
It’s a grotty pleasure to follow this one for stumbling rhythms and laid-back styles of no-wave steez in procession from the gasping lurch of ‘Tykes of’, thru the squashed drums and 4th world wooze of ‘Myth Prism Strip’, to the squirming jazz spectres on ‘Bullet Holes’, right down the rabbit hole into swilling skronk of ‘Channel 83’ and Werkbund-esue enigma of ‘Mount Point’.
Announcing Perseverance Flow, the latest album from acclaimed Chicago-based ensemble Natural Information Society (NIS), release date 2024-10-24. After a trilogy of double LPs by expanded manifestations of the band that began in 2018 with Mandatory Reality & continued through Since Time Is Gravity (a Pitchfork Best Jazz & Experimental Album of the Year selection & Mojo’s #1 Underground Album of 2023), NIS returns to its core formation of Lisa Alvarado on harmonium, Mikel Patrick Avery on drums, Jason Stein on bass clarinet, & composer/multi-instrumentalist Joshua Abrams on guimbri for one continuous 37 minute composition across a single LP. As the rocket boosters on spaceship earth sputter closer to burnout, lower your stylus into a soundfield that grows stronger the deeper you travel into it; a dose of the medicine many of us look to music to deliver awaits you inside.
One of the deep contemplations of this natural information (thanks Bill Callahan) is the wide range of source materials Abrams draws from over the band’s more than 15 year history: Ideas from minimalism, modal jazz & traditional musics are regularly reimagined in these compositions. The 2021 double LP descension (Out of Our Constrictions), with guest soloist Evan Parker, reflected aspects of Abrams’ love of party music, Chicago house, & John Coltrane. *But even veteran travelers with the NIS best brace themselves for the Perseverance Flow.
Speaking to the history & the inspirations behind the album, Abrams offers: “We played the piece for a year in concert before the recording. At Electrical (Audio Studios, Chicago) we went in at 11 & were done in time to pick our kids up from school.” Abrams continues: "In a reference world, I imagine Perseverance Flow like a live extended realization of a Jaylib lost instrumental as remixed by Kevin Shields. Or vice versa. I also think it has sympathies to some of the more rhythmically intricate dance musics out of Chicago & Lisbon.”
The core NIS ensemble heard on Perseverance Flow always address Abrams’ writing with the discipline of orchestra musicians & the creativity of improvisers. But this time around, instead of inviting living legend status musicians Evan or William Parker or Ari Brown as honored guests to solo freely over the composed materials, Abrams’ invited guest collaborator was the medium of the recording studio itself. Situated at the board with engineer Greg Norman, Abrams pushed post production techniques found only sporadically on earlier NIS records deep into the heart of the music, distorting & reshaping instruments to subtly &, at times, aggressively mutate timbre & texture, color & time.
Refracting the band’s signature mesmerizing chains of overlapping rhythmic patterns through the sonic funhouse of dub makes Perseverance Flow the most formally experimental NIS album to date. Now a soundworld fully unique to itself is listening to itself, consoling & humoring itself, & consoling & humoring you. A destruction myth & a creation myth of a soundworld together at once —”energetically nutritious” (October 2025 Issue 500 The Wire) supernatural information society.
“Perseverance Flow is skipping rope in slo-mo. A dance of co-operation to rally guts & humors & keep marching through pouring tears” (Abrams).
Release date 2025-10-24. 1st eremite edition pressed on premium audiophile-quality 140 gram vinyl at Fidelity Record Pressing from Kevin Gray/Cohearent Audio lacquers. Mastered by Helge Sten (Deathprod). 1st 300 direct order copies include eremite’s signature retro-audiophile inner-sleeves, hand screen-printed by Siwa Studios, Northern New Mexico. CD & EU vinyl edition available from our partner Aguirre Records.
