Nyege Nyege Tapes

It's hard to believe it's taken this long for a proper retrospective of legendary Los Angeles collective C.V.E. "We Represent Billions" is a crucial portrait of one of the West Coast's most low-key influential crews - a hydra-like collective of rappers, producers, designers and engineers who were key members of the Good Life Cafe's open mic scene, going on to inspire artists like Jurassic 5, Kendrick Lamar amongst many other. Initially called Chillin Villain Posse before morphing into Chillin Villain Empire in the late 1980s, they eventually centered around the core trio of Riddlore, NgaFsh and Tray-Loc. The crew were years ahead of their time, self-producing music without samples and pioneering stream of consciousness lyrics that still sound fresh and innovative. CVE were self-sufficient and motivated from the beginning, named "Chillin Villains" because that's how they were perceived by white America. This social motivation was channeled into their groundbreaking performances at Good Life Cafe, the South Central session that evolved into Project Blowed and later on came to influence LA club night 'Low End Theory'. It was chronicled by Ava Duvernay, herself an MC in short-lived duo Figures of Speech, in her "This is the Life" documentary, where she interviewed CVE alongside Jurassic 5, Freestyle Fellowship, Abstract Rude and Busdriver. On "We Represent Billions", we're treated to a snapshot of the CVE sound from 1993-2003, their most prolific era. The retrospective collects music from the handful of albums the crew released on their own Afterlife Recordz label (mostly as limited edition CD-R's) plus many previously unreleased tracks and highlights their untethered eccentric creativity and sheer breadth of influence. Whether twisting twitchy West Coast electro on 'All Over Da Globe' or free associating over horror synths and foley sounds on 'Made in Chillz Ville' there's a sense that their music was just too future for its time. Assembled from heaving industrial samples and graced by back-and-forth tongue twisting flows, 'Thugs and Clips' is as eerie and hard-hitting as anything 2Pac's "The Don Killuminati: The 7 Day Theory" full-length. Fuzzed-out and unsettling, 'Calistylics' welds an ambient synth loop and bone-rattling percussion to Tricky-esque percussion, while the flickering closer 'Unicycle' is a cross between Dr. Dre's icy G-gunk pressure and Three 6 Mafia's pitch black lo-fi funk. In many ways, 2022 is the perfect time to rediscover this music: an urgent, creative fusion of spine-tingling pre-grime electronic minimalism and mind bending wordplay that still sounds completely idiosyncratic and utterly alien. When Nyege Nyege studios and residency space opened in 2014 we had the honor of welcoming our first resident, producer and MC Riddlore from CVE. Beyond Riddlore's release "afromutations" we also developed a friendship and admiration for Riddlore and his body of work as part of CVE, and 7 years later we are proud to add our small contribution to hiphop's history with this anthology.

Based in the Brazilian capital of São Paulo, the TORMENTA collective has long offered an alternative vision of the city's rich and colorful musical heritage. Operating as an ongoing series of DIY parties, creative agency and record label, TORMENTA has welcomed challenging sounds into São Paulo and released music from a cross section of Brazilian artists, including Fkoff1963, 177th & Digestivo. Their musical output is unrestrained: pop edits and unhinged hard dance rubs against errated heavy metal and lifted ambient drone. Anything's possible, as long as there's a social conscience and a middle finger to expectation. In 2019, TORMENTA put together a short film for the online edition of Nyege Nyege Festival. Since the crew is made up of obsessive horror movie fans, the direction was clear. "O Som do Labirinto" (The Labyrinth's Sound), is a terrifying and psychedelic audiovisual experience that's centered around a journalist attempting to examine a series of mysterious gatherings. Casting a side-eye to VICE's notorious series of fish out of water documentaries, the film drags its protagonist to hell through a series of grueling mental trials, all accompanied by TORMENTA's bloody toolbox of tortuous sounds. This full-length soundtrack finds the collective exposing their deep horror movie knowledge and finally flexing their film score muscle. The crew's ragged club DNA is still present, but mainlined into a Frankenstein's monster of John Carpenter synths, haunted piano loops and gruesome Lustmord-esque dark ambient drones. Alada's 'Running' straps a familiar hoover bass to bloodcurdling low-end rumbles and sparse, propulsive kicks; MTMA's 'O Pesadelo' sounds like broken clocks and music boxes at the "Evil Dead" cabin; 177th's 'Together' is a nightmarish beatless rave anthem that's like Lorenzo Senni on a bad trip; and Bruxax's 'Scream' is a full-on sludge metal freak-out that could sit alongside a Rob Zombie movie. The "O Som Do Labirinto OST" is Brazilian experimental club music in corpse paint holding a jack-o-lantern and weilding a bloody knife. Be afraid.

