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Hollie Cook, one of reggae’s most exciting voices, makes a return to the label that released her cherished debut album in 2011. Landing back on Mr Bongo, 'Night Night' is a stand-alone aperitif and taster of what to expect from the next era in Hollie's musical journey

Revisiting her roots, this latest single embraces the trademark reggae / tropical pop sound Hollie found fame with on her first two albums. With a career that has gone from strength to strength since those formative days, the buoyance, charisma, and confidence gained in those subsequent years are on show for all to see.

Recorded at Crosstown Studios in London with the General Roots band and produced, mixed and dubbed by Ben McKone, ‘Night Night’ documents the longing of a lonely lover. Grounded in a sound system rattling bass line, strutting guitars and shimmering keys provide a sunshine-infused contrast. Hollie’s smooth sultry tones radiate throughout, backed by the legendary Horseman on toasting duties - a collaboration that hasn’t been heard since Hollie’s first album. Trading verses, the warmth of Hollie's velvety vocals balances Horseman's raw explosive energy in an absorbing harmony.

In true reggae style, the 7" single is backed with a classic dub mix, adding spacey reverb and delays, whilst giving Hollie and Horseman a more spacious streamlined flow in the mix.

Love in the time of collectively assured techno-capitalist-nuclear holocaust! It’s the endless summer the Brits have been harping on about since they think they won the World Cup. The soundtrack is the debut album of the Content Provider; where Octatrack illbient and industrial chanson mesh in a singed postcard addressed to the UK Border Force and co-signed by aliens plucked from the petri dishes of Young Echo, Cold Light and Avon Terror Corps.
It’s a name she tried to keep anonymous, but Drowned By Locals and Bokeh Versions are breaking contract to reveal that the Content Provider is in fact the shock production alias of DALI DE SAINT PAUL. Patron saint of Bristol’s self-destructive improv idols EP/64 as well as post-feminist chamber collective Viridian Ensemble, avant-terror duo Harrga and constant collaborator with the likes of *breathe* Moor Mother, Valentina Magaletti, Mariam Rezaei, Vincent Moon, Maxwell Sterling, Ossia, Ben Vince.
And isn’t it such a strange release? And won’t people be surprised? Endless Summer is grubby and heartfelt, defiant and hopeful, with flecks of warped reggae on E-System nudging the freeform dream balladry of A Feeling and Sunday Morning, Kode9 & Spaceape-worthy dread poetry of Close Ur Eyes next to anthemic electro-crush of Overdrive. Even to those that know her well, and EVERYONE with their belly in the Bristol underground knows her, Endless Summer is a revelation. Perhaps the apex of the known Dali-verse……where her live gigs have boiled with an experimental volcanic vocal force, Endless Summer is twisted, syrupy, sultry, POP.

I’m Sad as Hell and I’m Not Going to Fake It Anymore is the best, sharpest, briefest, and fourth record from Paper Castles, the band fronted by Jericho, Vermont’s Paddy Reagan. In one way, it’s a simple and modest collection of nine fuzzy guitar-led pop songs. The title, a play on the iconic scene from Network (written by Paddy Chayefsky), can be clocked as nothing more than that at first glance, playful. But like the music behind it, Reagan thinks you can sit with the title if you want.

I'm Sad as Hell... was tracked by Benny Yurco (Michael Nau, Lily Seabird, Robber Robber) in a little over eight hours across two days, a testament to the quartet’s perfection of these songs on stage, and to Yurco’s comfortable Little Jamaica Recordings in Burlington.

Tompkins and Mangan lock into a wonderful foundation for Kitz’s lolling guitar lines on “Clean + Organized,” while on “Avalon,” the band sings harmony for the most ironic line in the waltz (“We don’t really want company”) before their instruments explode into technicolor. “Lying Here” showcases PC deftly navigating washed out verses and tight knit, twangy choruses, all in a tidy, under-three minute package.

Lyrically, Reagan is at his finest: playful and savage, biting and beautiful. Double entendres and clever wordplay abound—a line like “it's not the ideals but the high heels that’ll make you a man” from “Modern Myth” will make you wish John Prine was still around to hear it. On “Name Changer,” when Reagan sings “I’ll never change my name again / Got a real good handle and I don’t want to give it in,” what kind of “handle” is he referring to? I’d like to think Elvis Costello would smile at most lines in the Attractions rave-up “Content Creator.”

PRESSED ON BLUE SPLASH COLORED VINYL!

Executive Producers: Benny the Butcher & ElCamino

Benny the Butcher Presents: The Outcome, the new compilation from B$F and Buffalo-based producer ILL Tone Beats, is now available on vinyl. The project boasts star-studded features from artists such as Benny the Butcher, Conway the Machine, and Westside Gunn, who provide hard-hitting verses over Tone’s dynamic production. The album’s 14 tracks, produced entirely by ILL Tone, showcase the distinct sound of B$F that has drawn acclaim from critics and fans alike.