"An outstanding Chicago bassist, Joshua Abrams regularly contributes to a host of bands, drawing on roots from hip-hop to free jazz. He also leads a singular project, Natural Information Society (NIS), a band that stretches across time, origins, technologies and sources, and one which has mutated significantly in its 15-year history, documented on a series of Eremite LP releases. Abrams also plays guembri, the bass lute of the Gnawa people of North Africa, introduced to free jazz circles by Moroccan master Maleem Mahmoud Ghania, who in the ’90s stepped outside traditional circles to play with saxophonists Pharoah Sanders and Peter Brötzmann and percussionist Hamid Drake, the latter an occasional member of NIS. Recent NIS recordings include two double-LP sets, Since Time Is Gravity, by an 11-member Community Edition and descension (Out of Our Constrictions) by the current core quartet of Abrams, Lisa Alvarado (harmonium), Mikel Patrick Avery (drums) and Jason Stein (bass clarinet), with Evan Parker (soprano) joining them on a single 75-minute piece.
With Perseverance Flow, Abrams, as composer and producer, takes NIS in another direction, composing a piece for the quartet’s distinctive members and instruments, then editing and processing the results into a serene, pulsing, repeating work with regular shifts and time markers, transforming instrumental identities into novel sounds and short modular phrases. There’s a melody that’s regularly an extended and shifting ostinato, there’s another that’s a high-pitched soprano, more minimal still and not readily traceable to an originating sound, though the bass clarinet may be the likeliest contender. These alterations are such that only percussion and guembri are frequently identifiable. Stein’s bass clarinet only becomes strongly evident as itself nine minutes in. A certain repeating jump-start suggests a grand piano’s bass figure or the clicking of an MRI machine, yet this technological dream with its resonating soprano melody remains so fiercely human and fundamentally American that the album forms loose affiliations with music as far flung as Santo & Johnny’s “Sleep Walk” and Harry Partch’s Delusion of the Furies. The submerged instrumental identities contribute to the dream-like state, as if original sonic personalities have gone to sleep, and the results suggest a sustained techno-lullaby, a kind of mechanized bliss, a harbinger, perhaps, of the music currently most needed". --Stuart Broomer, New York City Jazz Record
"Joshua Abrams leads the Natural Information Society quartet into battle, or at least toward it, on the joyfully meandering instrumental album Perseverance Flow. Proceeding in a march of trancelike, intoxicating repetition, Abrams and his bandmates embark on a 35-minute pilgrimage to the place where jazz, contemporary classical, and multinational folk convene, achieving singularity in a state of ritual rhythm." --Pitchfork
"Spacemen 3 used to promote their music as being for the 'fucked up children of the world,' in addition to the more famous part about taking drugs to make music, etc. Natural Information Society could be described in a similar fashion, except they make music for the fucked up adults of the world, the kind who still take drugs and are baffled by their peers bending over backwards to make 'the kids' think they’re cool by slobbering over music clearly made for children. If you count yourselves among the former, the Chicago band’s latest is made for you: sophisticated psychedelia pulsing with rhythmic intensity and rich with droney waves of harmonium. Made up of a single slow-burning, 37-minute long jam, the movement here is subtle yet in its own way aggressive and sharply focused, carefully drawing the listener into the widening gyre at the center of the band’s humane, organic trance." --Mariana Timony, Bandcamp Daily Essential Releases
"The piece, called “Perseverance Flow,” began slowly, with Abrams playing rhythmically on a gimbri—a Sub-Saharan, three-stringed, skin-covered box—in his lap. Alvarado, on hand-pumped harmonium, let the reeds make chords that filled the room. Mikel Patrick Avery, on a drum kit, launched a bass drum’s beat through mists of percussion, and on bass clarinet, Jason Stein made sounds like swells and piercing winds. It was rhythms intersecting rhythms, and the room felt like an ocean, the seas shifting, tide coming in. But then, after an hour that felt like minutes, Alvarado’s chords led us home safe, the sounds calming, the room still vibrating, the chords resolved, the world a different place." --Robert Sullivan, Vogue
Anyone who’s studied meditation or watched a Formula 1 race knows you can travel great distances without going anywhere at all—and enjoy the process of not getting there. There’s pleasure in following a circuit so frequently and so closely that everyday bits of the landscape become landmarks (we always pass that bullet-holed stop sign on this route) and a pang when those landmarks change (they replaced the stop sign!). Natural Information Society’s music operates on similar principles, drawing together the thrum of Moroccan gnawa, the austere profundity of Philip Glass, and the circular structures of John Coltrane at his most spiritual into a sound that doesn’t progress so much as it rotates. Its pleasures come from the steady accumulation of repetitions and all the little tweaks and evolutions and devolutions that composer Joshua Abrams and his band have built into their music.
