‘In August of 1961, the John Coltrane Quintet played an engagement at the legendary Village Gate in Greenwich Village, New York. Coltrane’s Classic Quartet was not as fully established as it would soon become and there was a meteoric fifth member of Coltrane’s group those nights — visionary multi-instrumentalist Eric Dolphy. Ninety minutes of never-before-heard music from this group were recently discovered at the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts, offering a glimpse into a powerful musical partnership that ended much too soon. In addition to some well-known Coltrane material (My Favorite Things, Impressions, Greensleeves), there is a breathtaking feature for Dolphy’s bass clarinet on When Lights Are Low, and the only known non-studio recording of Coltrane’s composition Africa, from the Africa/Brass album. This recording represents a very special moment in John Coltrane’s journey — the summer of 1961 — when his signature, ecstatic live sound, commonly associated his Classic Quartet of ‘62 to ‘65, was first maturing. He was drawing inspiration from deep, African sources, and experimenting with doubled-up basses both in the studio (Ole) and on stage. This truly rare recording of Africa captures his expansive vision at the time.’

Both sides are knockout.
The Willacy is terrific roots, rough and mystical, compacted and bristling, with fine trumpet.
On the flip is Big Youth’s toast of Gregory’s Look Before You Leap.

With Joshua Abrams, Hamid Drake, Jonathan Doyle, and Josh Berman.

‘At the beginning of 2017, Chicago vibraphonist Jason Adasiewicz brought a quintet into the hallowed halls of Electrical Audio, Steve Albini’s legendary studio, to record the soundtrack for a new film, Roy’s World: Barry Gifford’s Chicago, a documentary by Rob Christopher based on the Roy’s World series of short stories by Barry Gifford.
‘It’s really an ensemble effort, the spotlight on the gorgeous compositions and spacious sensibility, a perfect complement to Christopher’s fascinating, beautiful film, which has a noir vibe set in a fifties version of the Windy City conjured by means of vintage found footage, narration by Willam Dafoe, Matt Dillon, and Lilli Taylor, and Adasiewicz’s score. Check the balafon-led groove of Blue People, nodding to Fela… and bluesy, swinging charts throughout, with elements that might recall the post-hard-bop Blue Note records of folks like Andrew Hill, Sam Rivers, and Grachan Moncur III, Roy’s World is more than a great soundtrack record, it’s a killer programme of new tunes played by a monstrously strong band recorded and mixed at one of the world’s finest studios.’

‘Alto saxophonist Luther Thomas was the loose cannon of the Black Artists Group milieu, with a raw freedom and keening, braying, gut-bucket blatancy funkily attuned to the no-wave crew. Besides recordings with Charles Bobo Shaw and Jef Gilson, he was a regular with James Chance and Defunkt, among others. (His collaborator here, the flutist Luther Petty was hot, too, for a brief moment in these years, playing with Lester Bowie’s Sho Nuff Orchestra.)
‘Recorded in 1978, soon after the pair moved from St Louis to NY, this is an emotional, volatile set of blues-drenched duets. The openness of mid-western AACM-style space-play, replete with little instruments, chasmically underpins evocations of the ferocity and unforgivingness of the Big Apple and its competitive loft scene.’

Funky Donkey is brawling, invigorating, all-in, full-throttle fire music by the Human Arts Ensemble, recorded live in the Berea Presbyterian Church in St. Louis, in 1973, with Lester Bowie and co giving it some hoof. Charles Bobo Shaw’s composition Una New York is more spaced-out, limber, melodious, and funky. Guitarist Marvin Horne plays a blinder.
A key Black Arts Group recording.

Startling 1975 excursions into Tarantism — a kind of hysteria ostensibly triggered by spider bites, for which dancing is the only cure, with its own set of cultural traditions based in Basilicata, Apulia, Sicily.
Obsessive, hypnotic chants, rhythms, and drones, mixing together folk, avant-gardism, and psych, with shots of Dylan and North African drumming.

Originally released by the Folkstudio label in 1976, this is infectiously exuberant, eighteen-piece spiritual jazz in the tradition of the Arkestra, the Organic Music Society, and Mingus; strung between the post-war big bands and the Italian outernationalism of projects like Aktuala and Futuro Antico, drawing in music from Asia, Africa, and Latin America.

