The guitarist’s debut album, inspired by a road trip through Brazil, taking in a Sun City Girls show in a remote former gay club, and a visit to a spiritual healer. He leads upright bass, drums, vibraphone, saxophone and percussion.

‘I decided that I would try to forge, in my own way, from my references, from my universe and from the collective intelligence and sensibility that surrounded me, fundamental melodies, repetitive, minimal, hypnotic rhythmic and harmonic patterns that would be crossed by some sort of improvisation, something that referred to a reality that existed before my individual history, that linked to the life of other places and other times.’

‘unique and beguiling…evocative and profound… music of rare depth’ (The Wire).
‘taps into the common ground between meditative, ambient and trance musics… delightful’
(Chris May, All About Jazz).

A symphonic layering of phone-taps by Scanner and TT, aka DJ Sprinkles.
Plus some deep, glitchy Ambient by the label-boss, with piano and harpsichord.

Originally released by Kuckuck in 1973, Princess Of Dawn ranges library-style from ceremonial, meditative mantra drones (Triad, Deep Sea, Gothic Velvet, Evening), through sun-worship (Tom Bombaddils Dance), to playful, pulsating forays in analog synth (Desert Rock, Synth Effect, Flea Dance, Laser), by way of the traditional music of the Middle East, India and Europe (Arabia, Reed, Phoenix).
Twenty-six fragments of electronica by the Krautrock mystic, like stepping stones between the phase of music-making which culminated in Aum the previous year, and his imminent departure for Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh’s ashram in Poona, home to key-works like Celebration, Haleakala, Ecstasy and Silence Is The Answer.

The Estonian pianist Kristjan Randalu — ‘dazzling’, says Herbie — alongside US guitarist Ben Monder and Finnish drummer Markku Ounaskari for his ECM debut, combining a jazzy lyricism with a classical sense of form.

The post bop masters with pianist Lawrence Fields, bassist Linda May Han Oh, and drummer Joey Baron. Two Shorter classics — Fee Fi Fo Fum and Juju — in amongst their originals.

The Upsetter’s imperious do-over of the almighty Skylarking rhythm, featuring himself alongside Winston Blake at the microphone, berating people for having fun in public. (‘Sylvester the jesterer from Manchester’, you know who you are.)
Contrastingly backed with Jimmy Riley in a sombre mood, c&w soul style, over a bare-bones reworking of the People Funny Boy rhythm.
Unmissable, obviously.

Captivatingly decentred, ghostly dubscapes, unhurriedly rolling out elements of jazz, reggae and — yep — Estonian folk music, with suspenseful toms, groovy double bass and punky-reggae guitar, and some lovely xylophone and accordion playing. Have a listen.