Big Hands re-united with trumpeter Abraham Parker.
Trialled triumphantly in recent live shows, the opener comes good on the promise of the duo’s triumphant debut for Trule: gliding, hypnotic, and moody, with rueful, burnished brass interjections riding dubwise steppers.
Then a pair of distressed, halftempo d&b rhythms: a call to arms, and a troubled circling of the wagons. Waltz For Matis winds up proceedings with a deep, spooked Fourth World excursion, with skittering marimba.
Another ace EP.

A terrific compilation of vintage UK street soul — at its nexus with rare groove and lovers rock, so intensely nostalgic for us at HJ — by the same crew which put together the excellent For The Love Of You volumes.
A dozen gems here: treasurable DIY labels and whites teeming with raw longing and overproof sincerity, riding limber Soul II Soul-style grooves, wannabe Jam & Lewis, and crunchy, synthy, electro-soul. (The System were the US overmasters of this.)
Just a touch of cheese, a smidgen of sublimely out-of-tune singing, splashes of sploshy beatbox and dodge sampling, a brazen Roy Ayers pinch… components of loveliness.
Calling all midnight ravers and undercover lovers. You know who you are.

‘Minimalism is usually cool, detached, frictionless and mathematical. The music made by percussionist Bex Burch is not any of these things. What she calls ‘messy minimalism’ shares some characteristics with the music of Steve Reich and John Adams, but this is minimalism that isn’t afraid to break into a sweat and get its hands dirty (quite literally, given that Burch actually builds her own instruments from scratch). She mainly plays a gyil, a marimba-like tuned percussion instrument she learned while studying music in Ghana.
‘Burch’s first solo album lands her in Chicago, enlisting trumpeter Ben LaMar Gay and members of Tortoise. Sometimes, the results sound like an earthier Philip Glass: Dawn Blessings pairs her dreamlike, two-note gyil pattern with violinist Macie Stewart’s beautiful harmonies; Don’t Go Back to Sleep sees Burch’s gyil fractionally out of phase with a synthesiser, then spins into hypnotic but disorientating minimal techno.
‘Other tracks get wilder. There are drum circles, water drums and birdsong; tracks that exploit the acoustics of a California canyon. Pardieu turns a three-note xylophone riff into a compelling funk groove; Fruit Smoothie With Peanut Butter is a wonderfully chaotic drum circle that sounds melodic despite not featuring any tuned instruments. Best of all is You Thought You Were Free?, which layers clattering percussion over the wailing siren of a tornado warning relayed over Chicago until it sounds like a freakish fusion of the Master Musicians of Joujouka and Fela Kuti’ (The Guardian).

Fiery, head-banging deep funk by this Louisiana guitarist; originally out on Eddie ‘Goldband’ Shuler’s ANLA label, in 1967.

This Detroiter recorded three songs for Dave Hamilton, all of them funk classics.
Originally issued in 1971 on the trim New Day label, I Got Some is the most down and dirty of the trio.
Sampled by Gang Starr.

The word from Mississippi…
‘Relentless polyrhythms, call and response vocal poetry, melodic and layered horns, flute, and even accordion!!! A huge and rich sonic landscape, propulsive, energetic, and deeply soulful.
‘Every neighborhood in Dakar has its own Assiko band. They’re community groups, open to anyone who wants to join, as opposed to the legendary griot culture that only allows select families to take part.
‘These hyper-democratic bands can kick off a thousand-person street party at any moment. But they also operate as mutual aid groups, neighborhood security, impromptu after-school programs, and repositories of local music and lore.
The Assiko Band of Grand Yoff neighborhood is led by Djiby Ly (Wau Wau Collectif), who takes his role in the community seriously. He’s led iterations of the band for over a decade, and describes in detail each rhythm they play, its roots, travels, and contours. This Assiko band is particularly prolific and popular, and these recordings remind me of a good rock band - loose and rangy, you can hear the humor and warmth amongst the bandmates come through.’

‘This thirteen-track compilation exhumes forgotten brilliance from the Afroamerican underground of the 1970s. Awash in fuzzed-out guitars, wah-wah pedals, lysergic-soaked grooves, and enough inflation depression to fill the tank of a shag wagon, If There’s Hell Below imagines a world where Hendrix lived on and Funkadelic never crawled out of the garage.’
Transparent red vinyl.

‘Maxx Traxx (and Third Rail before them) were a scene unto themselves in early 80s Chicago, happening live on-stage five-plus nights a week. Their two LPs, both recorded in 1982, are like catching a bullet train, a sheer energy ride almost too explosive to be captured by studio tape. Hop the turnstile and move with this complete document of Chicago’s last great club band told in detailed text, newly revealed photos, and complete studio recordings painstakingly remastered.’

‘Rare groove Windy City disco at its finest.’

‘Recorded at home in 2012, early acoustic guitar improv performances from the Bhutanese expat, who’d come to Asheville, NC to study in 2000 and discovered worlds of anarcho-punk and avant garde such as he’d only dreamed. Having made recordings of his newly-located improvisational conception, he intuited a desire to go deeper in his explorations of the recorded sound of the guitar, melding and colliding traditional music with his feeling for the range of textures within.’

‘Dave Cudlip’s debut album, inaugurating the highly promising, experimental label Klang Tone (spawn of the estimable Stroud record shop): a stunning and unique combination of ethereal ambient soundscapes, undulating rhythms, and atonal sound collage, with Harmonia and Autechre looming amongst its forebears.’