Joni Void, the artistic persona of Montréal-based French-British producer Jean Néant (he/them) returns to songcraft on their warmest and most welcoming record yet, where the acclaimed sampledelic sound collagist chills out with an emotionally resonant song cycle tinged by downtempo, lo-fi, avant-pop, and trip-hop. Guests include Haco, Ytamo, Sook-Yin Lee, Pink Navel and N NAO. Every Life Is A Light expands on Void's recent stylistic turn towards more languorous and mellow lo-fi production, foreshadowed by the drifting looseness and ambient bricolage of their preceding experimental sound-art record. This transitional sensibility now shapes more defined song structures and styles, with loops are given time and space to unspool, and rhythms shot through the softer-focus lens of trip-hop and dub. Every Life Is A Light swaps the twitchy insistence of Void's acclaimed early albums for a newfound lightness and suppleness, still imbued with all the restlessness, sonic detailing, and emotional resonance that made their name. The neurotic brokenmachine kinetics of earlier Void, summarized by Sasha Geffen as "drawing despair and wonder from within the vast unfeeling of digital communication" in an 8.0 Pitchfork review, may be chilling out, but Void is becoming an ever better conjurer of hauntological feeling. Every Life Is A Light summons this in a comparatively buoyant, benevolent, head-nodding journey more open to tenderness and modest joys. Perhaps it's the sound of Void at greater peace with themselves and the world, despite the bittersweet cost: even as it channels grief, memorializing comrades and companions recently deceased, this album wants light. Void's raw materials continue to draw heavily from samples (their own Walkman cassette fieldrecordings and songs by others) and from a wide community of musical guests. Vocalists Haco on "Time Zone" and Ytamo on "Cloud Level" help levitate what could be lost tracks from a mid-90s Too Pure Records compilation of skewed-lounge electronica. Canadian musician Sook-Yin Lee sings on lead single "Vertigo," a sinewy 80bpm tape-loop and bassline groove propelled by psychedelically-layered lyrics that eventually turn the song in on itself entirely, like Grace Jones' "Nightclubbing" covered by Animal Collective. One of Void's greatest hip-hop loves is the Ruby Yacht collective; charter member Pink Navel drops some brilliant verses on "Story Board." The album's two minimal tracks, an extended piano loop set to a slow beat and shimmering electronics on "Muffin-A Song For My Cat" and the languid sampled bass riff and breakbeat of "Event Flow," are perhaps most overtly `lofi chill.' Indeed the whole album could be said to sit adjacent to those viral (if not already AI-generated) genre trends, which maybe begs the question on a lot of our minds: can specificity and authenticity of musical materials still be heard, still meaningfully signify substance and difference, still matter? Perhaps a question that fades in comparison to the career break Void could catch by landing on generic streaming playlists. More likely, these tracks remain too off-kilter, too genuinely lo-fi and ineffable, and too disqualified by the status of its peasant rights-holders, to catch the algos. Context remains the poor cousin of content. Meanwhile Void marches on, as a tireless organizer of local music events, bouncing around and often living in DIY venue, depending on the latest apartment eviction. With an ubiquitous polaroid camera in tow, they also document each communal happening with a single shot (and often a blinding flash bulb): a memory and metaphor for lives illuminated preciously, singularly, `imperfectly' in the moment. Dozens of these polaroids adorn the album's back cover and inner sleeve art in grid-like montages, as a fitting analog for the careful construction, grainy intimate materiality, and ephemeral feeling of these songs. Every Life Is A Light is Joni Void's most coherent and congenial record while relinquishing none of their experimentalist acumen as a producer or emotional attunement as a composer. Instead these qualities flourish, on an album that lights a humble flame for the fragile promise of homespun creative collaboration as unalienated labour and therapeutic communion, making an enchantingly idiosyncratic contribution to downtempo sample music along the way. Thanks for listening.

LIMITED TO 500 HAND-NUMBERED COPIES!

After a prolific 2024 Benny The Butcher isn’t slowing down in 2025 and kicks off the new year with the release of Summertime Butch on vinyl. Originally released through Benny’s Black Soprano Family imprint in August 2024, the 10-track album features BSF artists ElCamino, Rick Hyde and Fuego Base plus Ed Lover.

Wie viele finnische Death-Metal-Pioniere zeichnet sich die Band durch einen ausgeprägten Sinn für Schrägheit aus, indem sie verschiedene Einflüsse zu einem unverwechselbaren Sound verschmilzt. "Das Rückgrat ist der Death Metal", sagt Sänger Kari Kankaanpää, "aber wir haben uns nie davor gescheut, neue Inspirationen und Einflüsse zu erforschen, die die einzigartige Note von Sepulchral Curse ausmachen. Musik muss dunkel, schwer und wütend sein!"

Crimson Moon Evocations markiert das Debüt der Band bei Dark Descent Records, eine Partnerschaft, die sich sowohl natürlich als auch von großer Bedeutung anfühlt: "Dark Descent Records hat immer einen besonderen Platz in meinem Herzen gehabt. Es ist eine große Ehre, mit dieser Platte zu ihrem renommierten Roster zu stoßen."

Diese neue Zusammenarbeit spiegelt die ungebrochene Dynamik von Sepulchral Curse wider und erscheint nur zwei Jahre nach ihrem kühnen Sprung nach vorne mit Abhorrent Dimensions. "Mit Abhorrent Dimensions haben wir wirklich begonnen, unseren eigenen Sound und Stil zu finden, und Crimson Moon Evocations taucht noch tiefer in das ein, was wir sind, und kristallisiert die Essenz des Sepulchral Curse-Sounds."

Um ihre Vision einzufangen, kehrte die Band in die finnischen Oxroad Studios zurück, um mit dem Produzenten Tomi Uusitupa zu arbeiten, dessen Einfluss entscheidend war. "Tomi ist wie unser sechstes Mitglied. Er wählt die Projekte, mit denen er arbeitet, sorgfältig aus, da er in jede Platte, die er macht, eine enorme Menge an Liebe und persönlichem Input einfließen lässt."

Das Album ist nicht nur ein Meilenstein, sondern auch ein Statement, das von Mark Erskine mit einem atemberaubenden Artwork versehen wurde: Sepulchral Curse ist zum Gipfel des Blackened Death Metal aufgestiegen!

Loyle Carner will release his highly anticipated sophomore record, 'Not Waving, But Drowning' on 19 April via AMF Records.

'Not Waving, But Drowning' follows Loyle's BRIT (Best Male, Best Newcomer) and Mercury Prize nominated, top 20 debut 'Yesterday's Gone'. The bedrock of honest and raw sentimentality that you heard on 'Yesterday's Gone' left an inextinguishable mark on music in general and UK Hip Hop in particular, standing out as an ageless, bulletproof debut.

'Not Waving, But Drowning', Loyle's new album, gives yet more evidence - as if it were needed - of his razor-sharp flow and his unique storytelling ability. Yes, he can rap, but he allies that with the sensitivity of a poet, the observational skills of a novelist, and warmth of your best friend. The album opens with 'Dear Jean', a letter to his mother in which he's telling her that he has found the love of his life, 'a woman from the skies', and he's moving out.

