Rrrrufff and gruff EP by the In Paradisum old boy. Better humoured, nervier and more reined-in for his long break. Ace.

‘Just over half an hour of Luke Wyatt nattering — talking over, against, and to himself — interspersed with slyly deployed SFX, and quotes from his own musical recordings. A wild, uncannily cohesive, funny-sad excursion, issuing from a childhood memory, and somehow taking in the ’86 Mets, WIlliam Rehnquist, and Boy Scout regalia, amongst much else, in a hilarious, poignant affirmation of the spiritual prequisite of self-expression.’

Massive bounce to the ounce on the A-side, guaranteed to boing a dancefloor into a vibrational mess.
Four honed earhole sluicers, on the flip.

Bumpin’ citizen JFM knocks back some bleep before trumping his FXHEs with two sides of rough, get-loose house like we like it. Warmly recommended.

Bracing portions of the screaming abdabs dressed as naked, hooligan machine-funk — fizzing, stomping, juddering and going mental in the furnace of high noon like whizzed-up children of the hydra’s teeth.

Throughout the 1980s and 1990s, Diop was celebrated in Senegal for her taasu, a form of oral poetry spoken call-and-response by griot women to the rhythmic accompaniment of sabar and tama drums. Then, in 1994, she dropped this incendiary combination of taasu and her own stripped, super-charged conception of mbalax…

Mid-nineties kwaito by Thami Mdluli (veteran of chart-toppers Taboo and CJB, and in-demand producer of the likes of Sox and Sensations).
Tasty, infectious rhythms and synth-work — if the singing is a bit Black Box — with an up-for-it, DIY energy and self-identity encouraged by the momentum of the liberation struggle in this period. “Once Mandela was released from prison and people felt more free to express themselves and move around town, kwaito was becoming the thing,” says Thami.

It’s a one-man-band evocation of the traditional accordion sound of his youth, adding a Moog, Rhodes and beat box. Light and fleet-footed, but questing and utterly heartfelt.
Switched-on Ethiopiques, refreshing and lovely as anything. No doubt insufficiently solemn and inauthentically-authentic for World Music plod, but hotly recommended by us.

Taking a break from cabbing duties back home in Washington DC, for his first LP in fifteen years. Ethiopian standards and originals; his unmistakable melodica, accordion and keys, in the same double-bass-and-drums setting as recent live shows.

A bonkers, irrepressible amalgam of highlife, Twi rap, funk and disco, put over with the passion of a Prince record and the lo-fi charm of early Chicago house music.
The original cassette — self-released in Ghana and Canada in 1994 — was the inaugural post on the ATFA blog.

This started out a couple of years ago as a grounation drumming session above the old headquarters of the Mystic Revelation Of Rastafari, in Wareika Hill, Kingston, JA. Four funde, a repeta and a bass drum. Back in London, contributing flute and guitar, Kenrick Diggory unbottled the deep rootical psychedelia and sheer awe of Hunting — the Keith-Hudson-versus-Count-Ossie wonder of the world — and Tapes added electronics, a shot of Drum Song… and a giddily intense binghi dub.

‘Recorded across East London, South-East Kent and Snaresbrook Crown Court during what is described as “the UK media’s attempt at divining integrity from the orchestrated turbulence of Brexit”, with the record setting out to “juggle the documentation of this particular moment with the desire to discern motivation from despair”. World In Action takes in field recordings, woodwind freakouts and percussion from Valentina Magaletti amongst other elements’ (The Quietus).

D.K. and Low Jack.

‘SK Kakraba is a master of the gyil xylophone — fourteen wooden slats strung across calabash resonators. The silk walls of spiders’ egg sacs — ‘paapieye’ in the Lobi language — are stretched across holes in the gourds, giving each note a buzzy rattle. SK learned as a child from elders in his Lobi community in the far northwest reaches of Ghana.’
Beautiful, spare, mesmeric recordings — song cycles, dirges, improvisations based on traditional songs, original compositions — newly made.

Utterly infectious, bubbling, spare, playful house music from Ghana, steeped in neo-traditional idioms like gome and kpanlogo, as much as vintage Chicago acid and UK rave, highlife and hiplife, soca and dancehall. (As well as Accra pop radio stars like Crystal Waters, Inner Life and Rick Astley.) Over bass-heavy, percussive rhythms, Trotro sings, chants and raps in Twi and Ga, often like no one is listening. It’s impossible not to answer back.
Terrific, refreshing stuff.