Blissful boogie-down soul by the Fatback Band alumnus, produced by Greg Carmichael and Patrick Adams; originally released in 1978. With the almighty It Ain’t No Big Thing.

Too experimental for their label International Artists, back in 1967.

A recording at the Maison de la Radio in May 1973; broadcast on France Culture later that year, but never released till now. Songs from their various early-seventies albums, but stripped right back, highlighting Fontaine’s inventive and provocative poetry, with only their own accompaniment of guitar, percussion, and accordion.

The former Flair and Leiber and Stoller go-to is a rock ‘n’ roll hero. A charged, witty, extrovert guide to its glory days — from doo wop through blues, rhythm and blues, rock and roll… into soul. Terrific stuff.

Hard bop from 1961: a quintet including Marcus ‘Gemini’ Belgrave, Ronnie ‘Doin The Thang’ Mathews, and Gene Hunt, from Horace Silver’s band.

Charged garage-rock from Vancouver, BC, Canada, 1970. Championed by the innumerate Enjoy The Experience: ‘Amongst my favorites, the sincerity and verve in the performances remain fresh to the ear and heart thirty years later.’

‘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).

Fragile, dignified performances by two of Cajun music’s finest and most unusual artists, originally released on 78 in the late 1920s. French vocals accompanied by guitar or fiddle, or sometimes both. Impeccable ballads and breakdowns. Old school tip-on cover.