“We started with a cosmic idea that we were taught from a very young age – that the stars and planets make a sound, that deep in outer space there is audible harmony.”
Book Of Sound is the brilliant, richly resonant exploration of these interstellar low ways. By turns urgent and contemplative, funky and reflective; varied in its textures, but entirely of one piece. Underpinned by cosmology, held in place by meditation, swirling with notions of history, science, theology, ancestry — this is a heady conceptual brew. But the music speaks loudest: ‘the sound of surprise’, magnificently retrieving Spiritual Jazz from the knacker’s yard.
It’s a deeply Chicagoan record. “It’s got the vibe of the lake,’ continues trombonist Cid, “the vibe of the prairies opening up to the west.” Also the Sun Ra albums recorded there in the 1950s, and — of course, being the dad of all seven ensemblists — Phil Cohran’s wonderful albums from the 1960s.
“You know, it’s tough trying to satisfy everybody with our music. It’s hard enough satisfying ourselves, let alone the jazz scene, the hip hop guys, what have you. With this album we just dropped all that as a consideration, and tuned into deeper principles.”

Recorded in 1971, Solo Guitar Volume 1 was Bailey’s first solo album. Its cover is an iconic montage of photos taken in the guitar shop where he worked. He and the photographer piled up the instruments whilst the proprietor was at lunch, with Bailey promptly sacked on his return.
The LP was issued in two versions over the years — Incus 2 and 2R — with different groupings of free improvisations paired with Bailey’s performances of notated pieces by his friends Misha Mengelberg, Gavin Bryars and Willem Breuker.
All this music is here, plus a superb solo performance at York University in 1972; a welcome shock at the end of an evening of notated music. It’s a striking demonstration of the way Bailey rewrote the language of the guitar with endless inventiveness, intelligence and wit.

Recorded in 1974, at the Royal Hotel in Luton, with Braxton playing soprano and alto saxophones, and Bb and contrabass clarinets. Two volumes were planned; only one was issued, till now. This was an early transatlantic meeting between leading free improvisers. Many of Braxton’s signature techniques and ideas were gestated in such sessions. It still brims with inquisitive musical creativity and knockabout jazzbo allusiveness.

The tussling vegetables in Mal Dean’s cover-sketch somehow befit perfectly this extraordinary duo of Bailey and the great Dutch drummer Han Bennink. Recorded in London in 1972, Incus 9 was their second record (after an ICP in 1969), becoming a blueprint and inspiration for generations of free-improvisers. It is paired here with a brilliant session from the following year, with the same power and friendly combativeness, and oodles of creativity, technique and humour. It’s obvious how much they loved playing together.

Almost preposterous, this beautiful snapshot of a US expat community fetched up in Dimona, Israel, in the second half of the seventies, holding faith with its love of Chicago soul and spiritual jazz.

An insurgent blend of rock, rumba, soul and traditional grooves.
Including never-before-released recordings by legends like Thomas Mapfumo and Oliver
Mtukudzi, amongst many others.

Consummate jazz-funk and two-step soul from their time with Wayne Henderson’s At Home, in 1975-76. Stone classic vocal takes on Ronnie Laws’ Always There and the Crusaders’ Keep That Same Old Feeling, through sublime mid-tempo harmonising like She’s A Lady, to jiggy jiggy murder like S.O.S. (which with sth assistance of gospel diva Helen Baylor trumps even Esther Phillips’ ace version).

‘The twentieth volume of our flagship series has all the boxes checked: gun-toting record producers, child stars, rip-offs, ‘The World’s Greatest Bail Bondsman’, soaring falsettos, and a dwindling rust-belt cityscape offering mere glimpses of hope before the record industry escaped for the coasts. Helmed by the O’Jays Bobby Massey, Saru was a creative vortex pulling into Cleveland the best talent in Cuyahoga County — the Out of Sights, the Elements, Pandella Kelly, David Peoples, Sir Stanley, the Ponderosa Twins + 1, Ba-Roz, Bobby Dukes and — of course — The O’Jays.’

Some words from Dynamo Dreesen…

“Have you ever heard of the Eva EP by Web on Fat Cat Records? A few years ago it was my introduction to Web. I knew Fat Cat Records was interesting and diverse, they were known for releasing mainly experimental electronica and psychedelic folk music. The Eva EP by Web was Fat Cat’s start with their label mission from their record shop in central London in 1996. This EP has it all for me! A fusion of jazzy, bouncy, cosmic balearic, warped synth techno.
“Takuya Sugimoto aka Web while an art student in Osaka around 1993 began recording Detroit Techno, Chicago House, Electro and Electronica. He was helped by Ken Inaoka of Syzygy records, one of the first independent techno record labels in Japan, by releasing his first productions. Takuya then continued to release under several aliases, such as COLOGNe, Dja-zz, Gana, Ura Ura and Sammansa.
“While in Japan in 2019, on a 12 day Dresvn tour I was curious to know what had happened to Web. I asked Saito of Newtone Records in Osaka if he knew anything of him?
“Magically a month later Takuya sent me 16 unreleased tracks produced in 1994/95 stored on dat cassettes and forgotten about until now. Of those 16 tracks, eight became The Sound There.”

The classic set of Scientist / Jammy / Roots Radics dubs, originally out on Starlight Records in 1982, now matched with its vocal counterparts, including previously unreleased cuts by Hell & Fire, Sister Nancy and Papa Tullo. The vinyl comes with a two-feet-square colour poster of Tony McDermott’s cover art.

‘Eighteen dedications, each hybrid and different, but driven by an utterly personal approach to bebop, Brazilian jazz, Africa and Brazilian roots; thronged with his signature battery of whistles, screams, scales, keyboard, kettles, spoons, squeeze toys, children’s voices, prepared piano and geese calls; with the band adding native instruments like pandeiro, surdo, caixa, apitos, bonecos and agogos, besides saxophones, flute, electric piano, electric bass and so on. Musicians and genres such as Terry Riley, Frank Zappa and Weather Report, Javanese gamelan and Indonesian kulintang come to mind, but there is no real overlap: Pascoal has his own special brew.’
His first recording with his band in fifteen years. “My music is not commercial; it’s not like selling bananas or soap. I’m not in a hurry to record.”

At last, the vinyl reissue of this masterwork, adding two hitherto unreleased gems recorded solo for Charles Fox’s Radio 3 programme Jazz in Britain, in the same few months of 1980 as the stunning Aida performances.
The phrase ‘in the moment’ is often bandied about with reference to free improvisation, and indeed there’s no better way to describe Derek Bailey’s playing. The acoustic guitar is notoriously lacking in natural reverberation — notes barely hang in the air for a couple of seconds before they disappear — which explains the almost non-stop flow of new material in these stellar performances.  Bailey knew from one split-second to the next exactly where to find the same pitch on different strings, either as a stopped tone or a ringing harmonic, and there’s never a note out of place. ‘He who kisses the joy as it flies,’ in the words of William Blake, ‘Lives in eternity’s sunrise’ — and this music is forever in the moment, constantly active but never gabby, kissing the joy.
One of the special pleasures of the BBC set is the guitarist’s own laconic commentary, a deliciously deadpan description of what he’s doing while he’s doing it — “I like to think of it… as a kind of music” — and the interaction between words and music is a particular delight. “You may have noticed a certain lack of variety,” he quips, while unleashing a furiously complex volley. Is it a coincidence that the final seconds recall the famous cycling fifths of the coda to Thelonious Monk’s Round Midnight? Surely not — for Bailey, like Monk, was a note man par excellence. And they’re both still alive and well in eternity’s sunrise.