It goes without saying that Loyle's music is hard to categorise, but what is even more impressive is that for someone who grew up listening to Mos Def, Biggie Smalls, Roots Manuva, and Wu Tang Clan, he doesn't sound like any of them. Although he might from time to time give lyrical nods to them, he's no imitator.

Loyle loves cooking. There are two tracks on this album named after chefs. The British-Israeli chef Yotam Ottolenghi, and the now deceased Italian chef Antonio Carluccio. 'Ottolenghi' the first single from the album was featured on the BBC Radio 1 B-list, BBC 6 Music A-list and has already been streamed over 5 million times.

Loyle refers to real life for everything, the title of 'Yesterday's Gone' came from a song of his step father, the title of his new album 'Not Waving, But Drowning' comes from a poem by his grandfather, which in turn came from a Stevie Smith poem. What you hear on the track 'Krispy' is real. He is pouring his heart out to his best friend Rebel Kleff after their relationship went downhill, he invites him on the track to say his piece but he doesn't turn up, so we get a flugel solo instead.

Loyle also has his own personal black consciousness movement. When he refers to his 'fathers' in the track 'Looking Back' he really is referring to two fathers. His biological father, a black man who he knows, but knows very little of, and his step father, a poet and musician who happens to be a white man but died a sudden unexpected death from epilepsy (SUDEP). With no real emotional ties to his biological father, but a deep connection with a deceased step-father, where does a young child turn He succinctly captures many of the great, unspoken, cultural and historical paradoxes of multicultural Britain on 'Looking Back'.

An album like this is hard to find. It is for those who like their Hip Hop to have soul, and their soul to have spirit. This is because it works on so many levels, but it is reflecting the personality of its creator. There are a host of collaborators here, Jorja Smith, Rebel Kleff, Kiko Bun, Kwes, Jordan Rakei, Sampha, Tom Misch and more, but none are overpowering. They blend righteously into place.
Loyle is not bitter with people who have let him down, or a society that lets so many down, but the combination of anger and love he has gives his voice the perfect blend of strength and vulnerability. This might be a coming of age album, but it's also a coming of ageless album. Loyle's 2019 Spring tour - which includes London's Roundhouse - sold out within 20 minutes of being on sale.

Not Waving, But Drowning



A rapper that raps about family is hard to find. The boys in the 'hood' tend not to be that interested in how much a 'brother' loves his mother, or how much he misses his dad, or even how much he misses his best friend. The boys in the 'hood' tend to be obsessed with the size of their cars, girls, bank accounts, and other personal 'possessions'. Loyle Carner's Mercury and BRIT Prize nominated debut 'Yesterday's Gone' (Released 2017), made it clear that he wasn't that kind of rapper. In fact, every time I talk to him about his work we talk about the world, and we tended to confuse ourselves by calling his work rap, poems, or songs, sometimes in the same sentence. They are in truth all of these things.



Here's some poetry.



Honestly I need them.

I hate them but I grieve them

I think I've finally found the reason

Trust

Like the fire needs the air.

I won't burn unless you're there.





'Not Waving, But Drowning', Loyle's forthcoming new album, gives us yet more evidence, (if it were needed), that he still has what rappers call, flow, but he hasn't lost any of his story telling qualities. Yes, the boy can rap, but a rapper with the sensitivity of a true poet, the observational skills of a novelist, and warmth of your best friend. The album opens with 'Dear Jean', a letter to his mother in which he's telling her that he has found the love of his life, (a woman from the skies), and he's moving out. He really loves the woman from the skies, but he still loves his mum, and so he reassures her that there is no competition, and tells her that 'She's not behind me or behind you, but beside we and beside two', his words. Or to put it another way, moving out without moving out. My words.



It goes without saying that Loyle's music is hard to categorise, but what is even more impressive is that for someone who grew up listening to Mos Def, Biggie Smalls, Roots Manuva, and Wu Tang Clan, he doesn't sound like any of them. Although he might from time to time give lyrical nods to them, he's no imitator. He says finding his own voice was something he always found easy. Although young, (in terms of a musical career), he has confidence in his own words and his own voice, and has never been tempted to sound like he's been hanging out in the USA, or rolling in 'Grime' on the mean streets of East London. And so when it comes to the creative process he doesn't simply find a beat to jump on and ride. Beats are important, but they are tenderly layered with samples, keyboards, or live drums, all imaginatively assembled for the laying on of words. Some tracks start with the idea, some with poetry, and some with a verse from a singer or some other melodic inspiration, but there is no formula.



Here's some poetry.



Don't hold any memories of us

Rather hold you everyday until the memories are dust

Yo we only caught the train

Cos you know I hate the bus





A prolific reader, who has dyslexia is hard to find. Add ADHD (Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder) to that and life should become even more difficult. To deal with your difficulties you devise coping strategies, which can differ from person to person. Loyle loves cooking. There are two tracks on this album named after chefs. The British-Israeli chef Ottolenghi, and the now deceased Italian chef Antonio Carluccio. Loyle describes himself as 'weird' because he is happy to read a cookbook as if he was reading a novel or a book of poetry. He has opened a cookery school for young adults not just because he loves food and wants to make more of it, but because it is one of the few things that can focus the ADHD mind. And when it comes to his other love, football, his approach is the same. Focus. He wanted to be a striker he says, up front scoring goals, but found his best position was in midfield because he was able to focus, check options, and see passes ahead of time, providing passes for other players just when they needed them. He says, 'You don't grow out of ADHD, you grow into it.' Loyle is also working with Levi's® on their music project where he is mentoring young musicians over a six month period, culminating at Liverpool Sound City festival.



More poetry.



When the going is tough

I wait till it falls on deaf ears

Hearsay

Without the boundaries of love



He also said, 'Ask most people and they will say that they love their mothers, but most are not going to rap about her'. On his first album Loyle's mum Jean wrote about the 'scribble of a boy' that growing up would take things apart to see how they worked. On this album she speaks with pride about a man who has found his place in the world.



Yes, poetry.