In the late 1980s, as techno and house made its way around Europe, mutating as it hopped from city to city, one young DJ from Curacao made a mistake that would inspire a brand new sound. While he was performing at Den Haag's Club Voltage, DJ Moortje accidentally dropped a dancehall track at 45RPM rather than 33, and let it play out. Thirsty for a hi-NRG sound, the crowd loved the squeaky vocals and rapid beat, and bubbling (or bubbling house) was born. For the next couple of decades, bubbling was a crucial part of Holland's Afro-diasporic club landscape. And as a new generation of wide-eyed young DJs and producers began to take the reins, it evolved accordingly. In the late-2000s, Den Haag-based teenage prodigy Guillermo Schuurman followed in the footsteps of his uncle DJ Chippie (one of the genre's co-founders) and cousins DJ Daycard, DJ Master-D, Stiko Jnr and DJ Justme, and began performing and writing beats. Using Fruityloops, he fused familiar bubbling rhythms with rap and R&B samples, trance synths and electro house wobbles, and his tracks quickly became a regular fixture on the Dutch circuit. "Bubbling Inside" is a collection of Schuurman's most essential cuts from the era (2007-2009), with a couple of newer productions added for context. Crafted solely for the dance, most of these tracks were never properly released and have been painstakingly hunted down and collected by the Nyege Nyege Tapes together with Sascha Roth from Pantropical in Rotterdam and De Schuurman himself. Hearing them together highlights just how forward thinking the young producer was, steering a Dutch institution into the future. 2008's 'First One' is a proto-Berghain belter, with booming bass-heavy kicks underpinning the kind of cheeky melodies that remain the calling card of the genre. 'Pier Je Bil!!' ratchets up the tempo, twisting bubbling's syncopated dancehall kicks into a rapid-fire club clatter and decorating them with steel-pan melodies. Elsewhere, 2019's 'Domina' shows how Schuurman's production style has developed as he mutates trap percussion, dubstep bass and eerie synth textures, while retaining the DNA of bubbling. "Bubbling Inside" is a testament to the evolution of the bubbling genre, as witnessed by one of its most visionary producers.

A member of of the Democratic Republic of Congo's Fulu Miziki band, the long-running eco activist collective forging experimental rhythmic music from repurposed trash, Kinshasa's DJ Finale dives into his country's history to brainstorm a dauntless hybrid dance sound. Kinshasa has long been a hotspot of musical fusion and innovation, and Finale builds on the popular template of soukous, or kwassa kwassa - a sound that developed in the mid-20th century from the rhythms of Cuban rumba and flexible emotionality of jazz. While soukous was initially performed with traditional instruments, Finale takes a minimal electronic approach, melting familiar rhythms into other Congolese trad-moderne styles like n'dombolo. 'Basss 30' bolts a brittle swinging beat over white noise bursts and acidic synth sounds; 'Pitschu Debou' features Fulu Miziki's Deboul on vocals, and folds soukous guitar riffs into a stark neo-trap frame; 'Tobandi' is raw and industrial, like Muslimgauze but aimed at the late night/early morning club set, with dangerous blasts of whirring electronics and jerky Congolese rhythms. "Mille Morceau" is a thoughtful mitigation of the Democratic Republic of Congo's past and present. It celebrates Kinshasa's rich history, while remaining proud of an energetic, youthful contemporary scene that's ready to look far beyond the borders.

At only 19 years old, Dar Es Salaam's DJ Travella represents a new wave of singeli producers who are driving Tanzania's breakneck dance sound into fresh, innovative spaces. Unaffiliated with any of the well-known studios like Sisso and Pamoja, Hamadi Hassani's music points singeli's fusion of taraab and techno towards the stars, locating a cyber-singeli style that's dense, kinetic and unashamedly sexy. Hassani started producing at 15, and a few years later his debut is a jagged set of hi-nrg dance music that pulls influence from across the globe, folding together elements of dembow, rave, R&B, and trap. But nothing's straightforward: opening track 'Crazy Beat Music Umeme 2' juxtaposes grinding 200bpm rhythmic intensity with urgent plucked strings, sounding like Timbaland conjuring a Thunderdome soundtrack for a Tanzanian street party. 'Crazy Beat Music Umeme 4' is even more barbed, with neon rave synths and hand-jammed percussion that's one part 808 Mafia and one part DJ Diaki. On 'London Bandcamp', Travella meshes hi-speed singeli backbeats with downtempo dembow kicks, squeezing out unexpected sleaze in the process, while on 'London Uwoteeee' there's an almost romantic sparkle, with ethereal vocals draped across woodblock cracks and whistles. But Travella sounds most nimble when giving the nod to Atlanta, and his merging of earworm synth hooks and neck-snapping East African rhythms on tracks like 'London Jomon Beat' will leave no doubt that the young producer is capable of bending singeli completely to his will.

