Psychedelic / Progressive
424 products
After forming in the mid `60s and gradually finding their sound, A Bolha carved out a unique spot in Brazil's underground scene with their mix of fuzzed-out riffs and a hard-hitting, soulful rhythm section. Sem Nada was released in 1971 during the era when Arnaldo Brandao was on bass, and when the band was at its heaviest and most trippy.

Punk Slime Recordings are proud to present the debut album from Gothenburg quintet Hollow Ship, the follow-up to the acclaimed debut 7” We Were Kings from late 2019. Due on April 3, Future Remains is a massive introduction from the band, showcasing their unique take on psychedelic rock which sounds like nothing else around, expertly produced by Hollow Ship together with Mattias Glavå (Dungen etc) on the majority of the album and working with Daniel Johansson on opening track “Take Off”.
A lot of new bands take their time in finding their feet; working their way slowly to the sound they want to project, and figuring out what it is they want to say gradually, as they go along. Not this one, though - both sonically and thematically, Future Remains sees them storm out of the gate with a crystal-clear mission statement. Somewhere in the space behind a well-worn eight-track recorder and the polish of present-day production, Hollow Ship have lift off.



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.

Instrumental four-piece Yuuf return with a new EP ‘Mt. Sava’, out on Ninja Tune imprint Technicolour. The release follows their earlier 2025 EP ‘Alma’s Cove’, a six-track journey through natural soundscapes and quiet introspection.
Described by the band as the “spiritual sister to ‘Alma’s Cove’”, ‘Mt. Sava’ shifts the setting from lush coastal tranquility to the awe-inspiring scale of mountainous desert terrain - one that “lets the listener both explore the serenity of a night sky filled with stars far removed from human life and the brutality and fierceness of life in the desert” the band comment. “The name Mt. Sava comes from the place where we shot a Live Session of the full EP. It’s a breath-taking and canyon-like gorge that is often referred to as St. Sava Canyon”.


Eje Eje, the orbiting side project of Şatellites founder and multi-instrumentalist Itamar Kluger, shares ‘Primordial Soup’, his second album on Batov Record, stirring an even wider pot of influences from East to West that defies genre. Kluger first achieved international success with six–piece Turkish psychedelic rock evangelists, the Şatellites, whose enviable catalogue has won them support around the world, from KEXP in Seattle to BBC Radio 6 Music, and FIP in France. Kluger launched his solo project, Eje Eje, with the 2023 ‘Five Seasons’ LP, playing the majority of instruments himself and refining his production chops. Kluger’s blend of traditional Mediterranean and Middle Eastern music with psych, funk, dub, and beat production, culminated in strong support from BBC Radio 6 Music, BBC Radio 2, and Songlines. Much like its predecessor, ‘Primordial Soup' was largely self-recorded by Kluger, blending meticulous studio work, recalling DJ Shadow or early Four Tet, with raw, expressive performances - mainly himself on strings, bass guitar, percussion, and keys, including a new recently acquired microtonal keyboard - perfect for exploring Eastern musical scales, plus musical friends such as drummer Raz Man of Sababa 5, Şatellites and Project Gemini fame. Taking its name from the scientific theory on the origins of life, ‘Primordial Soup’ is as much about sonic experimentation as it is a metaphor for existence itself. For Kluger, the title represents both a philosophical question and a creative mission. “‘Primordial Soup’ is a scientific theory about how life began - thick mixtures of organic matter that, with the sun’s energy, formed self-replicating systems”, Kluger explains. “I still feel sometimes we are just some kind of walking soup bound by a skin balloon”. The album mirrors this idea in its fusion of disparate elements - a bubbling mix of Turkish percussion, psych guitars, dub textures, synths, drum machines, and Middle Eastern musical scales - forming a cohesive yet unpredictable whole. “This album is also a thick mixture of many things, a primal fusion of sounds that exist together only in my imagination, with a potential to come to life”. Kluger began work on Primordial Soup in October 2023, though many ideas had been gestating long before. The process was shaped by both creative compulsion and emotional necessity: “It was a very hard time. Making this album felt like something I had to do to stay sane. I hope it came out banging like my heart did at that time”. Album opener, “Oyun Çorbası” is a playful fusion of Turkish folk and indie rock textures. Its title is a wordplay on Oyun Havaları (traditional dance tunes) and çorba (soup), reflecting the track’s mix of influences. A tight, marshy groove from drummer Raz Man drives the rhythm, while a phased baglama riff leads, layered with swirling keys into a hazy, cymbal-driven bridge. Drawing on the spirit of Ottoman-era dance music but twisted into something uniquely modern, with a Stone Roses meets Turkish folk twist. “The Bride” is a collaboration between Eje Eje and rising flautist, percussionist and multi-instrumentalist Elad Kimhi. Inspired by Lebanese weddings, the track blends tradition with dancefloor energy. Known for his work with Firqat El Nur Orchestra, Sharif, among others, Kimhi brings a deep understanding of Mediterranean music, from Andalusian to Moroccan and Turkish. Middle Eastern synths fly across the funk driven groove, arguably like Omar Souleyman if he made boogie. Brighter in tone than much of the album, poppier but with a psychedelic twist, “The Bride” was made with one thing in mind: parties. Similarly, the uptempo “Puzmak” has a highly celebratory feeling and is set to wreak havoc on dancefloors and parties. Middle Eastern horns lead the track, but carried by heavy percussion, a solid bass groove, and subtle drum machine programming. “Horrorizon”, is heavy in almost every sense — dark, cinematic, and immersive. Relentless, languid drums, a hypnotic bassline, and harsh bouzouki textures create a foreboding atmosphere, evoking a deep sense of an ominous future. Think early DJ Shadow with a pile of Turkish psych wax. Kluger imagines it as a kind of “riding song” for “an old carriage wobbling its way down a muddy road into the unknown night”, recalling “the alertness in your guts that something isn’t right about where humanity is heading”. From brooding cinematic rides to joyous wedding bangers, ‘Primordial Soup’ explores what it means to be alive, connected, and creative in turbulent times and cements Eje Eje as one of the most exciting voices fusing Middle Eastern traditions with cutting-edge beat culture. Whether on the dancefloor or in headphones, this is music that moves.