I'm still looking for the answers

Trying to find the right questions

Still waiting for my fathers

But can't break them in to sections



This poetry is serious. Loyle has his own personal black consciousness movement. He told me that he always felt safe at home, and being the darkest one in the family never meant a thing, but then when he had to face the outside world he felt hostility. It shook him up. Now he had to start asking questions, but what were the questions. This is serious. When he refers to his 'fathers' in the verse above taken from the track 'Looking Back' he really is referring to two fathers. His biological father, a black man who he knows, but knows very little of, and his step father, a poet and musician who happens to be a white man but died a sudden unexpected death from epilepsy (SUDEP). So to whom would a young black (or mixed race) kid turn He succinctly captures many of the great, unspoken, cultural and historical paradoxes of multicultural Britain when he says, 'My great grandfather could of owned my other one.' We are a people descended from enslaved people on one hand, and enslavers on the other, something we are still struggling to come to terms with, and this can be apparent in one family. A big book could have told you that, but here we get it in one line on the track, Looking Back.





Loyle refers to real life for everything. The album is peppered with captured moments that he records on his phone. These moments can range from conversations with taxi drivers, to capturing the moment when England scores a goal in the world cup. The title of 'Yesterday's Gone' came from a song of his step father, the title of his new album 'Not Waving but Drowning' comes from a poem by his grandfather, which in turn came from a Stevie Smith poem. What you hear on the track 'Krispy' is real. He is pouring his heart out to his best friend after their relationship went downhill, he invites him on the track to say his piece but he doesn't turn up, so we get a flugel solo instead. Yes people, this is real.



An album like this is hard to find. It is for those who like their Hip Hop to have soul, and their soul to have spirit, this is an album for those who have, (I'm sorry, I'm going to say it), emotional intelligence. This is because it works on so many levels, but it is reflecting the personality of its creator. There are a host of collaborators here, Jorja Smith, Rebel Kleff, Kiko Bun, Jordan Rakei, Sampha, Tom Misch and more, but none are overpowering. They blend righteously into place. Loyle is not bitter with people who have let him down, or the society that has let him down, but the combination of anger and love he has gives his voice the perfect blend of strength and vulnerability. This might be a coming of age album, but it's also a coming of ageless album. His first album worked, and this second album is a continuation of that work. Not creating a form, but being formless, as someone like Bruce Lee once said.

And here's some poetry from mum.



We talked long in to the darkest hours

Until we saw the burnished sky

And our eyes stung

As our words blurred and became thoughts

As we were silenced by the dawn

We clung to each other like sailors in a storm

Poet, novelist, musician and academic, Anthony Joseph teams up with legendary UK producer Dave Okumu for forthcoming album, ‘Rowing Up River To Get Our Names Back’

Dave Okumu, known perhaps best as frontman for The Invisible, though digging deeper into his production credits, huge names emerge such as; Grace Jones, Amy Winehouse, Jesse Ware, Rosie Lowe and Eska. On this album, the magic and alchemy of Dave’s production style showcase subtle sonics and deep layering resulting in a contemporary sound to carry Anthony’s afrofuturistic metrical meanings.

Anthony and Dave first came across each other when working with Shabaka Hutchings during Covid broadcasts, and then after Anthony performed some poems on Dave’s 2023 album ‘I Came From Love’, the seeds of collaboration were sown.

With a little more psychedelia, a little more experimentation, Dave’s eclectic vision focuses on the actual sounds on these pieces. Anthony stated that “The best producers guide you, not push you” now add to that the fact that both these humans were born on the same day, a concoction of laid back attitudes in people with strong purpose, some real magic can happen, naturally.

Early writing sessions for this record took place in 2022, around Mount Blanc in France. Anthony was away touring with long-time collaborator, Jason Yarde. Ideas were a little thin and they found themselves somewhat repeating previous work resulting in Anthony rethinking things a little, and so entered Dave Okumu.

LP opener ‘Satellite’ is a fine example of how this new partnership pans out. New musicians have been enlisted; Dan See (Drums), Aviram Barath (Synths), Nick Ramm on Fender Rhodes and Byron Wallen (Trumpet). Add to that the mighty vocal power house of Eska and we have a whole new dimension of soul and depth, to carry Anthony’s statements. “You build a wall, we go under, you build it higher, we go higher, like a satellite” .

On the album's second single, ‘Tony’ - there’s a nod to all drummers and creators of African rhythms, from the point of view of Afrobeat legend Tony Allen. Highlighting this is drummer’s drummer Richard Spaven as Dave’s choice of skin beater. He successfully reminds us that Tony was someone who understood the real power of rhythm and how it is used to unite people.

As well as the new musicians on this LP, Dave Okumu played all the guitars and used the studio as his tool. On ‘A Juba for Janet’ - a poem to Joseph’s mother, and a track so bass heavy that it feels as though it could sit in a deep dubstep set in Plastic People days, - Anthony’s voice reaches straight down your ear canals next to dark drums, huge synths and delayed saxophone stabs from Colin Webster. Slightly more introspective verses on ‘An Afrofuturist Poem’ see Dave’s beats show off the real future sound of this record, kalimba, moog bass and guitars all played by the man himself.

Mellower and deeper moments are also present, Anthony’s cryptic yet informative storytelling is at its absolute best on ‘Churches Of Sound (The Benetiz-Rojo)’ - Caribbean and Windrush history reeled off alongside a linear musical timeline of Black music in the diaspora.

A reminder that this body of work is first of 2 volumes, ‘Rowing Up River To Get Our Names Back’ is not a follow up to Anthony’s previous album, but more a development of his 2006 novel, ‘The African Origins of UFOs’ a book where experimental elements of afro-futurism, metafiction, science fiction, surrealism, mythology are rewritten in Anthony’s innovative language. Look out for Volume 2 also coming in 2025.

Anthony Joseph releases, ‘Rowing Up River To Get Our Names Back’ (Vol. 1) via Heavenly Sweetness 7th February 2025 and he will play live at Ronnie Scotts in London on 14th March 2025, with Dave Okumu as a special guest.