A massive honor to be releasing the first in a four volume retrospective of one of Africa’s most influential musicians of the last 30 years - kuduro and tarraxinha pioneer and originator DJ Znobia. A genius of street music and the pivotal visionary of Angola’s digital musical modernism, Znobia is the inventor. Nyege Nyege Tapes went through over 700 tracks in Znobia’s archive (with double that number reputed to have been lost) to prepare a 4 Volume retrospective of his musical output from the late 90s to mid 2000s. Hailing from the musseke - or shantytown - of Barrio Do Rangel in the Angolan capital of Luanda, DJ Znobia was born Sebastião Lopes in 1979. In the late 1990s, DJ Znobia embarked on a journey to create a new genre that would capture the energy and spirit of the South West African country, the second biggest Portuguese speaking country in the world after Brazil. Znobia initially found renown as a dancer particularly fond of Michael Jackson, before teaching himself how to produce with Fruity Loops. Inspired by the fusion of traditional Angolan rhythms with electronic beats, he began experimenting with different sounds and styles. Through his tireless efforts, he eventually developed a genre that would revolutionise the Angolan music scene: kuduro. Kuduro, which means "hard ass" in Portuguese, combines elements of traditional Angolan music such as semba, kilapanga, and kazukuta with modern electronic beats, resulting in a high-energy and infectious sound. DJ Znobia's innovative use of synthesisers, drum machines, and sampled vocals gave kuduro its distinctive character, and he quickly gained recognition as the genre's pioneer and leading producer. The fact that much of his output happened while Angola was in the grip of a terrible civil war, which only ended in 2002, makes his story even more remarkable. With his groundbreaking productions, DJ Znobia paved the way for the widespread popularity of kuduro both in Angola and internationally in America and Europe. His tracks, such as “Batida 13 Horas'' became anthems of the genre, and his collaborations with local artists helped to propel kuduro into the mainstream. Kuduro has been hugely influential in Afro-diasporan communities in Portugal , and especially with the Príncipe Discos DJs and producers such as Dj Marfox, Dj Nervoso and Niggafox. In 2008, kuduro first arrived on the international scene, when British-Sri Lankan rap superstar M.I.A. collaborated with Znobia and Buraka Son Sistema on the single Sound of Kuduro which appeared on M.I.A.’s 2007 album Kala. DJ Znobia's influence as a producer, DJ, MC and public figure has had a great imprint in Angolan culture for the better part of the last three decades. He is also considered one of the pioneers of the hugely popular tarraxinha genre of music and dance; the sexy, percussive cousin of kizomba; the name means “little screw/ screwdriver”.

Having toured the world with Mczo and been at the helm of his own studio Pamoja Records since he was just 18, influential Singeli producer Duke, now 25, is one of Tanzania's busiest club alchemists. On his acclaimed solo debut "Uingizaji Hewa" we were introduced to his idiosyncratic "hip-hop Singeli" sound, a slower cousin to the Dar Es Salaam-rooted hard 'n fast club template that takes as much special sauce from Busta Rhymes and Eminem as it does the 200BPM clatter of genre veterans Jay Mitta and Sisso.On September's "Sounds Of Pamoja," we were treated to a closer look into Duke's studio, and specifically at his work with the city's best young MCs like Dogo Kibo, Pirato MC and MC Kuke. "Early Instrumentals" allows us to witness the depth of Duke's evolution with a selection of unearthed genre melting Singeli mutations laid completely bare without vocals.This 11-track set features some of his most arresting hybrid dance music yet, expressing his visionary fusion of contemporary rave sounds, US rap attitude, and Tanzanian dance history. While the roots of Singeli are in taraab, a popular fusion of East African and Middle Eastern traditional dance rhythms and melodies, Duke steers the sound into a synth-led, syncopated firework display that sounds spry and futuristic.Centered arounda bumping staccato melody and urgent synth strings 'Dukelo Fl Sing' echoes the lo-swung swagger of early Dr. Dre productions, but kicks the tempo into overdrive, decorating any gaps with flickering late-nite synths. 'Beat Kali Duke' meanwhile drives carnival trance leads through hard and fast rolls of kick drums, whistles and woodblock cracks. It's not all completely high speed either: 'Duke Selecta' is almost afro-house, with slow, sexy bass and woozy vocal melodies, and 'KKKKKKKKKKKKKKK' absorbs the propulsive spirit of South African gqom."Early Instrumentals" is the most varied picture we've been presented yet of Duke's rousing dance cocktail. IT's a physical call to action that assures listeners the genre is for movement, not headphone listening.

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. 

ケニアのグラインドコア・バンドDumaを世界へと紹介し、今年も大きな話題を呼んだ東アフリカ・ウガンダ拠点の先鋭的音楽フェスティバル／レーベル〈Nyege Nyege Tapes〉からは、ポルトガル北部の港湾都市ポルトの実験的なエレクトロニック・ミュージック界隈を代表する要注目なブラス・ユニット、HHY & The Macumbasを率いるJonathan Uliel Saldanhaが結成した”HHY & THE KAMPALA UNIT”による最新作が登場！アフロ・アフリカンな感性のもとで、原始的な躍動感を湛えたパーカッションやダブ、トランス、先鋭的なダンス／エレクトロニック・ミュージックまで溶け合わせたミュータントなアルバム！限定400枚。

