World / Traditional / India
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Pick a small spot (a point) in front of you (a small knot of wood, a dog down the way). And tightly focus on this spot. And now slowly unfocus your gaze. Widen your gaze. Pan out without moving your eyes. Take it all in.
A smeared and pixelated surface, swelling of contour and light. (Monet’s seepages of light, Altman’s overlapping nomadic dialogue.) Once you have unfocused with little to no center of attention, slowly close your eyes. And please feel very free to notice the light. All of the light that your eyes knocked back as you dilated your focal point. This exercise can be repeated a few times. Unfocusing does not always come easily. And it is probably best to not put too much effort into it. Best to not employ too much pressure.
And we will not put too much pressure on this exercise to help us explain away the humidly, saturatedly psychedelic canopy of moan-‘n-twang and slackelastic-groove of The Dwarfs Of East Agouza’s Sasquatch Landslide.
Mitch Hedberg has a great joke about the Sasquatch: “I think Bigfoot is blurry. That’s the problem. It’s not the photographer’s fault. Bigfoot is blurry! And that’s extra scary to me, because there’s a large out-of-focus monster roaming the countryside.”
Sasquatch Landslide. A landslide of hazy configurations. Blurriness, far from a lack of detail, is an embroidering of detail, a horizontal expansion of surface and swarms of light. The name “Sasquatch” derives from the Salish word se'sxac, which means “wild men.” And Sasquatch Landslide is wild. Everything is unravelling. Offset. Décalage. A whole host of slippery tempos and pulses as the organs, guitars and saxophones loiter and lope over a skipping hop of beats, and everything emerges always mid-stream. It is all middle with no halfway point, no dead center, no bullseye. Everything twangs, moans, sweeps, slips, swings, skitters, slides, and grooves out of nowhere. And the almost-human voice with no mother-tongue.
There is something ecstatic (an elatedly miniscule frenzy) going on here but it is pushed beyond the ecstatic: a joyous-grotesque rolling right past trance to dance. Psychedelias appear out of the infra-spaces in between the apparitions and overlapping ‘regimes’ and registers—pushed and squeezed far beyond the recognizable. And these spaces groove joyously hard like some kind of illusive House music, houses completely submerged in molasses. BigFoot-work? (Oh my!) There is not a place to throw your anchor here in the furrowing humidity. That does, and it does, sound like some kind of landslide.
A psychedelic encounter is a brush with the marvel of otherness. The point from which we speak of other, becomes other itself, in an ever-storm of other-production that shreds ideas of knowing and understanding what we think is going on. Time unhinged from the clock. Space unhinged from the frame. An unpinpointing hallucination, a hot get-down, an untethered throw-down of oscillations, fiercely, joyously, exuberantly incomprehensible. Listening to Sasquatch Landslide, a wildly unhinged reverie.
Eric Chenaux and Mariette Cousty
Condat-sur-Ganaveix, February 2025
Intensely expressive free-verse vocal laments over sliding violins, hammered santouri, guitar, and oud - the hybrid sounds of the Mediterranean in the early 20th century. “Aman Aman” cry the singers on these recordings, their voices preserved on 78rpm discs cut between 1911-1935. The phrase roughly translates to “mercy,” a call of despair, but also one of joy and admiration. On many of these sides, that full range of emotion is transmitted at once. Some of these artists are legends, others lost to time. Nearly half are female vocalists, a big part of the Cafe Aman tradition but not as well represented on contemporary releases. All were affected by conflicts leading up to the Asia Minor Catastrophe of 1923, and the forced migrations between Greece and Turkey before and since. Their work reflects these journeys - devastating poems about losing love and losing home, backed by some of the best musicians of the era. Deeply researched over several years, we hear the precise, sensitive, and overwhelmingly powerful vocals of artists like Antonis ‘Dalgas’ Diamantidis, Sofrouniou, and Stellakis Perpiniadis, alongside revelatory recordings by largely unknown musicians whose work is shared here for the first time. Carefully remastered and restored by Jordan McLeod at Osiris Studio, the LP includes detailed historical and discographical notes by Stavros Kourousis, and poetic lyric translations by Tony Klein. Pressed on highest quality vinyl at Smashed Plastic in Chicago and co-released with the great Olvido Records.