CREDITS:

Vocals - Anthony Joseph

Additional vocals, vocal arrangements - Eska Mtungwazi

Producer - Guitars, Bass, Moog, Synthesisers, Programming, Percussion - Dave Okumu

Drums - Dan See

Drums on ‘Tony’ - Richard Spaven

Synthesiser - Aviram Barath

Fender Rhodes, Synthesisers, Nick Ramm

Trumpet - Byron Wallen

Saxophones - Colin Webster

Trombones - James Wade Sired

Habibi Funk is excited to announce the release of Samh Almea'ad, a new 7" record by Libyan artist Cheb Bakr, hitting the shelves on December 6, 2024. Recorded in the early 2000s, Bakr’s music fuses the pulse of Libyan pop with R&B and hip-hop influences, bringing the energy of Benghazi to the dance floors of New York in the early 2000s. Cheb Bakr’s sound is a unique blend of styles that captures the essence of two worlds and includes production and vocals by Ahmed Ben Ali.

Our journey with Cheb Bakr’s music began when Yousef Alhoush, whose father Najib Alhoush led The Free Music from Libya, generously lent us boxes of cassettes to digitize. With the help of a journalist traveling from Tripoli to Cairo, we brought the tapes and a high-quality deck to Egypt. For three days in a hotel room on Zamalek island in Cairo, we sifted through nearly 100 tapes, finally landing on several from Cheb Bakr that dated back to the late 1990s and early 2000s. His albums stood out for their fresh, genre-defying sound—Bakr’s vocals flowed effortlessly over R&B and hip-hop beats with touches of jungle and drum and bass percussion, creating a fusion that crossed cultural and musical boundaries.

Returning to Berlin, we took a deeper dive into the digitized tapes, identifying bands, singers, and producers that excited us. In the process, we noticed familiar rap verses on a few of Bakr’s tracks—verses by none other than Ahmed Ben Ali, who was about to release an album with Habibi Funk. When we asked Ahmed about his connection with Bakr, he explained that they’d collaborated closely at Jamaica Studios in Benghazi, with Ahmed even producing some of Bakr’s songs.

Despite having lost touch for years, Ahmed helped us reconnect with Cheb Bakr through mutual friends. Their reunion took place in Bakr’s living room, where we joined them on a video call to discuss Bakr’s career and his influences. He explained how he sought to reinterpret eastern Libyan folk sounds for a new generation, blending them with contemporary genres.

This 45 marks the beginning of our work with Cheb Bakr, offering a glimpse into his unique musical style, with a full album to follow at a later date. The release includes two standout tracks that showcase Bakr’s dynamic range. Side A features “Samh Almea'ad,” a reinterpretation of a 2003 New York classic with Bakr’s signature spin. Since our first listen in that Cairo hotel room, it’s been played at every Habibi Funk set without exception. Side B, produced by Ahmed Ben Ali, features “Rjana Lamta,” a track that hints at American influences alongside a nod to Ahmed’s “Dameek Majeb.” Bakr’s artistry ties these contrasting elements into an original, dancefloor-ready track that remains as captivating today as it was two decades ago. As always, this 7" release comes with a booklet detailing some of the Cheb Bakr story. Samh Almea'ad will be out on vinyl December 6th.

Licensing info: These songs were licensed from Cheb Bakr. We pay the licensing partner 50% of the profits of this release. Only project related costs are deductible from the gross income, research and travel costs come out of our own share. Publishing was not included in our agreement (We feel it’s important to be transparent about these deals, therefore we will include these infos in all future releases).

Ben Klock & Fadi Mohem announce debut collaborative album featuring Coby Sey and Flowdan on new label LAYER

Ben Klock and Fadi Mohem present their first collaborative album on their new label LAYER. The ten-track full length project titled Layer One follows the hypnotic EP Klockworks 34 that set the stage in 2022. In a bold departure from the techno roots that have defined and nurtured their careers, Klock and Mohem are now pushing genre boundaries, exploring IDM, ambient and experimental electronic music while still retaining the brilliance that characterised their earlier work.

The conceptual direction of Layer One delves into a post-human world, where humans are close to extinction on Earth, leaving only imprints, traces, and relics behind—digital fossils and machine-generated images capturing fleeting moments of non-human photography, as Artificial Intelligence remains in a world that quietly thrives without us. We do not perceive this as a bleak apocalyptic dystopia, but more a sober and serene reflection of a world that continues to exist and flourish, indifferent to the absence of humanity. Despite this unremitting setting, through this journey we find survivors who signal a remembrance of the human sensibilities.

Elevating this project are two very human and dynamic collaborations featuring the charismatic Coby Sey and the legendary grime MC Flowdan. Sey, a prominent figure in the British music scene known for his work with artists like Tirzah and Mica Levi, injects his music with a mesmerizing emotional depth. Opening the album with the powerful track ‘Ultimately,’ Sey offers spoken-word musings on creativity and life over experimental landscapes meticulously crafted by Klock and Mohem. Nostalgia permeates this opening track, and track 7 ‘Clean Slate’ reinforces this sentiment with Sey’s stream-of-consciousness wordplay.

Flowdan, the gritty MC whose verses have become anthems of the UK grime movement, made headlines in 2023 with two songs that reached the top 20 of the UK singles chart. In 2024, he was awarded his first Grammy for the Skrillex and Fred Again collaboration Rumble, becoming the first grime artist to win in any category. On track ‘Our Sector,’ Flowdan unleashes his raw energy and dynamic flow, adding a thrilling vocal dimension to the album’s narrative. The fluid delivery of his lyrics and rhythmic timing are enhanced by the staccato beats and abstract synths. These collaborations are not mere features; they are pivotal moments that crystallize the album’s vision—an experimental re-imagining of electronic music’s possibilities.

