Jarvis Cocker’s thrilled to bits — ‘Here, at last, is the the soundtrack to maybe THE underground film of all time in all its crazy daisy glory’. A mental cut & paste of Czech orchestras, folk, jazz and experimental sounds.

Classy, spaced funk, originally issued in 1981 by Phonodisk, the most ambitious Nigerian label at that time. The Mighty Flames band expertly blends an Afro-cocktail of Roy Ayers, Kool And The Gang, Chic…

Bilo is a kind of depression; the valimbilo is the person who helps you through it.
The cure for bilo is music. The patient sits opposite the players, who hone in on the sickness, which must be awakened, seduced and ambushed from every angle by sound, till breaking point. Once the bilo is overcome with the music, the patient recovers, and the ceremony ends.
Another walloping dose of Tsapiky music from Madagascar.

Library music by the Madlib favourite, originally released on the legendary Italian label FLIRT in 1975: sweetly naive pop exotica.

Led by guitarist Dekula Kahanga, veteran of the legendary Tanzanian dance band Orchestra Maquis Original; also featuring Congolese singer Gaby and musicians from Kenya, Uganda, Senegal and Sweden.
Hypnotic, infectious, graceful soukous; newly recorded, channelling thousands of rollickingly good nights out. (The band plays monthly at the not so glamorous club Lilla Wien in Stockholm.)

A ton of drunk people stomping about in a circle to the frenetic, overdubbed, distorted sound of electric saz, synthesized drums, cimbalom, and sheep sound effects: yep, Bengi Folk, Derdiyoklar-style.

A dreamily odd, Antillean blend of synths, flute and drum machines, featuring a children’s choir. Originally a tiny 1986 pressing in Guadeloupe, revived by the Diggers Digest crew.

A Lagos fuji session sets Diplo tearing up walls and stomping across the ceiling; a fragment of afro-folk percussion triggers the Generals’ brilliant futurism; and two sumptuous cuts of the original deal.

‘Diving deeper into the archives of one of the greatest French Caribbean labels, Disques Debs, based in Guadeloupe. Founded by the visionary Henri Debs in the late ‘50s, the label and studio operated for over 50 years, releasing more than 300 7” singles and 200 LPs, making it a cornerstone of Caribbean music history. The label bridged traditional genres like biguine and gwoka with contemporary styles like cadence, compas, and zouk. Volume 3 in this series spotlights one of the label’s most dynamic and influential periods as it expanded its global reach during the 1980s, highlighting both emerging talents and established artists who defined the era.’

Stark, moody, percussive amapiano.

Utterly infectious, bubbling, spare, playful house music from Ghana, steeped in neo-traditional idioms like gome and kpanlogo, as much as vintage Chicago acid and UK rave, highlife and hiplife, soca and dancehall. (As well as Accra pop radio stars like Crystal Waters, Inner Life and Rick Astley.) Over bass-heavy, percussive rhythms, Trotro sings, chants and raps in Twi and Ga, often like no one is listening. It’s impossible not to answer back.
Terrific, refreshing stuff.

An invigorating sampling of the prodigious output of this joint in Matariya, Cairo. Mahragan, or electro-shaabi, stripped down Sardena-style: auto-tuned, maxed-out vocals, thumping beats, synths, wild effects.

Astounding, deeply exploratory, previously unreleased work by the legendary Brazilian percussionist and composer.
A wild and unsettling collage, implacably original and startlingly intense — from the electroacoustic opener, which channels ancestral African inspirations into cosmogony, through the proto-mixtape Exemplo de Sintetizadores, which transitions from transcendental drones to astral cha-cha-chas, to a musical consideration of dripping water, in Suite Contagotas.
Djalma is best known for his studio work on benchmark albums, including numerous classics by Caetano Veloso, Gilberto Gil, and Jorge Ben, and for his own polyrhythmic opus Baiafro; and the finale here was first performed at the 1964 Nós, Por Exemplo concert, an event often cited as the inauguration of the Tropicalia movement. Djalma brings the electronics — medical oscillators, for example — to beef up his percussion. It’s eye-opening.
Corrêa called it ‘spontaneous music’; sonic adventures ranging audaciously across an array of genres, from jazz to deep funk to complete abstraction, all imbued with his signature DIY ethic.
Drawn from the original master-tapes, guided by Corrêa himself, just prior to his death.
Intriguing, immersive music. Dazzling, engrossing artwork, too.

Another round of forlorn songs about lost loves and other sorrows, driven by mid-tempo, wah wah guitars; this second volume tracking the Rai master into the 1990s.