A terrific, fresh techno EP by Robin Stewart. Minimalist and dubwise, but fizzing with physical energy, and loaded with thrills and spills, like fairground ghost trains clanking and rattling through Rome, at a clip.
Check it out!

‘Regrows dub techno from the seeds,’ says Boomkat, ‘with a set of twisted warehouse melters that apply advanced dub logic to pointillistic technoid rhythms.
‘The off-grid, lolloping kicks are interesting enough on their own, but it’s how Stewart treats them that makes opener Stomach pop, sinking them in swirling, lysergic goop rather than drowning them out with rinsed tape FX. The oscillating, demonic subs that heave just beneath the surface don’t muddy things completely, they crack the sunroof on the top end, letting the industrialized foley clanks and hoarse vocaloid stutters boot us towards an unexpected destination. And although Compact is more trad on the surface — a gated peak-time roller, natch — Stewart’s canny processing makes the kicks tickle more than they thump. Everything builds up to the title track, where Stewart freezes mind-rinsing dissociated echo spirals into their own rhythmic forms that push against the relentless double-time thuds, weaving phantom polyrhythms out of thin air while spectral voices whisper overhead.’

‘Ghost musick… operating in the margins and intersections of folklore, experimental electronics, dreams and nightmares… Think of it as a rampant yearning, a manic laughter, but mostly as a feeling of some somnambulistic thirst for adventure and journeys into the unknown, a feeling that is grounded deep inside the heart of the continent.’

‘Shines a light on a little-heard, spooked German underground, working below the radar on mostly small-run releases. Lower Franconia’s Baldruin lays the mystery on thick, his fevered tracks here using flutes, electric organs and shaken children’s toys to create an opaque ambience. Close neighbours Brannten Schnüre voyage into similarly uncharted territory, providing laceworks of fragile folk melodies and sloshes of breathy drone offset by detached vocals. Like Brothers Grimm armed with analogue synths, Freundliche Kreisel supply the title track’s sinister fairy tale, while the oblique textures of Kirschstein’s mystically-themed efforts betray roots in Amon Düül’s hallucinogenic psychedelia and Novy Svet’s neo surrealism. A very dark delight’ (Mojo).

Paradigmatic yet forward-looking township jazz from 1975.
Braiding Wes Montgomery into marabi, the legendary guitarist leads a stellar line-up of musicians including Kippie Moeketsi, Barney Rachabane, Gilbert Matthews, Dennis Mpale, and Sipho Gumede.
The opener glances sideways at the commercial success of Abdullah Ibrahim’s recent Mannenberg — but the real magic follows on, when the players cut loose in their own, new directions.
This is the first vinyl reissue. Sleevenotes by Kwanele Sosibo feature interviews with key musicians, and previously unpublished photos.

Encouraged by the Art Ensemble of Chicago, the trumpeter Baikida Carroll upped sticks in 1972, moving from Missouri to Paris. He travelled with several colleagues from the Black Artists Group: saxophonist/flutist Oliver Lake, trombonist Joseph Bowie, drummer Charles ‘Bobo’ Shaw, and trumpeter Floyd LeFlore. Inevitably, they soon crossed paths with Jef Gilson, who invited Carroll to record for his young Palm label, in June 1974. Carroll brought along Lake, and the Franco-Chilean pianist Manuel Villaroel, from the group Matchi-Oul, which had already appeared on Futura in 1971. The lineup was completed by the great Brazilian percussionist Naná Vasconcelos, fresh from the triumph of his own debut LP as leader — the terrific Africadeus, for Saravah.
The first side is knockout: everybody plays a range of percussion and bells on the opener — its own iteration of space jungle love — embedding stately interventions by woodwind and brass; before the wildly funky free-jazz of Forest Scorpio, with raging saxophone and keyboard, and monster groove. The second half is thrillingly hybrid and one-of-a-kind: more reflective, intimate, and spaced-out — increasingly hallucinatory — with an improvisatory feel for dissonance and repetition which beckons Terry Riley and György Ligeti into the mix.
The original Palm artwork is scrupulously reproduced, and an eight-page booklet contains rare and previously unpublished photos. The more expensive LP is from an edition of just 175 copies, with see-through vinyl, and a silk-screened wraparound sleeve, numbered and signed by the artist Stefan Thanneur.
Hotly recommended.