Immediately offering an impressive entry to Klock and Mohem’s changing sonic universe ‘Escape Velocity’ shows the collaboration at its strongest. Deftly juggling between ambient chords and more densely intricate rhythmic moments. These tightly layered textures and intense clashing moments are continued through most of the album. On other tracks the duo are just as innovative ‘Rest Assured’ rips open the sound palette Klock and Mohem are known for, synths dart around flickering through into unexpected areas. Penultimate track ‘The Machine’ feels like the internal innards of a PC or synthesizer brought to life. Electricity flows through the track like an auditory exploration of the digital world's hidden mechanical and electrical processes. In contrast, final track ‘Melatonin’ does exactly what the name suggests; its soothing melodic ambience cradles the listener as the album draws to a close.

Alongside the album’s release, the duo will release two singles. This album represents the work of two artists at the peak of their creative powers, inviting listeners to step outside the familiar and explore a different musical perspective.

Multi Culti World Records venture deeper into the new new age with the release of 'Ocean of Beauty - Meditations for Synthesizer and Bansuri Flute,' a collaboration between California-based artist/DJ Earthtones and Indian classical musician Sheela Bringi. Earthtones, fresh off his genre-defying debut album on Wonderwheel, here dives into the deep end of the ocean of ambient. With music that traverses cultures,he’s known for bridging influences from Cumbia to hip hop and house music. Here he presents his most consciousness-expanding work yet, no doubt influenced by his involvement in Ojai new age culture,years living in ashrams, practicing Shaktism,+ spending as much time curating sounds suitable foraural healing and meditation as for dance-floors. He’s found a perfect muse in Boulder-based Sheela Bringi, whose virtuosity in Indian classical music sets the tone of the record with her bansuri (Indianbamboo flute) & harp, blending traditional instrumentation with more contemporary influences. Bringi was a direct disciple of bansuri master GSSachdev, and represents a devotional musical lineage. She has released two solo albums, 'Shakti Sutra' and 'Incantations,' and her work has been featured on over 50 world and ambient records, plus publicly on outlets from NPR to NBC News, & more. 'Ocean of Beauty' is the English translation of an ancient Sanskrit text devoted to the divine mother, the Sri Saundarya Lahari, The song titles are taken from verses in that text, and the album is in fact a dedication to the goddess Lalita Devi. It creates a serene, meditative space which seamlessly blends traditions; synth-driven ragas with a spirit of tranquility that nurtures Multi Culti’s philosophical bent towards ‘music without borders.’

Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur's court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word "Camelot" accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of "utopia." In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson's 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python's 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armored knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys's profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy's White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle's extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle's Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one's own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. "Back in Camelot," she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, "I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry." The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping "in the unfinished basement," an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above "sirens and desert deities." If she questions her own agency_whether she is "wishing stones were standing" or just "pissing in the wind"_it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of "multi-felt dimensions" both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of "Camelot," with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to "Some Friends," an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises_"bright and beaming verses" versus hot curses_which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020's achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory "Earthsong," bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to _ a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?) Those whom "Trust" accuses of treacherous oaths spit through "gilded and golden tooth"_cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry_sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in "Louis": "What's that dance / and can it be done? What's that song / and can it be sung?" Answering affirmatively are "Lucky #8," an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the "tidal pools of pain" and the "theory of collapse," and "Full Moon in Leo," which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and "big hair." But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle's confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on "Lucky #8," special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle's beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia's FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad "Blowing Kisses"_Pallett's crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX's The Bear_Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer_and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: "No words to fumble with / I'm not a beggar to language any longer." Such rare moments of speechlessness_"I'm so fucking honoured," she bluntly proclaims_suggest a state "only a god could come up with." (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world_including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth_but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the "charts and diagrams" of "Lucky #8," a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in "Full Moon in Leo," the bloody invocations of the organ-stained "Mary Miracle," and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with "Fractal Canyon"'s repeated, exalted insistence that she's "not alone here." But where is here? The word "utopia" itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek "eutopia," or "good-place"_the facet most remembered today_and "outopia," or "no-place," a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary. Or as fellow Canadian songwriter Neil Young once sang, "Everyone knows this is nowhere." "Can you see how I'd be tempted," Castle asks out of nowhere, held in the mystery, "to pretend I'm not alone and let the memory bend?"

Since first bonding over Slowdive at a Texas karaoke bar six years ago, musicians Uriel Avila and Jonathan Perez have grown trauma ray into Fort Worth's foremost flag bearer of crushing shoegaze. A five-piece rounded out by bassist Darren Baun, drummer Nicholas Bobotas, and guitarist Coleman Pruitt, the band's debut album, Chameleon, captures their evolving sound at an apex of majestic devastation. A fusion of downer hooks, gauzy melancholia, and bulldozer riffs, the album heaves and crashes across 50 minutes of stacked amplifier alchemy. Lyrically the songs trace similarly lofty and brooding terrain; Avila says "The theme is death. And a chameleon, like death, can shape-shift in and out our lives in different forms." Chameleon opens with "Ember," dreamy and distant, alternately anthemic and apocalyptic, defeated and deafening. Lead single "Bishop" perfectly encapsulates trauma ray's depth and dimension, ripping out of the gate with "the biggest, baddest, saddest wall of sound." Lyrics about being burnt at the stake and "tossed in the flame" float above a stop-start assault of precision distortion, eventually expanding into a lush, heavy, sorrowful end coda. "Spectre" is a mysterious, introspective dirge, envisioned as a "mellow, slowcore, Duster-thing," all feeling and heavy fuzz chords (with no lead guitar). Avila wrote it, "to be a hymnal" from the perspective of someone who won't let go - a ghost, an ex, a shadow self. Although the album is rich with subtleties, graceful lulls, and "breaths of air," the band's three guitar attack is its defining force, a power flexed to its peak on "Bardo." Perez's intentions were blunt: "I wanted to write a riff that was hard as fuck." The result is alternately mean and eerie, veering between noisy one string bends and surging headbang, mapping a middle ground between Unwound and early-Deftones. One of trauma ray's greatest gifts is their ability to make doomy, sledgehammer heaviness sound like an earworm, without production tricks or gimmicks: "Riff, verse, chorus, three guitar parts - that's all you need." This quality is particularly apparent on the title track, a churning slab of amplifier worship, swirling chords, and heavenly, defeated vocals about not belonging, shape-shifting, and death ("A twisted face / Void of attention / An empty space / In your reflection"). "U.S.D.D.O.S" closes the album, swaying across seven minutes of grey skied guitar and haunted voice, subtly thickening as it deepens. Feedback and shrapnel gradually begin raining down, like a satellite disintegrating in the atmosphere. Titled as an acronym after a poem by Chilean writer Roberto Bolaño that loosely translates to "a dream within a dream," the melody softens, smears, and then disappears, slowly swallowed by the gravity of eternal descent. Chameleon is a masterpiece of craft, balance, melody, lyricism, and gravity, flexing a fresh vision of loud-quiet-loud architectures and the vertigo depths of blasted harmonics. From Slowdive to Nothing, to Hum and beyond, the band absorb and expand on their influences into a rare and dedicated alchemy. trauma ray's cinematic tempest is a gathering storm only just taking flight.