At 19, Helviofox adds his signature to the batida template that by now seems to have been in existence since forever. Such is the strength of this primordial fountain, a source of rejuvenation. Also within the literal family: Helvio cites brothers Dadifox and Erycox as main influences.
Curiosity for the sound made him go into production by the time he was 13. A couple of years later (2020) he became co-founder of TLS with E8Prod, Alberfox, DiionyG and other mates. His talent fully developed since then, opening a slight detour that became a new path parallel to the main road.
Lively basslines anchor the beat directly lifted from tradition and clearly channeled to the dancefloor. Strong, well rounded grooves, a spot-on sense of timing and tempo, elegant atmospheres, all part of Helvio's notion of arrangement and his perception of dance music boundaries, stretching them just enough to present a challenge but not as far as to disconnect head and feet and risk losing the floor.
This liminal space between experimentation and popularity is both dangerous and attractive. There is no one formula. Precisely why it still retains plenty of fuel for current and future generations to contribute personal visions.
Co-released by Cairo's HIZZ imprint and Heat Crimes, Upper Egypt’s “King of Trobby Music” detonates another singular vision on Raasny—a 9-track suite of bruised street rhythms, electro-shaabi fireworks, and raw emotional voltage, beamed direct from El Minya to the world.
Abosahar has spent the last decade carving out his own micro-genre—Trobby, short for “True Being.” Here it comes into sharpest focus yet: a sound that blurs electro-shaabi, house, techno, trap and pop into dazzling, rough-edged collages, powered by cracked software, busted machines, and the immediacy of lived experience.
Raasny loops wedding-party ecstasy into journeys from Minya’s dusty streets to Cairo’s neon clubs. Tracks like “Bs Ya Baba” and “Shaabi Alarab” fold shaabi’s serrated synth stabs into mutant pulses; “Moled w Samar Haz” and “Moled Altenee” lock into hypnotic folk-ritual cadences; while the title cut “Raasny” surges with an almost devotional intensity, all cracked voices and distorted beats tumbling into the red.
What sets Sahar apart is his refusal of polish: everything is left jagged, overdriven, improvised, alive. His music is inseparable from the weddings, streets, and daily life of Upper Egypt—rooted as much in the dust and electricity of Minya as in the people who move to it.
Raised with little more than a battery-powered radio and homemade instruments fashioned from grass and cardboard, Sahar’s DIY ethos is burned into every second of Raasny. His recordings double as ethnography and autobiography—part diary, part sound-system weapon, part spiritual exorcism.
Already hailed across Cairo’s underground and carried abroad to stages in France, Switzerland and Germany, Sahar’s music still belongs first and foremost to the streets and weddings of Upper Egypt. Raasny makes that clear: this is music of and for the people, loud, ecstatic, and uncontainable.
Paris, 1978. Don Cherry walks into a French studio with a suitcase full of instruments nobody expected and meets Ustad Ahmed Latif Khan for the first time. No rehearsal, no plan, just two musicians who recognize each other immediately as kindred spirits. What happens next is one of Cherry's best efforts - an album only hardcore fans know about, recorded in Paris, released only in France in 1981, disappeared, and now back again in a special edition that demands attention. This is what "world music" should have been before the term got watered down into airport lounge background noise.
Don Cherry - the man who stood next to Ornette Coleman in Los Angeles and New York, playing trumpet and cornet through the birth of Free Jazz, that final structural revolution of American improvisation based on melody rather than harmony. But Cherry never stopped there. He had a voracious musical appetite and boundless imagination that pulled him toward India, Brazil, Africa, Indonesia, China - not as a tourist collecting sounds, but with deep personal engagement. His commitment ran deeper than novelty. This wasn't about exotic decoration. This was about a global vision of art and the human condition.
