Profiling producer Theppabutr Satirodchompu — the first in a series of albums celebrating the key-players of modern molam music, from Northeast Thailand. Limited vinyl from Light In The Attic.

‘Following up This Is Frafra Power, from the same Top Link studio, this is the music you hear on the cell phones, car speakers and sound systems around Bongo and Bolgatanga, the major cities of Ghana’s Upper East region. A mix of local rhythms and melodies played on traditional instruments, combined with producer Francis Ayamga’s Fruity Loops madness and Cubase electro, topped with the rhymes of local youngsters.
‘Zologo means crazy in Fare Fare (also known as Frafra), the main language here. This is fierce, energetic, joyfully obstinate music; wonderfully bonkers.’

Stunningly beautiful, poignant music from Bilād al-Shām — ‘the countries of Damascus’, known nowadays as Syria, Lebanon and Palestine — including performances from the very first recording sessions in the region.
The legendary, moody Beirut singer Būlus Ṣulbān is here — some historians have him singing before Egypt’s Pasha Ibrāhīm Bāshā during his military campaign in Syria, in 1841 — and Ḥasība Moshēh, Jewish ‘nightingale of the Damascene gardens’. Thurayyā Qaddūra from Jerusalem; Yūsuf Tāj, a folk singer from Mount-Lebanon; Farjallāh Baiḍā, cousin to the founders of Baidaphon Records… Musical directors like the lutist Qāsim Abū Jamīl al-Durzī and the violinist Anṭūn al-Shawwā (followed by his son Sāmī); such virtuosi as the qanun-players Nakhleh Ilyās al-Maṭarjī and Ya‘qūb Ghazāla, and lutist Salīm ‘Awaḍ.
Even at the time, notwithstanding such brilliance, public music-making was frowned upon as morally demeaning, especially for women. Musical venues were generally dodgy. Ṣulbān once cut short a wedding performance for the Beiruti posh, after just one song, he was so disgusted with his audience.
‘If I had to tell you about the catcalls,’ one commentator wrote about the musical theatre of the time, ‘the stomping of feet, the sound of sticks hitting the ground, the noise of the water-pipes, the teeth cracking watermelon seeds and pistachio nuts, the screams of the waiters, and the clinking of arak glasses on the tables, I would need to go on and on and on…’

At the close of the 1970s, just a couple of years after the classic psych-funk of Float, Wilf Ekanem and crew trained their frazzled peepers on Disco. Two classics here to blow your soul on fire.

Scintillating fusion from 1976, produced by Airto Moreira, with arrangements by George Duke, featuring dazzling turns by the likes of Hermeto Pascoal, Raul de Souza, Egberto Gismonti, and Robertinho Silva. Wonderful stuff.

The Groupe Asko recorded in 1991, with Taj Mahal on two tracks.

Pure Malian blues for the heart and soul.

‘Wild ecstatic vocals, distorted electric guitars, rocket bass, and an 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 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. Locally and even nationally renowned bands play 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.
‘What results during these ceremonies is unclassifiable 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.’