Since first bonding over Slowdive at a Texas karaoke bar six years ago, musicians Uriel Avila and Jonathan Perez have grown trauma ray into Fort Worth's foremost flag bearer of crushing shoegaze. A five-piece rounded out by bassist Darren Baun, drummer Nicholas Bobotas, and guitarist Coleman Pruitt, the band's debut album, Chameleon, captures their evolving sound at an apex of majestic devastation. A fusion of downer hooks, gauzy melancholia, and bulldozer riffs, the album heaves and crashes across 50 minutes of stacked amplifier alchemy. Lyrically the songs trace similarly lofty and brooding terrain; Avila says "The theme is death. And a chameleon, like death, can shape-shift in and out our lives in different forms." Chameleon opens with "Ember," dreamy and distant, alternately anthemic and apocalyptic, defeated and deafening. Lead single "Bishop" perfectly encapsulates trauma ray's depth and dimension, ripping out of the gate with "the biggest, baddest, saddest wall of sound." Lyrics about being burnt at the stake and "tossed in the flame" float above a stop-start assault of precision distortion, eventually expanding into a lush, heavy, sorrowful end coda. "Spectre" is a mysterious, introspective dirge, envisioned as a "mellow, slowcore, Duster-thing," all feeling and heavy fuzz chords (with no lead guitar). Avila wrote it, "to be a hymnal" from the perspective of someone who won't let go - a ghost, an ex, a shadow self. Although the album is rich with subtleties, graceful lulls, and "breaths of air," the band's three guitar attack is its defining force, a power flexed to its peak on "Bardo." Perez's intentions were blunt: "I wanted to write a riff that was hard as fuck." The result is alternately mean and eerie, veering between noisy one string bends and surging headbang, mapping a middle ground between Unwound and early-Deftones. One of trauma ray's greatest gifts is their ability to make doomy, sledgehammer heaviness sound like an earworm, without production tricks or gimmicks: "Riff, verse, chorus, three guitar parts - that's all you need." This quality is particularly apparent on the title track, a churning slab of amplifier worship, swirling chords, and heavenly, defeated vocals about not belonging, shape-shifting, and death ("A twisted face / Void of attention / An empty space / In your reflection"). "U.S.D.D.O.S" closes the album, swaying across seven minutes of grey skied guitar and haunted voice, subtly thickening as it deepens. Feedback and shrapnel gradually begin raining down, like a satellite disintegrating in the atmosphere. Titled as an acronym after a poem by Chilean writer Roberto Bolaño that loosely translates to "a dream within a dream," the melody softens, smears, and then disappears, slowly swallowed by the gravity of eternal descent. Chameleon is a masterpiece of craft, balance, melody, lyricism, and gravity, flexing a fresh vision of loud-quiet-loud architectures and the vertigo depths of blasted harmonics. From Slowdive to Nothing, to Hum and beyond, the band absorb and expand on their influences into a rare and dedicated alchemy. trauma ray's cinematic tempest is a gathering storm only just taking flight.

Big Crown Records is proud to present Dave Guy’s debut album Ruby. Having lent his talents both on stage and in the studio to artists like Amy Winehouse, Lizzo, Pharrell, and Sharon Jones to currently playing every night on The Tonight Show as a member of The Roots, Dave steps out on his own with a jazz record that is both unique and modern. Ruby mixes his musical in­fluences with the energies of the city that raised him, capturing different moods and inviting the listener into the world as Dave Guy sees and feels it. Recorded in Queens at The Legendary Diamond Mine, the album is produced by Homer Steinweiss and Nick Movshon and features musical contributions from Leon Michels, Marco Benevento, Claire Cottrill, and more.

Ruby instantly sits with the classics as an album that is fully realized and not simply a collection of songs. Lead single “7th Heaven” opens the album with an anthemic energy as Dave’s horn lines soar over thundering drums, ethereal vocals, and dancing piano. Keeping the energy high, “Footwork” is a Latin inspired number that is sure to soundtrack many a dance fl­oor from SoHo to Harlem. The synth intro of “Pinky Ring” cleanses your palate for the mood shift when the track drops. Deep bass tones underline the impeccable drumming and

Dave effortlessly finds the pocket wasting no notes as the verses and choruses trade off. The record leans into spiritual jazz vibes on “Diamond Encore” with a dark and deep almost “Axelrodish” rhythm track then picks the energy back up with the stomper “Still Standing”. “Dave Wants You” has a bop all its own with an unorthodox drum pattern that Dave anchors with his trumpet hits. The otherworldly arrangement of “Drony Boy” puts the production on a pedestal. The first intro almost serves as an intermission on the album while the second

intro sets up the neck snapping track that is about to drop. A menacing guitar signals the builds and the whole thing is juxtaposed by Dave’s beautiful trumpet riffs. “Quesodillas” & “Green Door” begin the autumn of the album with their mellow & intimate energy and “Ruby’s Rubies”, the album’s closer is the perfect ending to the journey.

