‘Dissonant, ghostly, and otherworldly, summoning complex emotions with sparse tools…
‘The songs are nested in tape hiss and arranged with vocal harmonies she layers like falling snowflakes and drones that fill up the crevices of your lungs. It has the tactile intimacy of 1970s folk musicians like Vashti Bunyan and Karen Dalton, music that feels tied to the natural world it dreams of…
‘This out-of-time music comes to us when the natural world is deteriorating and the ever-present internet is a tool of mass surveillance and a lens to witness multiple global atrocities at once. In her endeavor to exalt such a bleak world, Zuniga seems to be battling herself. She acknowledges that “memory always sees the loved one smaller” and then also shares “why I remember,” citing “white ripe strawberry bruise / beats in the heart” as her reason. She lays bare her pain but ends the record with a wordless composition of stormy static and crystalline piano notes titled To Live Happily. Zuniga allows these disparate perspectives to coexist without overexplaining. A star can be shining now and gone tomorrow, a memory beautiful and still insufficient. Her comfort with dissonance creates a sense of expansiveness and richness to songs that often only feature a handful of instruments at a time’ (Pitchfork).

Something special. Very warmly recommended if psych-folk from the same amphora as Joanne Robertson is your poison.

Spike Lee’s dad Bill leading three other family members and percussionists Sonny Brown and Billy Higgins, in 1973. Stone classic spiritual jazz, majestic but intimate, with touches of gospel, soul and classical music. Invoking ancestors in slavery; protesting Attica; celebrating Weldon Irvine. An unmissable version of Bill Lee’s composition Coltrane (the jewel in the crown of Clifford Jordan’s mighty Glass Bead Games, the same year).

Pressed on 180-gram vinyl at RTI, mastered by Kevin Gray (Cohearant Audio), with audio cut directly from the original analogue tapes; featuring previously unpublished photos with new liner notes in a glossy tip-on gatefold.

Twin detournements of Lieber & Stoller.
Hugh Godfrey coolly channels Love Potion No. 9 into a rude boy anthem, with tasty riding-east piano and full-steam-ahead saxophone.
On the flip, Norma Fraser switches the roles of the Big Mama Thornton classic. An erstwhile dawg is played by the singer. The raucous, sexually dismissive wordplay of the original — ‘You can wag your tail / But I ain’t gonna feed you no more’ — is replaced by dignified verses about female independence and resilience.
Killer 45.

Soulful, lo-fi, Casiotone renditions of Amharic folk songs and lullabies, Tigrinya love songs, Gurage and Oromifa popular songs, and hits like Tilahun Gessesse’s Tiz Alegne Yetintu.
A landmark recording from Ethiopia’s vibrant 1980s cassette culture.

”Instrumental music, for me, is a space of reflection. Without words, the listener is invited to remember, imagine, and feel freely. In Resonance of Time, I hear my own musical philosophy: respect for Ethiopian kignit, careful dialogue with Western harmony, and a deep trust in melody as a storyteller.”

‘Among the most influential European ensembles of the 21st century, this chamber group’s work on ECM and Hubro has redefined the boundaries between jazz, contemporary composition and folk music, developing a highly distinctive language built on restraint, timbral nuance and collective interplay…
‘Over time, the Ensemble has developed a language that is immediately recognizable — marked by reduction, clarity and a deep attention to sonic detail. While each release has its own character, the underlying aesthetic remains consistent: a focus on the inner life of sound itself. Rather than foregrounding gesture or virtuosity, the music draws the listener toward the smallest elements, where meaning emerges gradually through texture, spacing and timbre. The listening experience becomes one of concentration and proximity, where each sound carries weight, and the accumulation of detail forms a larger whole. References may be sensed — to early polyphonic music, Norwegian folk traditions, or more recent experimental practices — but these are absorbed into a singular musical language that resists categorization.
‘Non Sonett advances the group’s integration of electronics as a fundamental part of the sound world. Each musician engages with electronic elements alongside their acoustic instruments, creating a layered and dynamic sonic environment. At times, this leads into extended, exploratory passages reminiscent of analogue musique concrète; at others, electronics operate almost imperceptibly, subtly altering and extending the acoustic textures in real time.’

‘Luminous meshes of colours and textures, vaulting between free jazz, dub, raga, ambient, and ritual music. Riveting polyrhythms underpin towering arrangements for flutes, synths, and processed acoustic instruments. The drumming and psychoactive, ceremonial melodies evoke the fourth world of Don Cherry, Jon Hassell, Popol Vuh et al. An alchemical, Buddhist/Taoist/Hindu slant guides the narrative.’