Perseverance Flow is Natural Information Society’s first non-collaborative record since 2023’s jazz-fractaled Since Time Is Gravity. That album presented a more relaxed version of the group, unfurling its music as though rolling out a dusty Turkish carpet. Perseverance Flow’s tight focus—one theme looped ceaselessly, with modest embellishment, for 35 minutes—feels like a microscopic view of that same rug. The phrase is initially tight and loping: a two-note harmonium riff, a lightly heraldic bass clarinet, Abrams’ clip-clopping guembri, a little one-two drumbeat, all of it held together as tightly as pencils bundled by a rubber band. The group performed the piece live for a year before recording, which gives the album a warm and lived-in feel despite its formal constriction; imagine the Sun Ra Arkestra in big-band mode, playing a single bar over and over until achieving liftoff. Taking equal inspiration from Jamaican dub and Chicago dance music, Abrams edited the one-take performance in post-production, dropping in tonal tweaks and rhythmic inversions with a jeweler’s eye for detail.
In the same way that a diamond’s symmetrical shine is both easy to admire and requires an eyepiece to appreciate in full, Perseverance Flow’s charm is shaped by the tiny variations built into the score. Once the theme is established and allowed to settle, harmonium player Lisa Alvarado flips her pattern, playing a palindrome of the simple rise-and-fall melody. The shift is so smooth it can take a moment to notice it’s happened, and even then you might second-guess the extent of the change. Drummer Mikel Patrick Avery loosens his percussion a few minutes later, playing something that sounds like pebbles sloshing in a plastic bucket. The soft shuffle is soon absorbed—whether actually or just by a kind of aural illusion—into the original pattern. Abrams anchors the sound with his Moroccan guembri, occasionally halting the steady limp of the primary line to tie a fluid knot without losing a step.
While it’s not unusual for repetition to turn a musical phrase inside out, similar to the way a word loses its meaning once you’ve said it a few times, Perseverance Flow’s emotional register stays constant. The phrases gradually begin to lengthen—at one point, Alvarado’s harmonium sounds more like an accordion playing a Cajun song in slow-mo—which gives the piece enough momentum to stay grounded. At no point does it even glance in the direction of chaos; you could probably thread a needle with the sound wave. Around the 19-minute mark, the entire ensemble pulls up together in a way that suggests a vamp, then immediately falls back into the pattern without anyone losing their place. It’s such a weird little thrill that, if you’re properly locked in, it feels like peaking in sync with a 2 a.m. bass drop.
While the instrumentation wouldn’t be out of place at your local roots festival, the dance music influence on Perseverance Flow is undeniable. Abrams’ frequent switches and intertwined notes mimic the braided bass hits and glitchy rhythms of footwork without ever leaving the aesthetic context of gnawa. Little clap-back rhythms pop up occasionally. At one point, something that sounds like a bag of shells being dropped on a snare drum introduces a new back-and-forth to the theme that matches the harmonium and brings the piece’s shuffle closer to something like hip-hop. It’s a canny way of making sure the listener’s body stays tuned in to what could easily become cerebral; you will not nod your head more insistently to a piece of experimental music this year.
Two-thirds of the way through, Avery pounds what sounds like a heavily padded kick drum in double time, just off-beat and distant enough to make it feel like the thump of a poorly insulated club. Abrams picks up the new rhythm and follows it, and for a few moments, the band seems to be playing both the main Perseverance Flow theme and a separate dance song at the same time, though the theoretical line between the two is impossible to find. Eventually, that intervention fades, too, revealing that each of the musicians is off doing their own thing, and despite that, feeling more like an ensemble than ever.