Ustad Ahmed Latif Khan - Delhi gharana lineage, new generation tabla master who extended what his predecessors had built, gained recognition as a soloist, ventured onto the international scene. Irregular rhythmic patterns, highly syncopated, rich in variety and originality. The kind of percussionist who could grasp Cherry's intentions immediately, warm up his fingers at astonishing speed, tune Cherry's entire diverse instrument collection - concert piano, Hammond B3 organ, chromatic orchestral timpani - with perfect pitch and no hesitation.
They had never met before the recording session. But they recognized each other immediately. Calm, focused, full of laughter. Cherry knew what he wanted to create. Latif posed no challenge - he was the answer. The result is an incredible mixture of jazz and Indian music that doesn't feel like mixture at all - it feels like the music that was always supposed to exist when these two worlds met at the right moment with the right people. Not fusion for fusion's sake. Not "exotic instruments" as decoration. This is two masters speaking the same language for the first time and realizing they'd been having the same conversation in different rooms for years.
Recorded 1978 in Paris. Released only in France in 1981. Disappeared. Forgotten except by those who knew. First reissued by Honest Jon's years ago. Now back in special edition format because some records refuse to stay buried.
Essential for anyone who thinks Don Cherry's best work ended with Ornette, or that "world music" has to choose between authenticity and imagination. This is both. This is neither. This is what happens when boundaries dissolve because they were never really there.
A collection of short-form compositions by shakuhachi player Lenzan Kudo, rooted in Zen spirit. In contrast to his long-form work “Noneness,” each track on this album spans approximately 2 to 5 minutes, distilling intense focus and spiritual depth into concise musical expressions. Utilizing the breath and overtones of the shakuhachi, the pieces incorporate ambient spatial processing, remaining grounded in the instrument’s traditional sonic world while embracing a contemporary resonance.
“Noneness” is a work by shakuhachi player Lenzan Kudo, featuring reinterpretations of traditional honkyoku and long-form improvisations rooted in Zen philosophy. Recorded in Hakone, Kanagawa, the album incorporates natural sounds and reverberations, maximizing the breath and spatial resonance of the shakuhachi. The title “Noneness” signifies ‘emptiness’ or ‘void,’ capturing traces of personal spiritual practice and dialogue with nature. The credits include acknowledgments to Ryuichi Sakamoto and Zen master Nanrei Yokota, with a written comment from Yokota also included. Transcending the boundaries of ethno, jazz, and ambient music, the album carries both spiritual and cultural depth.
In his first studio album, legendary singer John Katokye shines an unprecedented light on the rich vocal music of the Banyankore and Bahororo people of Western Uganda, bringing to the fore two singing styles intimately anchored in their century-long practice of cattle herding. When still a young boy, Katokye ran away from home to immerse himself in the traditional songs of his region. Herding cattle in different farms to earn a living, he roamed his homeland singing for several decades, refining his art form one performance at a time. Now approaching his 60th birthday, Katokye has become arguably the most talented and popular traditional singer alive in his region today.
Specializing in the style of ‘ekyeshongoro’, Katokye improvises short poetic sentences, like a long series of Japanese haiku, to convey morsel-sized impressions on the land and history of his people and their cherished cattle. On a regular performance, one or several singers usually back up the meandering of the lead vocalist, overlapping their verses in a continuous vocal flow – at times stretching well beyond ten minutes – transforming the moment into a long meditative experience. Marking the major twists and turns of their river-like performances, all the singers punctually raise their pitch together, steadily increasing the intensity of the current that pulls the audience along their mesmerizing praising chant.