Jako Maron was born and raised on Réunion, a small island in the Indian Ocean not far from Madagascar that's governed by the French Republic. The primary musical form to emerge from Réunion is maloya, a percussion-forward call-and-response style that differs from séga, another popular local genre, due to its lack of harmonic elements. Maloya was developed in the 19th century, when enslaved peoples from Madagascar and West Africa were taken to the island by French colonists who wanted to exploit the country's sugar cane and cotton fields; indentured laborers from South India also traveled to Réunion, bringing with them their own musical traditions. The sound then represented Réunion's own Créole musical language, using the keyamb, a sugar cane rattle, the Indian tabla, a barrel drum known as the roulér, a bamboo percussion instrument called the pikér, and other tools. Because maloya was such an emotionally charged expression from a suppressed underclass, it inevitably became associated with political revolution. This was a sound that was developed for and by the workers, and when France made the island an "overseas département" in 1946, maloya became synonymous with independence and freedom. As its popularity increased, so did its perceived danger, and the French government banned the music in the 1960s, only lifting the restriction years later in the 1970s. Once the ban was over, musicians began experimenting wholeheartedly with the form, splintering it into radically different sub-genres. Maron, who was born during the prohibition in 1968, was fascinated by the genre's open endedness and has been working to integrate it with electronic music since the 1990s, when techno and house sounds reverberated across the island from the USA, through Europe, Africa and beyond. Using modular synthesizers and drum machines, Maron offers a completely unique take on maloya. Like Charanjit Singh's disco-cum-acid raga fusions in the early 1980s, or more recently Equiknoxx's innovative and deeply personal fragmentation of Jamaican dancehall, Maron's electro maloya experiments take an initial idea and shuttle it across unfamiliar sonic landscapes. The all-important 6/8 beat is at the core of his music, with electronic thuds, zips and pings standing in for hand drums and congas, while the usually vocal call-and-response elements are handed off to wheezing synthesizers. 'Batbaté Maloya' is an appropriate introduction, with familiar electronic sounds used in surprising patterns - the maloya beat is the most striking element, but Maron adds effects, processes and swing that can't help but inspire comparisons to db reggae and dembow formulations. But he never stays in the same place for long. When Maron edges into minimalism, like on the cybernetic 'Maloya Valsé chok 1', his unsettling mood and noisy, percussive framework harmonizes with similarly prismatic grooves from Pan Sonic, or the Raster Noton catalog. And when he approaches long-form on 'Fanali dann bwa', it sounds as if he's integrating dubstep pressure with psychedelic kosmische sounds, submerging the beat beneath hypnotic synth wobbles and squeals. Maron's relentless examination of maloya and its application within electronic music is endlessly invigorating, and across 15 tracks (four are exclusive to this new vinyl edition) he makes a convincing case for the genre's continuing relevance as unshakable protest music.

In 2003, Pisco Crane assembled a six-piece band from motivated and talented like minds in the Kinshasa slums where he grew up. Pisco had been involved with a handful of local rap acts when he was younger, but after meeting legendary instrument builder Bebson De La Rue, he was inspired to follow a new path. He set about building instruments from the discarded trash that surrounded his city: bits of old computers or oil cans were fashioned into bass guitars and drums, and keyboards were bashed together using springs, metal pipes, and offcuts of tubing.If there was a core philosophy that guided Pisco at this stage in his journey, it was that everyone should have access to instruments, no matter where they come from or what their budget might be. And following in the footsteps of Bebson, Pisco locked into a Congolese tradition that touches on the eccentric genius of globally lauded artists like Konono Nº1 and Staff Benda Bilili. Over the years, Fulu Miziki's notoriety grew in the Kinshasa underground – their utopian vision of the future was infectious. Eventually, they were joined by performance artist, sculptor and fashion designer Lady Aisha, who offered the band unique colour and a soulful central focus.Influenced by Kinshasa's street performance scene, Aisha helped the band devise vivid masks and costumes that were as electric and singular as the instruments they played, and the scene was set. In 2020, as the world was plunged into lockdown, footage of Fulu Mziki went viral and their star began to grow exponentially, with a video of the band preforming the track ‘Tikanga’ racking up millions of views on Facebook. The band used this opportunity to work on documenting their sound, and shored up at the Nyege Nyege studios in Kampala for a year to assemble a definitive album. Recorded by HHY & The Macumbas' Jonathan Saldanha, this record captures the band's furiously innovative mixture of industrial sonics, spiritual jazz, punk, and Congolese soukous pressure.At their best, Fulu Mziki sound almost completely out of time, curving pounding rhythms around microtonal clanks, rousing chants and spiky sonics. On 'Mutangila', there's a hint of disco in the 4/4 stomp, but it's been shifted into a post-punk ritual, adorned with complex bell percussion and overlapping vocals. 'Congo' is even harder to define; electrified buzzes form a bassline, but it's the mindboggling rhythms that shuttle the track into psychedelic realms, led confidently by Lady Aisha's limber rhymes. Fulu positively slither on the sultry, industrial-influenced 'Sebe', while 'Tikanga' reminds of Congo's rumba-derived soukous traditions, materializing the sounds into the future with tight, pounding percussion and head-melting fx.The story of Fulu Miziki is sprawling and complex and constantly evolving, with various offshoots and band iterations. Two members left the band in 2016 to form KOKOKO! with French producer Débruit. Not long after they recorded this magnum opus album, several other original members left to form a similarly named outfit currently based in Europe. This other incarnation recently released an EP of electronic productions without the band founder Pisko Crane and lead vocalist Lady Aicha, on the UK based Moshi Moshi records. Pisco and Lady Aicha currently lead a different outfit in Kinshasa made up of completely new musicians. This full-length is the remaining proof of Fulu Mziki at their most vital and most complete – it won't be repeated – and can never be recreated. It's an essential portrait of one of the Democratic Republic of Congo's most innovative contemporary outfits, and some of the most surprising hybrid music you're likely to hear.