Music like this sometimes gets called “durational,” or likened to the theoretical impermanence of Zeno’s Arrow—an object that appears constant yet is recomposing itself in every moment. It is hard, listening to Perseverance Flow, not to think of the Buddhist notion of becoming, or something like philosopher Henri Bergson’s conception of the élan. Both of which are fair descriptions and logical reactions to a music that seems to do nothing but go in circles with academic confidence. But merry-go-rounds go in circles, too. As do pinwheels. You want durational? Major League Baseball teams play 162 games every season, usually for the same few thousand people. Despite the weight of the intellectual concepts and the elegance of the score, despite the band’s association with the cream of Chicago’s always-rich avant-garde scene, this record is no less approachable than an afternoon Cubs game. Appropriately enough, it gets better with each spin, too. --Sadie Sartini Garner, Pitchfork
Spanish mystic Dídac pipes up a debut spirit quest of uchronic folklore and imaginary ethnography bending Mediterranean - particularly Catalan & Castilian - tradition into new age ambient modernity via subtle subversions of his Catholic upbringing, arriving somewhere between Luis Delgado and Popol Vuh.
"In between the folds of ceremony and commonality lies a perennial spring of musical expression. A statement along the time continuum, or a testament to the resilient resourcefulness embedded in that truth, forms the philosophical approach of this album – the first outing of Dídac.
Studying an extensive archive of instruments, artifacts, and field recordings at the Musée d’ethnographie de Genève—a space steeped in folkloric gesture – Dídac encountered a cosmos of liturgical music and folk song. Anchored in reverance for tradition and transformation alike, this album navigates the old-world Mediterranean lore through a post-modern ambient lens, threading drone, gentle rhythm, electroacoustic textures and the crude tactility of archival material into one woven tapestry.
Under the guidance of Dr. Madeleine Leclair, Dídac was invited to work within one of the world’s most extensive ethno- musicological archives—L’AIMP. In the saturated basements and tape-lined backrooms of the museum, he submerged himself in the sounds of ritual and rural life: wax cylinders from the Eastern Mediterranean, tapes of liturgical hymn, the worn edges of communal song.
In a makeshift studio on the fourth floor of the museum, he sifted through the hours of material he collected, gradually discovering that the archive was no static source – It did not dictate; rather, it served as a companion—offering not answers, but questions. Not a beaten track, but a cluster of sonic clues and riddles. Samples do appear occasionally, tenderly interwoven into the dialogue of the songs. In Dídac’s self-titled debut, the past is not worn as ornament or kitsch; it is listened to and responded to. The museum, its archives, and the visit to Geneva became a foundational culisse of sorts, igniting a myriad of rough cuts and improvisational outtakes.
Dídac, or Diego Ocejo Muñoz, was born in Madrid in 1994 to a family of both Catalan and Castilian origin.Brought up in a religious household, the influence of the Catholic Church innately shaped the social fabric, schooling and daily life. This lingering dominance led the adolescent Diego into a path of rejection of everything sacramental, promptly resorting to subversion in the shape of grafitti, skateboarding and underground music. Only later in life, after a rigorous venture as an acid and electro producer, the Church re-emerged before him in new light, invoking a deep fascination for its mysticism, iconography and choral tradition.
Spain in general and Catalonia in particular, has long served as a crossroads of the eastern–western Mediterranean continuum, with many of its cultures sharing aspects of way of life and ceremony. At the MEG, Diego found himself puzzled with this realization, resulting in a sonic amalgamation that reaches farther away from the rugged mountains of Catalonia than you might perceive at first encounter. The deeply embedded memory of rite and public ceremony, religious hymn and landscape—sieved through the undercurrent of personal re-emergence, forms the emotional topography of this album. The record does not trace this landscape; it inhabits it. Its repetitive mysticism and ambient, wide-eyed gaze could possibly evoke (perhaps redundant) comparisons to artists such as Dimitris Petsetakis, or Popol Vuh’s late 70’s cinema scores.
The delicate lines between the sacred and the secular – between memory and re-invention – serve as a cipher to understanding this album in its entirety. Titles like Malpàs Mines or Pantocrator’s Portal Outro nudge toward a folkloric and devotional bedrock—places where labor and spirituality coexist, where names preserve both dust and veneration. Nevertheless, this is far from mere nostalgia. It is a reclamation — singing alongside the spirits of the past, nurturing what still hums beneath the soil. It is an intimate reflection on tradition, rebellion, adolescence, ceremony and fantasy – a pastoral contemplation on what once was and what is to be."