Named after Katokye’s clan, ‘Abanzira’ pays tribute to the moral values and beauty of the women from his lineage, while ‘Ekyeshongoro Kyabakazi’ singles out the merits of the people of Karengo, a village at the heart of the Ankole region where Katokye settled with his loved ones. Throughout this song, Katokye peppers guttural breaths reminiscent of the mooing cows grazing in the hills surrounding his home. To say that the Banyankore and Bahororo people have a deep bond with their cattle might be an understatement in a culture where the generous eyelashes and quiet gaze of calves shape beauty standards, while the subtle taste of smoked milk flavours family reunions and friendly hang outs.
‘Okugamba Ente’ illustrates this intimacy well as Katokye salutes cows’ understanding of human nature, beating with his herding staff the pulse of another form of praise singing deeply rooted in the region, transporting listeners from the meditative river of ekyeshongoro to the dense and wordy waterfall of the ekyevugo style. Gluing words together to recite a dense series of sentences in one breath, ekyevugo singers draw on local myths and history while evoking cattle as signs of beauty and wealth to praise their audience and highlight the quality of the moments lived together at weddings, political rallies, or family gatherings. Acknowledging the praises, the audience usually concludes each flow with a short and vocal ‘eee’ during which the reciter quickly catches breath to draw strength and fire the next verse.
And the talent lives on in the younger generations as the album concludes with ‘Omuhogo gwa Rujeru’, foregrounding Katokye’s acolyte and longtime partner Samuel Rujeru who takes the lead in driving a song usually opening fire sessions, calmly warming up the audience and performers for an evening of storytelling. As they listen to the singers’ whirling melismas and passionate bursts, it’s not unusual for people to raise their arms in the air in imitation of the iconic long horns of their beloved cattle with which they share their lives in the bushy hills of the region. Rendered for the first time in an intimate studio recording session, listeners can now feel the warmth of these amazing vocal styles that for so many years accompanied the lives and dreams of the Banyankore and Bahororo people.
In English, the Xhosa word “useza” means to arouse or elicit a feeling, and it perfectly illuminates Sekuru Chaka Chawasarira’s lifelong practice. The eminent Zimbabwean artist and educator is among the last remaining masters of the matepe, a large mbira-style instrument that’s played with both thumbs and index fingers to expand its rhythmelodic complexity. And on ‘Useza’, he fully demonstrates the matepe’s illusory potential, overdubbing hypnotic sequences to provoke shifting harmonic progressions that ethnomusicologist Andrew Tracey labeled “kaleidophony” back in 1970. An ancient art within North-Eastern Zimbabwe’s Shona culture, the matepe is traditionally used in local rituals, where its ambiguous psychoacoustic mirages evoke trance states to aid communication with ancestral spirits. Only half a century ago, ceremonies amongst the Sena Tonga and Kore-Kore peoples would involve up to six musicians, each playing interlocking polyrhythmic sequences. In 2025, the music is threatened with extinction; following decades of vilification from Zimbabwe’s evangelical and pentecostal churches, who associate the rituals with witchcraft, there are fewer than ten master musicians left.
Called the “Mozart of mbira” by composer Keith Goddard, 83-year-old Chawasarira has been developing his relationship with the instrument since he was just a young man. He grew up in a Catholic mission and was dedicated to the church, founding his own choir, but he maintained his connection to Zimbabwean culture by studying the region’s traditional rhythms. Chawasarira’s father had been a prominent drummer, and when Chawasarira was older, working as a teacher at the mission school, he ventured out to observe local mbira ensembles, eventually participating regularly in spirit ceremonies. And although there were tensions between Chawasarira’s work with the church and his interest in controversial folk music, he managed to strike a precarious balance, introducing drums to his Catholic services in the 1960s and even composing a mass for karimba. Chawasarira’s reputation grew steadily; he was invited to Lousville University in the 1990s to represent Zimbabwe at a contemporary composition festival, and his youth ensembles helped popularize Shona mbira traditions not just at home, but around the world.