Uganda's famous Nyege Nyege Tapes festival, and in 2020 at the legendary nightclub Berghain in Berlin with avant-garde acts Gabber Modus Operandi and Harsya Wahono from Jakarta. The self-titled debut album of Nakibembe Embaire Group, who appeared on the album, is now available. Nakibembe is a small village in Uganda's Busoga Kingdom (one of four existing constitutional monarchies). Since ancient times, locals have set aside communal spaces for musical performances and social events. In its center was a deep hole, crossed by a groove to amplify a gigantic xylophone "enver" consisting of 15-25 wooden keys. While log xylophones are common in East Africa, the music played by the Basoga, an ethnic Bantu tribe in the east, is extremely special and unique, with its own tuning, dance, and auxiliary instruments. They are said to be the last group where up to eight players can play simultaneously around the enver, layering hypnotic polyrhythms while the ensemble members play vocals, shakers and drums. Its trance-like sound, fused with meandering polyrhythms and dazzling vocals, makes the past, present, and future seem to align.

One of the most eccentric characters to emerge from Lisbon's musical underground, Teteu has operated under a variety of shadowy monikers including Qraqmaxter, CiclOFF, and Erre Mente. A gifted visual artist as well as a composer, he's known for developing a philosophical mythology with his drawings, mostly using a ballpoint pen to sketch out elaborate, anime-style projects. Normal Nada is Teteu's most enduring project, and a full eight years after the game-changing ep "Transmutação Cerebral" he has finally assembled his long-awaited debut album. "TRIBAL PROGRESSIVE HEAVY METAL" materializes into Nada's meta-kuduro multiverse, developed from his deep knowledge of African and Portuguese musical forms. Years ago, he was an established archivist and genre historian, sharing archival material, mixes and rips alongside his original tracks, and while his online presence has faded, his rate of production hasn't. His tracks are rooted in Angolan kuduro and tarraxinha structures, but Normal Nada uses this only as a starting point, poetically overlaying and superimposing elements from trap, bass music, heavy metal and ambient sources to tell a story that's personal and unique. Listening to the album is like channel hopping through an interplanetary animated matrix, blasting off from colorful opener 'Beautyful Caos' with its grinding syncopation, crash-landing on the subversive 'Batida Hard Trance 2' that dissolves awkward European dance tropes into industrial-strength Portuguese electronix, and scuttling towards the album's bizarre title track, that juxtaposes crunching, overdriven drones 'n tones with kinetic kuduro rhythms. 'Alive' is even more cacophonous, layering machine-strength orchestral hits over militaristic, rolling 4/4 beats and unsettled subs. Born and raised in the Republic of Guinea-Bissau in West Africa, Normal Nada migrated to Portugal at 13 and was based for many years in Lisbon's San Antonio Dos Cavaleiros housing projects, after previously having lived in the Algarve. Teteu's compositions are a spiked expression of Lisbon's patchwork of batida styles, making a direct link to West Africa's vibrant musical legacy. Now he's returned to Guinea-Bissau and his music reflects this outstretched knowledge and energy, with a 360 degree view of the world's complex assemblage of cultures and conflicts. The album's somber finale is the best representation of his philosophy, a minor-key downtempo slow-burner that could sit comfortably alongside Actress or tarraxinha pioneer DJ Znobia. Called 'Dedicated to the Homeless', it shines flickering neon light on the world's unseen population, searching for hope where too many of us choose to look away.

Jesse Hackett returns with another unclassifiable co-mingling of genres, this time made in collaboration with Durban-based gqom trio Phelimuncasi. The group met up in Nyege Nyege's Kampala studio last year, spending three days engineering a sequence of tracks that turned the acts' respective sounds inside out, stretching urgent vocals over mutating backdrops of time stretched electronic drums, saturated noise and unstable synths.We last heard from Hackett on last year's chilling 'Shadow Swamps', a chilly, surrealist blast of disembodied folk and vintage electronics that added a cinematic twist to industrial music. Phelimuncasi meanwhile followed their acclaimed debut with the enormous 'Ama Gogela', asserting their dominance with tight, dancefloor-fwd, hook-led jams produced by some of the scene's most important beatmakers. In collaboration, both Metal Preyers and Phelimuncasi materialized a few worlds outside their comfort zones, with the Durban trio's words frothing from Hackett's marshy productions like echoes from another universe.Opening track 'Gidigidi ka Makhelwane' erupts in a fizz of beatbox percussion that loops noisily alongside Makan Nana, Khera and Malathon's stirring vocals, delivered in their local isiZulu tongue. Hackett's process is relatively restrained, offering Phelimuncasi the space to work their rousing magic unimpeded and adding punctuation where necessary. But when he takes more of a destructive role, it's just as impressive: on 'Gqom slowgen Chant', he corrupts his rhythm into a ritualistic pulse, letting the trio's words melt into metallic clicks and nauseous atmospheres.Elsewhere on 'Mgiligi wableka', Phelimuncasi's words create a rousing rhythm against a low-n-slow gqom thud from Hackett, and on 'Coffin Roller' he brings to mind '80s video nasty soundtracks, toying with analog synth sequences against Makan Nana, Khera and Malathon's distant chants. 'Like A Corpse' might be the album's most hollowed-out banger, turning the beat into a chopped 'n screwed drag that scrapes clamorously against Phelimuncasi's gurgling raps. Needless to say, there's nothing else like this.

