Late seventies; Channel One.

‘A psychoacoustic odyssey through the American South, influenced as much by Dock Boggs as by Luc Ferrari. This isn’t ‘avant-folk’ as per, but more expansive avant-garde compositions using components of traditional music as tools for storytelling. There are banjos, but they bounce around the stereo field in hypnotic patterns; there are autoharps, but they’re bowed, left detuned by time and humidity, and augmented with sounds of screeching cicadas.
‘Check out the haunted, ambient interpretation of the murder ballad Omie Wise, featuring fourteen different versions of the song time-stretched and overlaid with pedal steel by Tongue Depressor’s Henry Birdsey. It’s a wild listen!’

A welcome reissue of this 2013 collaboration between Onra — the Chinoiseries producer — and Buddy Sativa. Deep, spiritual jazz from the heart. Lonnie Liston Smith is a guiding light.

This is ace.
Sweet harmonies; a majestic, more-ish rhythm, with a touch of the natural mystic. A lover’s open-hearted overture without the usual screwface braggadocio: ‘Me look like a lion but me humble like a lamb.’
An under-stated classic by the Indian-Jamaican Silpatt brothers.

Mental baile future-funk.
Impossibly, round two ratchets through higher gears than round one. The cutting and scratching skills are brutally imperious, by turn eviscerating in split seconds a trembling flock of far-flung musical prey. Out of the wreckage looms the apotheosis of apocalyptic Techno Scratch terror; the ebulliently vengeful prophesy of forebears like Grand Wizzard Theodore and the Knights of the Turntable.
Blisteringly hot.