Unknown Mortal Orchestra present a limited 12" drawing from 70s and 80s Italian horror & Black Sabbath. "UMO’s 'CURSE' EP reflects these cursed times we find ourselves in. Taking inspiration from Italian horror films of the 1970s and 1980s, the six songs on the release are as cathartic a listen as the band has ever recorded. Featuring both abrasive, Black Sabbath inspired riffs on “BOYS WITH THE CHARACTERISTICS OF WOLVES” as well as the laid back, intricate guitar playing UMO is maybe most famous for on “DEATH COMES FROM THE SKY”, the CURSE EP is the perfect soundtrack to your next confrontation with the void."
For many bands, having all their gear stolen would be catastrophic. For Third Ear Band, this unfortunate 1968 incident opened a portal to beneficial change that would ultimately define one of British experimental music's most singular statements. Now, Antarctica Starts Here presents the first-time vinyl reissue of the group's self-titled 1970 sophomore album - often called Elements due to its elemental track titles - complete with new liner notes by Dave Segal that illuminate this remarkable chapter in acoustic psychedelia's evolution. Leader and percussionist Glen Sweeney viewed the theft as a sign to alter Third Ear Band's approach entirely, switching to exclusively acoustic instruments just as electrified psychedelia reached full bloom. Alongside Paul Minns (oboe, recorder, whistles, flutes) and Richard Coff (violin, viola), Sweeney struck out on an individualistic path that blended Indian raga with chamber music - without plugging in. Following their powerful 1969 debut Alchemy, which established them as a solemn force in the global underground, Third Ear Band's self-titled album represented the full flowering of their alchemical vision. The four tracks - "Air," "Earth," "Fire," and "Water" - correspond to the basic components of medieval European alchemists' doctrines, creating what Dave Segal describes as "epic, trance-inducing jams that suggested secret knowledge of infinity." What distinguished Third Ear Band from their contemporaries was their peculiar estrangement from the counterculture on a sonic level. As Segal notes, "Even outré contemporaries such as Comus and Jan Dukes De Grey sounded like pop groups compared to TEB." Having no traditional front person or electric instruments, the group forged a path that flowered most vividly on this album. The methodology was deceptively simple yet profoundly effective: "Sweeney laid down a steady pulse on hand drums, while Minns and Coff wove in melismatic patterns on oboe, recorder, violin and viola." This approach created what Segal describes as "a communal transcendence in sound – a hypnotic swirl that doesn't swing, but rather wafts and undulates with cloistered beauty." The album's four elemental compositions exist in what Segal calls "an eternal now, a perpetual wow. It is an ouroboros of organic textures, seemingly magicked into the air spontaneously, yet possessing a rigor that suggests long hours in the lab." Without electricity, Third Ear Band somehow "burrowed deeper into your consciousness" than their amplified contemporaries. Originally released on Harvest in 1970, this album has remained out of print on vinyl for decades, making ASH Records' reissue a significant event for collectors of British experimental music. The influence of Third Ear Band's acoustic approach can be traced through subsequent generations of artists from Popol Vuh to Trad, Gras Och Stenar and beyond - groups that understood how acoustic instruments could achieve psychedelic transcendence without electronic amplification. This reissue preserves the album's original four-part structure while presenting it with the sonic clarity that reveals the intricate interplay between Sweeney's rhythmic foundation and the melodic explorations of Minns and Coff. The inclusion of Dave Segal's comprehensive liner notes provides crucial context for understanding Third Ear Band's unique position within the experimental music landscape.
Roberto Cacciapaglia is an Italian composer and pianist who started out in the fertile Milan avant-garde scene of the 1970s, which included Franco Battiato, Giusto Pio, Lino Capra Vaccina, Francesco Messina, among others. After studying at the conservatory, he worked at RAI's Studio of Musical Phonology – an electronic music laboratory similar to NDR/WDR in Germany, GRM/IRCAM in France or BBC Radiophonic Workshop.
Originally released in 1979, Sei Note In Logica (Six Notes In Logic) is Cacciapaglia's second album. While his debut, Sonanze, offers a series of ambient mini-soundtracks, Sei Note presents a singular, sinuous piece. The composition is based on a finite set of musical notes, yet this limitation is the point of departure for a grand tour of possible combinations and enthralling timbres (marimbas, strings, reeds and human voice).
Like Steve Reich's Music For 18 Musicians, the joyous experiment of Sei Note is grounded in constant variation. Often doubled by multiple instruments, non-repeating patterns are exquisitely layered, while electro-acoustic signals transform and further refract through visceral effects. Within this conceptual framework, Cacciapaglia does not so much juxtapose rigid dichotomies – acoustic vs. electronic, melodic vs. dissonant, simple vs. complex – as fuse them into an expansive whole.
What started as an inspired study in Minimalism becomes a bold feat of 20th century music. Sei Note In Logica is deeply sincere and, at the same time, quite playful. With one foot firmly planted in the past and the other steeped in technology, Cacciapaglia's influence can be heard in the work of Jim O'Rourke, Fennesz and Ben Vida.