Raja Kirik is Indonesian duo Yennu Ariendra and J. Mo'ong Santoso Pribadi, two radical artists who draw on Java's rich cultural traditions and its history of struggle against colonial oppression to create music that surprises, challenges and educates in equal measure. They root their music in the sound of shamanic trance dances, specifically the Jaranan, or Jathilan, a Hindu-Buddhist-era dance from the 11th Century that symbolizes the ways common people could overcome their rulers using evasion and agility. "Rampokan" is Ariendra and Pribadi's second album, originally released by cult Indonesian label 'Yes No Wave' in June 2020, and now presented in a remastered edition with an additional previously unreleased track in a limited double vinyl edition. The album is inspired by centuries of cultural resistance in Java. When Dutch traders established a colonial presence on the island at the end of the 16th Century, the Javanese used traditional dances to express their opposition. Raja Kirik express this historical friction with a mind-bending fusion of traditional Indonesian percussion, digital noise and over-driven Dutch hard-style. The album roots itself in the stage of Jaranan performance where the players become possessed, connecting to their subconscious mind and the body's collective memory and trauma. Ariendra and Pribadi reflect this by dousing evocative microtonal clanks from their arsenal of home-made instruments in expertly designed digital noise, and stringing the disparate elements together with the oppressive pneumatic pressure of high-BPM, warehouse-ready kick drums. Like the trance dances that inspired them, these tracks evolve and cycle from misery to ecstasy, spinning distinctive narratives with rhythm, texture and repetition. The album title is taken from "Rampokan Macan", a colonial-era arena battle between spearmen, criminals and wild animals. The ceremonial fights were provided to illustrate the strength of the Javanese Royal Kingdoms in the face of the Dutch East Indies government; Raja Kirik's sophomore album is a similarly lavish display, offering a charged confrontation of IDM, hard dance music and traditional sounds that spits fire into the face of tyranny. Of course, it is a recommended ritual trance / industrial picture scroll for fans around Gabber Modus Operandi and Senyawa!

When Rey Sapienz was eight years old, the Democratic Republic of Congo was plunged into the Second Congo War. The conflict lasted five years and was the bloodiest since World War II, leaving an indelible mark on East Africa and creating mass displacement and loss of life. But Sapienz endured, cutting his teeth as a young rapper at twelve, first performing to celebrate Congo's independence day. When he finished school, he headed to nearby Kampala to hone his craft and collaborate with local producers. But civil war broke out back home and he was forced to extend his stay in Uganda. Since then, Sapienz has established himself as a force to be reckoned with, co-founding the Hakuna Kulala label, teaching his Ableton Live skills to Kampala's young producers and releasing two acclaimed EPs. 

For his debut album, Sapienz embarks on an ambitious project that travels beyond the avant beatscapes of his early material. Alongside traditional percussionist, vocalist and dancer Papalas Palata and rapper Fresh Dougis, he has formed The Congo Techno Ensemble, utilizing their skills and experience to offer a statement that speaks to the past, present and future of the DRC. On "Na Zala Zala", the trio channel rich musical traditions and historic tension, evolving electronic and traditional forms into boundless sci-fi mutations. 

These tracks break open the stories all three artists accumulated in the DRC, augmenting radioactive techno-dancehall beats with radical, open-hearted words and rhymes. "I'm sick, I want to heal," Fresh Doughis raps on "Posa Na Bika" over a sparse, minimal syncopated beat. The track sits in a dream space, with haunting vocal loops dancing around Doughis' powerful Lingalan words. "I have become stupid, I have become useless, listening to everyone's advice." 

Elsewhere on the clattering 'Dancehall Pigme', Sapienz's metallic beats burn underneath Papalas' rousing chants. "I'm here trying to survive," he mourns. "What do I do to get what I deserve." The songs paint a tragic picture, yet reveal the hope and passion of three creative minds recounting difficult truths. 

"Na Zala Zala" is a heady cocktail of stylistic futurism and harsh reality that could be compared with Zazou Bikaye's seminal "Noir et Blanc or Denis Mpunga & Paul K.'s genre-breaking electronic experiments. But marked by the DRC's recent scars, it's a critical work that stands painfully alone.

