‘If you love the era in which electronic elements began to enter contemporary jazz, during the late ‘60s and ‘70s, you’ll LOVE what Sweden’s Dennis Egberth has been creating.
‘A blend of cosmic composition and chilled ambient and electronic sounds, with floating, irresistible, melodic bass lines, and long, modal build-ups that come alive with exploding lyricism.
‘The drummer is joined by Fredrik Ljungkvist on tenor sax and clarinet, Niklas Barnö on trumpet, Alexander Zethson on Wurlitzer, Linus Hillborg on electronics, and double bassist Joe Williamson.’

Fifteen sides produced by Carl ‘Stereo’ Fletcher for his Uprising and Stereo Beat labels. Quality, mellow, seventies roots, in vocals, toasts and instrumentals. Five previously unreleased recordings in amongst hard-to-finds, and classics like Little Roy’s Christopher Columbus.

‘In 1978, SA guitar genius Tabane stood at a crossroads. Fresh from three years’ touring in the United States, where he graced the Newport Jazz Festival alongside Miles, Herbie, Pharoah and co, and with a newly signed international distribution deal, he harnessed this momentum to a new, larger band setting, capturing a rare intensity.
‘Sangoma — ‘spiritual healer — bridges contradictions: expansive yet intimate, celebratory yet haunted by exile and return. Tracks like Sangoma, Hi Congo and Keya Bereka are not simply recordings but living testaments, songs that would remain in Tabane’s repertoire for decades. Unlike the moody, immersive character of much of his work, here Tabane is on the move — urgent, restless, uncontainable. ‘Maskanta wa tsamaya’, ‘ass-kicking’.
‘More than four decades on, Sangoma is both an historical document and a timeless invocation. A landmark in SA musical history. From his home in Mamelodi to the world and back again, Tabane’s spiritual healing endures — raw, electric, and unbowed.’

Enjoyably odd, wrong folk rock with baroque touches, from 1968. Jarrett plays everything — guitar, harmonica, soprano saxophone, recorder, piano, organ, electric bass, drums, tambourine and sistra — adding a string quartet here and there. He also sings, though it’s better when he doesn’t. Nearly all the tracks are two to three minutes.

Spinning off from Horace Tapscott’s Panafrikan People’s Orchestra, here is the Long Beach drummer with Dadisi Komolafe, Rickey Kelly and co, in 1983.
An extended reading of Bobby Hutcherson’s Little Bee’s Poem; two from Trane, Moment’s Notice and Mr PC; Wayne Shorter’s Armageddon; Joe Henderson’s Recordame.
Originally pressed in tiny numbers by Adams himself; the sole release on his Hip City imprint.

‘I want to play songs like I used to sing when I was real small.’

This fiftieth anniversary CD includes as a bonus the track briefly substituted for Spirits on an early vinyl edition. It is the same tune known as Vibrations on the album of that title on Arista/Freedom (aka Ghosts when issued on Debut) and as ‘[tune Q]2’ on the Revenant box set Holy Ghost.

Commissioned in 1964 for a film soundtrack — though only half the music was used — this is the classic quartet in gorgeous, relaxed, contemplative, from-the-heart re-visitings of Naima, Village Blues, Like Sonny and Traneing In; plus a new composition, Blue World. Nothing eye-opening, but so what. Warmly recommended.

Previously unreleased music by the electroacoustic music pioneer, from 1973-1992.
Commercials, commissions and secrets.
Photophonie itself was made for a photographic exhibition by Alain Willaume. Il Etait Une Fois was commissioned by the GMEB; Trans-Voices by the American Center, Paris. Leica is by way of a jingle for the camera company.

Hard-rocking, rawly soulful gospel.
The highly-prized original LP was issued by Hoyt Sullivan on his HSE label out of South Carolina and then Nashville.
Nuff highlights but Hold Out is utterly devastating and unmissable (the band almost nodding out with tribulation).
Hotly recommended.

‘Triumphant experiments in privately-issued sci-fi soul music; lonely transmissions from a planet in a state of cultural fugue. Packaged in a one-way portal to the further limits of expression. Some assembly required.’

“360 degrees of freedom is overwhelming in music, and you need not truly begin to find freedom until you put yourself under extremely narrow constraints.”
‘Slepian’s work draws equally from the harmonic terrain he explored while performing with a Javanese gamelan ensemble, as well as time spent building and modifying electronic audio equipment for studios and fellow musicians. Gravitating towards improvisation and experimentation, he built a breathtaking sound-world that stretched the briefest of moments into an eternity of detail and depth.’
In 1980, Slepian consolidated his vision with a series of cassette albums. His ‘New Music For Digital Orchestra’ was actually performed by instruments, tools and recording techniques which are entirely analogue, and captured live with no overdubs.

‘One of the most provocative ongoing bodies of work by any American musician’ (Pitchfork). ‘Astonishing work of history, memory and sensed experience. Confirms Roberts’ place as one of the most important living artists in any field’ (The Quietus).
With Hannah Marcus (guitars, fiddle, accordion), percussionist Ryan Sawyer, bassist Nicolas Caloia, and Sam Shalabi on guitar and oud — plus trombonist Steve Swell and vibraphonist Ryan White guesting. ‘Memphis unspools as a continuous work of 21st century liberation music, oscillating between meditative incantatory explorations, raucous melodic themes, and unbridled free-improv suites, quoting archly and ecstatically from various folk traditions along the way.’

The first recording in twenty years by this path-breaking vocalist — introduced to ESP by Albert Ayler — is a 2018 concert with Burton Greene (from her 1966 debut) and bassist Mario Pavone and percussionist Barry Altschul, from the group of musicians around Paul Bley.
‘Dedicated to Cecil Taylor, who had passed away moments before she took the stage, Live preserves the mournful tension that was in the air that night. Side A comprises a set of desolate ballads, including Waters’ own classic Moon, Don’t Come Up Tonight. Fifty years after her unforgettable recording of Black Is The Color Of My True Love’s Hair — one of the 20th century’s most harrowing, deeply political expressions of madness and grief — the B-side is a stark reminder that the fight for civil rights is far from over. Beginning with Strange Fruit, the suite’s form-bending contortions also feature Waters’ take on Ornette’s Lonely Woman.’