Rumah Sakit were a four-piece rock band based in San Francisco, CA. The group began to take shape in 1998 after guitarist John Baez, bassist Kenseth Thibideau and drummer, Jeff Shannon, all moved from Redlands to San Francisco. Fully formed once guitarist Mitch Cheney quickly joined, the band settled on the name Rumah Sakit – a literal Indonesian translation of “sick room” (aka hospital) – and a sound that fused the frenetic energy of Red-era King Crimson with a meditative melodicism that starkly contrasted the vast majority of so-called “math-rock” bands of the era. Soon thereafter, Rumah Sakit entered the studio for the first time to record what would become their eponymous debut album.Rumah Sakit was recorded in 1999 at The Music Annex – a hallowed megaplex that counts diverse icons such as Erik Satie, The Tubes, Michael Hedges, Montrose, and American Music Club amongst its many historical clients – in two somewhat clandestine overnight sessions with good friends and studio interns, Jay & Ian Pellicci. The album was made with a “no tricks” philosophy that would come to define the band’s approach to performing and documenting their music. Recorded entirely live with no overdubs in very few takes, the band embraced the art of using the natural presence of the room and strategic gear placement to capture the purest and most accurate representation of those songs in those moments. In an era that was quickly being transformed by the burgeoning popularity of ProTools and meticulously manicured, maximalist mixes, the world inside of Rumah Sakit was a refreshing respite.A year later, in the fall of 2000, Rumah Sakit flew renowned Chicago recording engineer and Shellac bassist, Bob Weston, out to San Francisco to spend two brief days recording an EP at John Vanderslice’s Tiny Telephone Recording. This EP would be released as part of Temporary Residence’s subscription-based CD series, Travels In Constants (alongside Mogwai, Low, Explosions In The Sky, Eluvium, and MONO). Aside from the original pressing of 1,000 CDs reserved for subscribers, the studio recordings on Travels In Constants were never available again on any format or platform.Reuniting with Bob Weston to meticulously remaster the original master tapes, Rumah Sakit 25 collects the band’s debut album and their long out-of-print Travels In Constants EP into one exceptional package. Featuring new cover art from old friends and collaborators, Jeremiah Maddock and Marty Anderson, the expansive gatefold 2xLP includes full-color printed inner sleeves featuring hundreds of previously unpublished photos documenting this inspired early era in the band’s history, as well as a massive full-size 24-page art book of previously unpublished artwork by Maddock. It’s an exquisite opus that masterfully captures a special band at a special time.