In 2018, Rian Treanor left his home in Rotherham, UK, and headed to Kampala for a residency at Nyege Nyege's villa studio. The mind-expanding experience inspired his critically acclaimed 2020 full-length "File Under UK Metaplasm", but that wasn't the end of the story. Treanor also spent time working alongside Acholi fiddle player Ocen James, developing an improvisation-heavy collaboration that would push both musicians' idiosyncrasies into completely new places. Treanor wanted this collaboration to be as tactile and reactive as a live performance with traditional instruments, so he set about working on a digital process that would synchronize with James' approach. Using physical modelling techniques, Treanor created an instrument that explored the tunings and sounds of the a'dungu, an arched harp, and the nah or nag. With Ocen playing his rigi rigi, a single string violin, they intuitively experimented with the spectral properties of sound, using texture and acoustic contours as their structural framework. They were able to develop a sound together that was unconventionally rooted in traditional Ugandan culture, but shuttled into different dimensions of noise, computer music and radical UK rave. "Saccades" is the buffer between two vastly different sonic universes, united in respect and sprightly curiosity. Treanor's hyperactive computer-controlled rhythms are immediately identifiable on opening track 'Bunga Bule', but the sound palette is distinct: it's more flexible and less digital. James' expressionistic fiddle strokes are a revelation, contorted into hoarse squeals and rough vibrations that rub and flex off Treanor's tin can shuffle. The fertile back and forth continues through the ruff DSP tumble of 'As It Happens', before James cracks open the melodic core of his instrument on 'The Dead Centre', allowing Treanor to dispense with rhythm and meet his fiddle strokes with heavenly drones. Each track steps down a different avenue for the two artists, from the nightmarish microtonal twang of 'Memory Pressure' to the 4AM inverted sci-fi club pressure of 'Naasaccade' and the folky dancefloor swing of 'Rigi Rigi'. And when the album closes on a cacophonous remix from Vienna laptop noise pioneers Farmers Manual it's an unexpected gift that makes perfect sense. "Saccades" is a cross-cultural collaboration that swerves simplicity but refuses to over-complicate itself - it's about interaction, improvisation and passion.

The Sator Arepo, or Sator Square, is an ancient word puzzle comprising five palindromes that's etched on various historical sites throughout the Western world. Its origins are unknown, but the square has long been thought to hold magical properties, used as a charm against illness and evil, to cure insanity or to determine whether someone was guilty of witchcraft. Self-styled "punk ethnomusicologist", acoustician and musician Julien Hairon uses this mystical symbol as the starting point for his debut Judgitzu album in an attempt to reconnect with his Celtic heritage, exploring how its hallowed messages might harmonize with contemporary Tanzanian dance music.Hairon has been traveling across the world for over a decade, collecting field recordings from countries such as Indonesia, Australia, Cambodia, China and Bangladesh, and presenting them on his Les Cartes Postales Sonores label, re-issuing any curious cassettes and CDs he came across on the PetPets' TAPES imprint. It was during this time that he became fascinated by rituals that involved spirits, prompting him to examine his own ancestry when he returned to Brittany. "Many artifacts in the landscape remain," Hairon explains, "and the power of spirits is still palpable." He represents this Celtic mysticism on 'Sator Arepo' with murky drones and magickal synth tones, using xenharmonic scales (tuning outside of standard 12-tone equal temperament) that reach back to the ancient world. These sounds are augmented with fast-paced, sci-fi rhythms informed by his time in Tanzania; "Singeli has contaminated me," admits the producer.The most astonishing example of this is 'Miracle', a thrusting soundsystem experiment that layers serpentine, bagpipe-esque electronic wails over extravagant clusters of blocky percussion. Driven by the frenetic 175BPM pulse that echoes through the streets of Dar Es Salaam - popularized globally by forward-thinking producers like Sisso, Duke and Jay Mitta - Hairon opens up a rare conversation, seeking to draw parallels between today's most urgent dance forms and the archaic rituals of antiquity. On 'Vitalimetre', Hairon drives his sonic palette into the red, harmonizing with Dutch hardstyle and gabber, and splaying distorted drones over maddeningly blown-out kicks and ratcheting percussion. 'L'or Des Fous' takes a more meditative route, prioritizing Hairon's eccentric tonality with expressive sheets of pitch-warped sound that ghost walk across energized, rattling beats.If you heard Hairon's last Judgitzu release 'Umeme / Kelele', described by Boomkat as "one of 2019's deadliest dancefloor sessions," then you'll know how mindboggling this material can be. And with 'Sator Arepo', the French producer deepens his reach, grasping a world that we've almost forgotten and juxtaposing it with a landscape most of us barely comprehend.

Titi Bakorta almost didn't make it. Born in and raised in Kinshasa, the Congolese multi-instrumentalist was on his way to Uganda when he fell of the boat as it traversed the mighty Congo River. Unable to swim, Bakorta was saved by a friend who dragged him to the closest city Kisangani, where he was unexpectedly acquainted with local singer Dancer Papalas. Soon they were performing in bands together, traveling across the continents and settling in Tanzania, South Sudan and Dubai - they even appeared in front of General Defao, the beloved Congolese vocalist who fronted legendary soukous bands Grand Zaiko Wawa, Choc Stars and Big Stars. Now based in Kampala, Bakorta offers his own unique take on Congolese pop and folk sounds, weaving traditional elements through a psychedelic lattice of guitar loops, mangled voices and eccentric beatbox rhythms on his debut full-length. He bends woodblock snaps on 'Kop' into stuttered blurs, wailing emotionally over twanging riffs and bizarre, theatrical xylophone twinkles. It's still pop music on some level, but curved around Bakorta's unwieldy personal narrative - there's a sense that everything could unravel at any time but it all hangs together, strengthened by Bakorta's confident, contemporary production smarts. 'Elles Vais' is more airy, with celestial soukous vocals that float above tight, electronic drums. Tangled guitar echoes overlap each other like dense, weaved tapestries, contrasting perfectly with Bakorta's urgent, driving pulse. Occasionally, he transcends completely, like on 'Molende' where his chants and phrases neatly flutter between praise music and contemporary R&B. "Hustling, hustling, hustling, everyday I'm hustling," an angelic voice coos over phased electric guitar plucks and looped, AutoTuned chorals. It makes perfect sense that Bakorta should team up with Metal Preyers' Jesse Hackett on the album's final track, the aptly-titled 'Titis Haunted House'. The two artists share a similar obsession with moonlit, carnivalesque soundscapes, and Hackett's eerie synths provide a suitably eccentric foundation for Bakorta's ghostly wails and fuzzy guitar sounds. This closes an album that's able to flaunt Congolese pop and folk sounds behind a vivid gauze of inventive production and songwriting quirks, introducing one of the country's most innovative talents.