Bringing together the elder statesman of the Zulu guitar Madala Kunene and internationally acclaimed Sibusile Xaba, kwaNTU pulls two generations of South African guitar mastery into a single point of focus. Under-represented on recordings outside of South Africa, Madala Kunene (b. 1951), the ‘King of the Zulu Guitar’, is revered as the greatest living master of the Zulu guitar tradition. Sibusile Xaba, whose collaboration with Mushroom Hour Half Hour reaches back to his first recording in 2017 (Open Letter To Adoniah/Unlearning), has garnered international acclaim for his unique voice and virtuoso guitar stylings, which bring together multiple South African guitar lineages in an original, spiritualised fusion. Collaborating with Mushroom Hour and New Soil for kwaNTU, the two players come together to weave a filigree sonic fabric which reaches down to the heartwood of Zulu guitar music but moves resolutely outward, building on the past to create a deeply rooted statement about present conditions and future travels. kwaNTU – which can be roughly translated ‘the place of the life-spirit’ – is also conclave of teacher and student, as Xaba has been taught by Kunene for the last decade. Meditative, rich and sonically sui generis, kwaNTU finds these two musicians linking up within the inimitable space of sound and spirit that they share through Kunene’s teaching.
The great masters of South African music have not all had equal exposure. For many years the generation of musicians who were exiled during apartheid took centre stage, as the regime made it very difficult for those at home to be heard. More recently, a new cohort of important voices, especially in jazz, has broken through to international consciousness. But for the generation of musicians in between – those who shone like beacons in the most difficult final years of apartheid and immediately afterward – international recognition has been slow in coming.
Madala Kunene, ‘the King of the Zulu Guitar’, is among this number. A revered figure for current generations of South African musicians, Kunene began his recording career in 1990, at the bitter end of apartheid, with a now classic self-titled LP for David Marks’ storied Third Ear imprint. Born in 1951 in Cato Manor, near Durban, he had determined to be a musician from early childhood, and by the time he first entered a recording studio he had already had a long career as a popular performer. His virtuoso absorption and transformation of the venerable Zulu maskanda guitar tradition and his richly spiritualised approach to music immediately marked him out as someone special, and in the years that followed, Kunene cemented his position as one of South Africa’s musical elders. He is without doubt the grand master of the Zulu guitar tradition, but his sound and sensibility ranges far beyond it into varied sonic terrain, and he has collaborated with a wide range of musicians both at home and abroad. Now in his mid-seventies, he remains a shining light for those that are making music in contemporary South Africa.
‘He is really an amazing person,’ says the guitarist Sibusile Xaba, who has been mentored by Kunene for over a decade, and now invites a collaboration with him on kwaNTU. ‘As a mentor, he's really powerful in showing us the way. For us to have this opportunity to make music together and have a project together is really a blessing to me.’
Xaba himself grew up in Newcastle, KwaZulu-Natal, where his mother had been in a band and his father sang in a church choir, and from early childhood Xaba played homemade tin guitars. He only later realised that music was his calling. ‘I just loved music. I was fortunate. My parents loved music. And when it was time for me to leave home and go to study outside Newcastle, I knew that music was what I wanted to do. There was no second option. It was just music.’ Moving to Pretoria to study music formally, Xaba committed himself to his craft, developing a unique style that draws on both US jazz masters such as Wes Montgomery and Jim Hall, and the rich and varied heritage of the South African guitar, from inspirational jazz players such as Allen Kwela and Enoch Mthalane, to the music of the Malombo groups and Dr. Philip Tabane (Xaba has previously collaborated with Dr. Tabane’s late son, Thabang), and the Zulu guitar tradition embodied by Kunene.
‘I was really in love with the jazz guitar, I really admired it, and I was digging a lot in that direction,’ says Xaba, recalling his first encounter with Kunene’s music, over a decade ago. ‘And then one day on my timeline, Kunene popped up, and I was like – “What's this sound?” I was so connected to it. It really touched me deep. I started checking out his records, and then I found out he's from the same region as I am, which is Zululand.’ After Kunene played a show at the Afrikan Freedom Station in Johannesburg, Xaba make contact with him, and visited him at home in Durban. They struck up a friendship, and Xaba became the elder’s student, as Kunene began to pass on his knowledge and his inimitable way of playing.
kwaNTU is a tribute to this relationship and the deep learning that has defined it. The album was recorded in Zululand in the town of Utrecht, at a cultural centre called Kwantu Village, which gives its name to the album. ‘It's such a broad word,’ Xaba says, ‘but the elders teach us that Ntu is basically an energy, almost chi, an energy, a force that all living beings have within them. It's a living energy, so kwaNTU is like, almost the place of this energy.’ The two men sequestered themselves for five days of jamming, improvising and planning, and then the session was recorded in one take over a single night, with Gontse Makhene joining on percussion and backing vocals and Fakazile on vocals. Other voices and overdubs were later added in the studio in Johannesburg.
