‘Japanese classical music and dance, traditionally performed by families of musicians linked to the ancient Imperial court, and later passed down in Buddhist temple ceremonies and Shinto shrines, Gagaku is the oldest of the Japanese performing arts, with a history more than a thousand years old. Founder and director of the Reigakusha ensemble, Shiba Sukeyasu descends from the Koma clan, dating back to the end of the 10th century. The recordings partly reflect repertoires borrowed from Chinese music between the 5th and 9th centuries.
‘The eternal breath of the flutes (ryuteki and hichiriki) creates a sort of suspension of time, together with the hypnotic and hallucinatory atmosphere of the mouth organs (shō). The meditative tone of the string instruments (bika and koto) that punctuate the voids and silences is impressive, as is the enigmatic percussion section, with the tolling of the gong (shōko) and the calibrated beats of the drums (taiko and kakko).’

‘Mariolina Zitta began working with natural sounds at the end of the 1980s, developing a passion for speleology. Her encounter with Walter Maioli was fundamental, guiding and influencing her definitive research into sound archaeology and the primitive sources of musical acoustic phenomena. In these recordings Mariolina conducts a magical ritual as a cave priestess, celebrating the icons par excellence of the mysteries of the night: bats. The specific frequencies of the calls of these fascinating creatures are recorded with special detectors used by ecologists, creating an organic synthesizer. The fusion with the sounds of natural objects (stones, stalactites, logs, bone whistles, Tibetan bells, mouth bows, trumpet shells) and the vocal modulations of harmonic singing allow us to travel into a still unexplored sound dimension, through an evocative experience of total sensory listening. It is an arcane landscape filled with pure vibrations, magnetic resonances and aquatic sounds; an ancestral enchantment on the border between consciousness and dreams, a symbolic liturgy of primordial reverberations, echoes and whistles.’
An edition of 200 copies.

‘The first 12” in a new series of singles collecting one of Bryn Jones’ innumerable DAT tapes that would show up at the labels he worked with sans any identifying marks.
‘The six-minute A side layers multiple voices (a background, faraway wail that either is or is akin to a muezzin, and a flatly declaimed two-word phrase that periodically halts proceedings) over his classic slightly brickwalled hand percussion for a strangely meditative experience as Jones phases elements in and out, more or less prominently in the mix. The thirteen minutes of the B side, however, open in a surprisingly dreamy place for Muslimgauze, with a looped ascending synth pad and beautiful sampled singing only gradually acquiring percussive accompaniment. As with the other side, Jones is content to let these elements interact and swap spaces in the mix for the duration, trusting in the sturdiness of his chosen components to carry the listener through.
‘Hand sewn sleeve. Very limited.’

This is fire. Ring the alarm.
The opener is MM’s first recording, aged seventeen; a 45 on Amha Records. The remainder revives his 1976 LP for Kaifa, produced by Ali Abdella Kaifa aka Ali Tango, and featuring such mainstays of the scene as trumpeter Shimèlis Bèyènè, Dawit Yifru on keys, and the great Tilayé Gèbrè on saxophone and flute. In the teeth of the burgeoning Red Terror of the Derg junta, this LP was the swansong of Swinging Addis, and arguably its absolute masterpiece.
Intense, roiling Ethiopian afrobeat. Utterly killer; hotly recommended.

A dazzling mixture of stone classics and gems buried deep in the Sukisa catalogue. Excellent booklet.

‘While exploring the Hawaiian guitar with its clear, airy, plangent, psychedelic effluvia, he continues to replicate the piano comping technique, and adds two missing strings to his bow: a simulation of the sanza (likembé or thumb piano), whose sounds he reproduces right down to the noisemakers of the tiny tin rings, on the one hand, and the sounds of the Luba balafon on the other… Docteur Nico is a genius of our time, whose style makes him the supreme exponent of the most important guitar school in Congolese music. He is recognized by his peers as the greatest African solo guitarist of all time.’

‘Sangam means ‘meeting place’ in Sanskrit. Don obviously knew exactly what he wanted to do, and Latif immediately understood, his fingers fizzing across the tablas at frightening speed… It was Don who suggested that Latif overdub new tabla parts to enrich and add complexity to the first takes. We could reasonably have expected to spend the night doing this because this was the first time the percussionist had done this. It took him all of five minutes to get used to listening to the first tracks over the headphones before playing them without the slightest mistake. When we got to the timpani, which he was playing for the first time, his keen sense of pitch and tone once again did miracles. During one take, just for the fun of it Latif started to play a fairly slow, disconnected duple time, moving on to three and then four… all the way up to 19 by which time his fingers were whizzing invisibly across the skins, leaving us in awe and him looking as if he didn’t know what the fuss was all about. All this just made Don even keener to impress his musical companion for a day…
‘Of course, the subtleties of this album call for greater analysis, for example the meeting between the Malian doussou n’gouni and Indian tablas, the Hammond organ taking over from the tampura, 5 1/4 time as if it were the easiest thing in the world, the reinvented Indonesian gamelan… and the lyricism of the pocket cornet.’

Classic, jazzy, funky zouk, from Guadeloupe.

‘Masterful arrangements, inventive rhythms, rich harmonies, and a perfect balance of flute and saxophone interplay. Funk, Jazz, Gospel, Afro, and traditional elements all merge seamlessly into something unique and timeless.’
“South African spiritual funk gem. slick guitar, banks of horns” - Chris Albertyn (Matsuli).
“Dynamic South African funk. An album that will make you want to dance from start to finish” - Franck Descollonges (Heavenly Sweetness).

Expert, breezy version of Grover Washington’s Loran’s Dance (as sampled by A Tribe Called Quest, on Push It Along). Lovely stuff.

The dub is a militant, clattering, tearaway, raw monster-slayer, with Johnny Clarke at the controls, for his own label. Total murder.