From its founding in the late 14th century, the kingdom of Buganda has been celebrated through sound and nurtured a rich musical tradition in its royal court. Coming from across the kingdom, musicians would take turns in the palace to sound drums, xylophones, flutes, lyres, and more to praise and honour the existence of the kingship. In recent years however, the tradition has been more difficult to maintain, especially since 1966 where there was a violent attack on the palace that abruptly abolished the kingdom and during which royal musicians fled or were killed. And while the kingdom was re-established in 1993 as a cultural institution, many of the remaining musicians had since chosen to sideline their skills to deal with the issues of their day to day lives, the practice of the royal tradition waning in popularity, especially with younger listeners and players. But all is not lost. Scattered across the kingdom, a motivated team of older veterans and attentive young players are still keeping the tradition alive. Offering a transversal glimpse into the past and the present, "Buganda Royal Music Revival" collects recordings made in between the late 1940s and 1966 illustrating the older generation’s skills, and presents them alongside recent recordings featuring old and young musicians who still carry on this musical tradition, some even performing for the current king, Muwenda Mutebi II. The later were made during the shooting of the 2019 documentary “Buganda Royal Music Revival” that presents through a film what this album conveys through sounds: a packed dive into a century-old tradition. The music displayed here is diverse and vibrant, presenting a variety of styles and highlighting instruments that illustrate the depth and sophistication that stemmed from the royal court experience of Buganda. As a starter, the album opens with 'Mujaguzo'. Often translated as ‘The Drums of the Kingship’, the mujaguzo is a crucial ensemble for the cultural tradition, made from drums collected by the kingdom throughout its long history and numbering around 100 drums (historical records suggest there were at some point over 300). They are the vitality of the kingship packaged into sound. From here, we're introduced deeper to an array of instruments and textures, like the buzzing Bugandan lyre (endongo) by contemporary royal player Albert Bisaso Ssempeke, the resonant akadinda xylophone with its 21 large wooden keys, Temutewo Mukasa's restless praise sung with his harp (ennanga), the hand-made gourd trumpet (amakondere), the entenga "drum-chime" and its core set of 12 drums tuned like the amadinda xylophone, or the tightly intertwined melodies of the flutes ensemble (abalere). With the music, the hissing and swishing sounds of old tapes reminds at times the listener of the long process, from the original recording to its archival digitization, that allows the talent of past musicians to still vibrate nowadays. This rousing selection of music and moods is a unique and all too rare exploration of sounds that celebrates the common history of generations of musicians, and the question remains open as to how this rich cultural tradition will shape and be shaped by the upcoming Bugandan future, and what engagement it will trigger among audiences within, but also beyond, the kingdom of Buganda.

"Sounds of Pamoja" is Nyege Nyege Tapes' latest foray into the world of Tanzanian Singeli, the breakneck dance strain that's quickly moved from Dar es Salaam throughout the world. Following "Sounds of Sisso", a compilation that focused mostly on the Tanzanian capital's Sisso Studios, this set highlights recordings from Duke's Pamoja Records. And while its predecessor brought attention to the producers, "Sounds of Pamoja" showcases the wide variety of MC talent under the Pamoja Records umbrella, with production mostly handled by Duke. Tanzania is a country of young people - almost half of its population is under 15 years old - and singeli is a young genre. Duke started making music when he was 13 years old, and by the time he was 18 he had opened the Pamoja Records studio. He's joined on the compilation by a talented cast of young local talent: 20 year old Pirato MC, 19 year old Dogo Kibo, 20 year old MC Kuke, Dogo Lizzy, MC Dinho, MC Kidene and MCZO, the versatile rapper who accompanied Duke on a selection of global tour dates. The music is fresh and unpredictable, switching beats every few bars and rattling through hyper-local dance styles with jagged, joyful ease. But it's the MCs that push "Sounds of Pamoja" to the next level, capitalizing on the vitality of Dar es Salaam's musical landscape as they trade bars, switch flows and somehow keep up with Duke's lightning-fast productions. It's breathtakingly unique dance music that recalls the youthful spirit of Detroit techno or footwork, with rapid body movement, social combustion and tongue-twisting lyrical one-upmanship guiding the rudder.