Today’s evangelical Christians are less tolerant than the Catholic church however, with fundamentalist preachers blaming mbira music for all manner of tragedy. Chawasarira remains undeterred; living in Chitungwiza, he builds matepes and karimbas and tutors children, and ‘Useza’ is a celebration of his years of experience, a way for the maestro to preserve his repertoire for future generations. Recorded at the dead of night while the rest of the township is sound asleep, the album reproduces the mesmerizing sound of a Shona ritual by overlaying discrete fractal sequences filled with haunting overtones and buzzing rhythms. Chitungwiza works alone, harmonizing with himself and chanting over the weightless polyrhythms to create musical illusions that sound different depending on where the listener might be positioned. It’s a technique that’s been approached by various minimalist composers and avant-garde explorers in the 20th century and beyond, and Chitungwiza goes straight to the source, skillfully substantiating kaleidophony and safeguarding Zimbabwe’s heritage.
Tsapiky music from Southwest Madagascar features wild ecstatic vocals, distorted electric guitars, rocket bass, and the amphetamine beat! Unlike anything else, this is THE high life music you've always wanted - ceremonial music played with abandon and extreme intent, honoring the living and dead alike. In Toliara and its surrounding region, funerals, weddings, circumcisions and other rites of passage have been celebrated for decades in ceremonies called mandriampototse. During these celebrations – which last between three and seven days – cigarettes, beer and toaky gasy (artisanal rum) are passed around while electric orchestras play on the same dirt floor as the dancing crowds and zebus. The music, tsapiky, defies any classification. This compilation showcases the diversity of contemporary tsapiky music. Locally and even nationally renowned bands played their own songs on makeshift instruments, blaring through patched-up amps and horn speakers hung in tamarind trees, projecting the music kilometers away. Lead guitarists and female lead singers are the central figures of tsapiky. Driven as much by their creative impulses as by the need to stand out in a competitive market, the artists distinguish themselves stylistically through their lyrics, rhythms or guitar riffs. They must also master a wide repertoire of current tsapiky hits, which the families that attend inevitably request before parading in front of the orchestra with their offerings. This work, a constant push and pull between distinction and imitation, is nourished by fertile exchanges between various groups: acoustic and electric, rural and urban, coastal or inland. What results during these ceremonies is a music of astonishing intensity and creativity, played by artists carving out their own path, indifferent to the standards of any other music industry: Malagasy, African or global.
With its new project focusing on the songs of fishermen in Portugal, the FLEE platform attempts to combine in-depth anthropological research with a hybrid contemporary and artistic reflection on an important facet of Portuguese social and cultural history.
Through working songs from the 1940s, 60s and 80s recorded in the Algarve region, the project attempts to document the history of these fishermen, the nature of their hardships and often exploitative conditions, as well as their gradual encounter with important economic and political changes that affected the country in the 1970s. More than observing the fishermen directly, the project also investigates the birth of ethnomusicology in the country through the work of the French ethnomusicologist Michel Giacometti, in a period when the country gradually began to "discover itself" and its regional cultures in a reflexive way.
Mount Athos, known as the «Holy Mountain,» is a monastic peninsula in northeastern Greece, central to Eastern Orthodox monasticism for over a millennium. Its twenty monasteries house around 2,000 monks dedicated to prayer and worship, which songs have echoed across the Aegean Sea for centuries, heard only by visiting pilgrims, isolated from conventional time and global events. After several years of research, and several visits to the retired community, we are happy to present our new project «Athos : Echoes from the Holy Mountain» dedicated to this liturgic music and repertoire that seems to be evolving outside the usual boundaries of time and space. Rooted in Byzantine chant, this a cappella tradition essential to monastic life featuring intricate yet serene melodies designed to facilitate prayer and contemplation, using a system of modes and scales to create a meditative atmosphere.