GER Ayo ist zurück mit "Mami Wata", ihrem 7. Album. Benannt nach der nigerianischen Göttin des Meeres. Im Mittelpunkt dieses neuen Albums steht das Wasser, die Hauptinspiration der Sängerin, die vor 3 Jahren nach Tahiti zog. Ayo hat aus ihrer Umgebung inmitten des Pazifiks neue Kompositionen geschöpft, die von intimen Balladen bis zu rhythmischen Litaneien reichen. "Mami Wata" ist ein Logbuch, ein Zeugnis für die Neugeburt einer starken Künstlerin. Nichts wird dem Zufall überlassen, weder in ihren Texten in freien Versen, noch in ihren Melodien, Harmonien und Arrangements, die mit Präzision zwischen den Genres oszillieren. Produziert von Gitarrist Freddy Koella (Bob Dylan, Lhasa...), erwärmen ihre akustischen Texturen das Herz ebenso wie ihre Texte, die von Spiritualität, Freiheit und der Kraft handeln, endlich man selbst zu sein.

Larry Mullins, langjähriger Mitarbeiter von Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, Iggy Pop and The Stooges, Swans & The Residents, hat mit "Camissonia" ein einzigartiges und persönliches Soloalbum aus minimalen elektronischen Sci-Fi-Vignetten geschaffen, das lose auf den Schriften und dem Leben des deutschen Schriftstellers und Botanikers Adelbert von Chamisso basiert. Das Album ist nach der von Chamisso benannten Pflanzenart benannt, die von seinem Kollegen, dem Botaniker Johann Friedrich Eschscholtz, erstmals beschrieben wurde. Es ist größtenteils ein instrumentaler Soundtrack, der mehrere bemerkenswerte Ereignisse aus Chamissos Buch "Peter Schlemihls wundersame Geschichte (Der Mann, der seinen Schatten verkaufte, 1814)" sowie seine tatsächliche Überseereise an Bord von Otto von Kotzebues Schiff, der "Rurik", während der Jahre 1815-1818, als Botaniker, musikalisch illustriert. Das Artwork zum Album besteht überwiegend aus drei Holzschnitten, die zwischen 1915 und 1919 von Ernst Ludwig Kirchner geschaffen wurden. Kirchner hegte Anfang des 20. Jahrhunderts, also ca. 100 Jahre nach der Veröffentlichung von Chamissos Buch, eine ähnliche Faszination für das Werk wie Larry Mullins weitere 100 Jahre nach Erstellung von Kirchners expressionistischem Meisterwerkes - dem "Peter Schlemihl-Zyklus". Diesmal erweitert "Camissonia" das Chamisso-Erbe als Interpretation in Musik. Camissonia wurde 2020 während der Lockdown-Periode in Wien, Österreich, aufgenommen, die das belebte Zentrum Wiens in einen Zustand einer evakuierten Sci-Fi-Dystopie versetzte. Während Mullins als Musiker im Burgtheater arbeitete, fand er seine Sammlung von Instrumenten plötzlich für die kommenden Monate im Orchestergraben eingeschlossen. Er hatte jedoch eine kleine Auswahl an Elektronik in seiner Wohnung und hatte auch die Möglichkeit, sie aufzunehmen. Außerdem hatte er einen Stapel Bücher zum Lesen, und ganz oben lag - "Der Mann, der seinen Schatten verkaufte". "Die Bilder dieser Geschichte verließen meinen Geist weder bei Tag noch bei Nacht. Ich begann, Chamissos echtes Leben zu erforschen und fand ein wildes Abenteuer rund um die Welt auf einem Schiff! Eine parallele nächtliche Obsession mit den Sci-Fi-Filmen von Rainer Werner Fassbinder verschmolz schließlich zu einem bizarren Moment der Klarheit. Ich richtete mein karges Equipment ein, um zu sehen, welche Klänge ich erzeugen konnte, um die Bilder in meinem Kopf zu interpretieren. Ich entdeckte, dass die mir auferlegten Einschränkungen eine eigene Atmosphäre schufen, und so entstand jeden Tag ein neues Musikstück. Nach meiner Rückkehr nach Berlin wollte ich das Projekt so schnell wie möglich abschließen und keine weiteren Instrumente hinzufügen, um die seltsame Qualität zu bewahren. Ich lud zwei Sängerinnen ein, die ich in Berlin kannte, um bei zwei Stücken einen Chor zu singen, und ich fügte bei einem weiteren Stück selber einen Chor hinzu. Dann schloss ich die Tür und warf den Schlüssel weg."

In Nordafrika ist eine Ziara eine spirituelle Zeremonie, zu der die Menschen kommen, um Dämonen zu exorzieren, ihren Körper zu reinigen und lautstark ihre Verbundenheit mit Gott, dem Propheten und den Gottheiten, die ihn zu verkörpern behaupten, zu bekräftigen. Eine berauschende Ekstase, die an ein Voodoo-Ritual erinnert. Die besten Meister dieser Art von Zeremonie sind die Gnawa. Sie stammen ursprünglich aus Schwarzafrika, vor allem aus dem Sudan und dem Senegal, und wurden von Tuareg-Räubern in den südlichen Maghreb verschleppt, um sie als Sklaven zu benutzen. Nach mehreren Jahrzehnten der Sklaverei gelang es ihnen, sich aus dieser schmerzhaften Situation zu befreien, die sie in einigen ihrer Lieder zum Ausdruck bringen. Vor allem aber zeichnen sich die Gnawa durch ihre bezaubernde Musik, ihren Tanz und ihre Rhythmen aus, denen therapeutische Wirkungen zugeschrieben werden. Vor allem in den letzten Jahren hat die musikalische und rhythmische Tradition der Gnawa, die sich sowohl an die Arabesken des Nahen Ostens als auch an die afrikanische Perkussion anlehnt, unter den marokkanischen Künstlern der neuen Generation eine deutliche Wiederbelebung erfahren. Doch bisher ist es nur der sehr populären Gruppe Nass El Ghiwane gelungen, mit Talent, Treue und Authentizität den Geist der Gnawa wiederzubeleben, wie dieses Album beweist. Also schließen Sie sich ihnen an und lassen Sie sich in Trance versetzen.