The result is a rich and meditative recording that finds two generations in a deeply engaged dialogue. Teaching and passing on his knowledge, the elder Kunene has brought Xaba into a space of sound and knowledge that they now share; Xaba’s own practice of deep communion with nature and his dedication to his musical craft make him the perfect interlocutor for Kunene. The result is an album that foregrounds the two musicians engaged at the highest levels of responsive listening, sympathetic unity, and collaborative concentration. Bringing an elder statesman of South African music to an international listening audience for the first time in decades by pairing him with one of South Africa’s most important new voices, kwaNTU is a meeting of generations and a powerful demonstration of musical lineage and continuity.
‘Before music, there is sound,’ Xaba observes, speaking of Kunene’s unique approach to music. ‘And sound is like a common compartment…it's not restricted to particular people or particular geographic places, you know what I mean? It's sound. Everybody can hear it. So when he constructs that sound into music, I think everybody resonates with the energy behind his construction of sound into song. Here at home, we really love him for preserving our history through the guitar, through his stories as well the music, the songs that he writes. We really, really admire him.’
Detroit’s baddest yungers get down on their ones with a 2nd self-released volley of modern ghetto-tech and hyperlocal jit, reprising the road-ready sound of the late ‘90s and early ‘00s for new crowds hungry for this shit
Including a killer 2024 single indicative of what to expect in the tabla and jazz key puckered slam of ’SPANK!’, the 14-track ‘Honeypaqq Vol.1’ says its bit in a brisk half hour of scudding subs and sampler chops racked up at 160BPM. The levels are typically up there and lyrically lascivious from the bucking ace ‘Take Yo Panties Off’ to the ruthlessly sped-up R&Bop ‘Freak in Full Effect’, deftly reinterpreting and factoring the groundwurk of DJ/producers Funk, Assault, Rashad and Maaco for 2020s needs.
Since staking their sound with two LPs for Omar-S’ FXHE and a ruck of acclaimed live shows, Hi Tech have become standard bearers for a brand of ghetto house that found international favour some 25 years ago and long since long bubbled away in the background. The trio of King Milo, Milf Melly and 47chops aka Hi Tech are almost single-handedly responsible for renewed interest in this zone, paralleling the pace and intent of Chicago’s renowned footwork sound with similar but distinctively jazzy Motor City tekkerz.
Trust it twerks and fizzes in all the right places. Putative jit and deb dualities juke it out in the itchy but sublime ‘Norf Cold 304’s’, while they balance bebop and crunk in ‘New Jazz Schmell’ and snap to quicksilver electro-soul in ‘Empty Bus Stop’, or push out into that sort of weirdo scuttle that the 313 does so well on the spooked-out ‘Adultswim Doctor Etrange’ or ‘Queenbootyathenaaphrodite’, saving a superb sting in the tail for ’Shadowrealm.’
Deeply tied to the composer’s own life, the narrative of Lacrimosa invites reflection in the face of loss. This sonic work draws inspiration from Alice Coltrane’s spiritual Eternity (1976) as well as the traditional structure of the Requiem, a mass for the dead. One of its sections, the Dies Irae, evokes Judgment Day and concludes with the Lacrimosa (literally, “full of tears”), depicting the weeping of souls in search of salvation.
In Lacrimosa, Low Jack transforms autobiographical elements into a messianic, polyglot form, unfolding across eight movements that chart the storms and serenity of grief. The piece unfolds from dawn to dusk, as the eyes open and then close. An initiatory solar cycle, from which one returns like Dante in his Divine Comedy, transcendent yet grief-stricken by the loss of a guiding presence.
Low Jack crafts one of his most intimate compositions, weaving together musical archetypes and universal narrative structures, drawing from both classical lyrical music and pop standards.