Even in this age of near-total Internet accessibility, Charlie Megira is a modern mystery. A casual search turns up little aside from a few cryptic articles. His brief career unfolded during a changing of the guard in the music industry, opening on the death of the compact disc and ending just prior to Spotify’s IPO. For an artist like Megira, living far away from a major music outpost, there was more chaos than structure for his recordings to exist and find an audience. This collection is the first attempt at putting the pieces together, compiling a life’s work of an artist whose spark almost shined unto the world.
His was a music both familiar and entirely alien at once. It touches on corners of darkness, an isolation both lonely and sweet, all wrapped in a cold glow that draws the listener into each note, each melancholy melody triggering unrecorded experiences. His various projects put out music which began as a junction point between Link Wray’s surf guitar and the theatrical psychobilly of The Cramps, took a turn towards goth-inflected post-punk, and towards the end of his career would sojourn back into his earlier musical fascination with late 1950s and early 1960s rock ‘n’ roll.
The Israeli guitarist recorded seven albums worth of material in 15 years during his all-too-brief 44 trips around the sun.Tomorrow’s Gone collects 24 of these tracks for a double album journey across his career, accompanied by a lavish booklet that documents his tragic existence. Armed with only an Eko guitar, a black tuxedo, and his signature wrap-around shades, Charlie Megira was a mold-breaking artist who disintegrated while we were all staring at our phones.

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.

A cosmic voyage into the unknown It’s hard to imagine El León Pardo, a loyal advocate of some of the most advanced projects in which folklore is the road map and the destination itself, without his kuisi. It’s hard to see him with his hands free. Always holding on to that ancestral instrument, that pre-Colombian flute that survived the conquest and has become a symbol of resistance, overcoming the ravages of time, the imposition of ideologies, dogmas and religions. Despite all that, the kuisi continues with its liberating sound, the power of its cry, its invitation to dance, its sound a cure and a blessing. That’s why it leads the way in this Viaje Sideral (“Space Voyage”), an astral journey in which the kuisi is the vehicle and the life force of the rhythm. Viaje Sideral feels like floating eternally in the infinite cosmos. This second long player from El León Pardo is inspired by humanity’s relationship with the stars, escaping to mythical planes and led into a trance by Caribbean percussions, analog synths, deep bass, electric guitars and the hypnotic vibrations of the kuisis and trumpets that complete the soundtrack of this voyage. Through these nine songs, El León Pardo continues to create a sound of his own, evolving in his intention to pay tribute to the psychedelia of the tropical world of the Caribbean in the 1970s and 80s, but this time also taking as reference artists like Terry Riley, Kraftwerk and Mad Professor, including the roots of ambient and electronic music with the characteristic sound of the kuisi, an encounter of dreamlike and astral sounds, with the music of the bandas pelayeras of the tropics and figures like Pedro Laza and Juan Lara. In this new universe the Cartagena trumpeter dialogs with the past, processing the ideas that have emerged over the years and morphed into his personal search that gives an identity to his ideas, nurtured by figures like producer Diego Gómez (Llorona Records, Discos Pacífico, Cerrero) who awoke his interest in electronic instruments, Edson Velandia and kuisi maestros like Juan Carlos Medrano and Fredy Arrieta. In his sound there is a particular feature, one that contains histories of personal experiences, accompanied by the kuisi, including ancient Zenú flutes dating from between 600 and 800 AD and which helped create the atmosphere of “Invocación.” “Viaje Sideral,” the song that gives the album its name, was born from a dream in which two stars speed towards the earth and an imminent collision. As the record continues, the stellar connection becomes clear with songs like “Urmah” with Edson Velandia, inspired by an article about extra-terrestrial races and how the Urmah were a race of hominid felines, the greatest geneticists of the universe; and “Cumbia espacial,” featuring rapping from N. Hardem, seeking to create that aura of immensity and consciousness of the infinity of the universe. So it is that between the earthly and the cosmic, El León Pardo offers a voyage under his command. Along the way we find elements that allow for escape through contemplation and the dialog between electronic and analog, connecting the synthetic aspects of the stellar universe, anchored to the earth and rooted in the unmistakable tropical sound of percussion and rhythmical woodwinds.