Trans-disciplinary, this effort of documentation also comprehends an artistic re-interpretation aspect inviting contemporary Greek and foreign artists to reflect on the subject. A musical compilation which captures original field recordings from the 1960s and from today capturing the essence of liturgical music on Mount Athos, but also new compositions inspired by them by artists such as Holy Tongue (UK), Jay Glass Dubs (GR), Prins Emanuel & Inre Kresten Grupp (SWE), Jimi Tenor (FI), Gilb’r (FR), Daniel Paleodimos (GR), Esma & Murat Ertel (TUR) and Organza Ray (GR/US).
A trilingual book in English, Greek and French, featuring essays, articles, photographs and artistic comissions reflecting around the theme giving a voice to contributors such as , Stratos Kalafatis, Theodore Psychoyos, Tefra90, Father Damaskinos Ulkinuora, Prof. Thomas Apostolopoulos, Makar Tereshin, Phaedra Douzina-Bakalaki, Michelangelo Paganopoulos and Alberto Cameroni. The release of the book and the record will be followed by a cycle of exhibitions and conferences, deploying FLEE’s year-long research on Mount Athos, as well as its numerous commissioned artworks.
Afro-jazz ancestral healing at the crossroads of tradition and tomorrow
Matsuli Music is proud to announce the first vinyl reissue of Philip Tabane’s Sangoma ("Spiritual Healer") since its 1978 release. Remastered from the original tapes with lacquers cut by Frank Merrit and pressed on 180g heavyweight vinyl at Pallas in Germany, this definitive edition re-asserts the power of one of South Africa’s landmark recordings. Featuring new liner notes by cultural critic Kwanele Sosibo and artwork restoration by Siemon Allen, Sangoma returns in full force through an extended Malombo line-up, fronted by Tabane's spellbinding guitar - ancestral, timeless, and unbound.
Philip Tabane (1934–2018), the mercurial guitar genius of South African music, forged a sound that was as rooted in the spirit world as it was in daily life. With the Malombo Jazzmen of the 1960s, Tabane disrupted Western notions of “jazz,” bringing the resonant rhythm of cowhide malombo drums into the foreground. While outsiders and the uninitiated often reached for labels like “primitive yet sophisticated,” Tabane and his collaborators named it more truthfully: “music of the spirit.”
By the time of Sangoma, Tabane stood at a crossroads. Fresh from a period of three years’ touring in the United States where he graced the Newport Jazz Festival, and played alongside Miles Davis, Herbie Hancock, Pharoah Sanders and others, he brushed off comparisons with characteristic self-assurance: “No, I don’t play like Miles. Miles plays like me.” Back home in South Africa, and with a newly signed international distribution deal with WEA Records, he harnessed this momentum into a larger band setting, capturing a rare intensity.
The result was Sangoma—an album that bridges contradictions: expansive yet intimate, celebratory yet haunted by exile and return. Tracks such as “Sangoma,” “Hi Congo,” and “Keya Bereka” are not simply performances but living testaments, songs that would remain in his repertoire for decades. Unlike the moody, immersive character of much of his work, here Tabane is on the move—urgent, restless, uncontainable. As he announces on the second track, “Maskanta wa tsamaya” (“something that kicks ass”).
More than four decades on, Sangoma is both an historical document and a timeless invocation. From his home in Mamelodi to the world and back again, Tabane’s spiritual healing endures—raw, electric, and unbowed.
Clube da Esquina 2 is a 1978 album by Brazilian singer-songwriter Milton Nascimento. The album serves as a continuation to the Clube da Esquina album and retained the collective approach, stylistic diversity, and experimental elements of its predecessor, spread across two LPs. Musically, the album reflects the Brazil’s social contradictions, exploring themes of hope and despair, beauty and hardship, and the tension between historical trauma and uncertain futures. The album featured a broader range of collaborators, including Brazilian artists like Elis Regina, Chico Barque, and Lo Borges.
