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Some friends think that Shihab the man owes the balance of his soul to his beautiful Danish wife. They may be right; for Eros is the very essence of what Shihab plays.Yet Eros is a god with many a face. A tale of tender mournings Shihab's flute is telling in MAUVE - a piece that translates its title into delicately changing colors of sound. In UMA FITA DE TRES CORES he has his instrument wooing with the proud self-reliance of Latin grandezza. Calmly, softly, almost blandishly Shihab blows the solo flute in the Jimmy Woode composition MY KINDA WORLD. Serene and somewhat playful his own title ANOTHER SAMBA comes along - a most uncommon composition by the way: lasting for sixty bars as if growing independent out of itself, with solos that appear to be additional spinnings rather than improvised choruses; and yet; a perfect, self sustaining melody no element of which is superfluous. In the last of the pieces for flute, in Klook Clarke's THE WILD MAN, which is based on a flourish of trumpets, Shihab for the first time reminds of the sombre, the demon-like face of God Eros. He contrasts flawlessly intoned passages with challenging phrases, phrases raucously sung into the flute - really, he is a 'wild man' who is playing like that. This raucous challenging sound prevails throughout the four baritone-titles ('Shihab never withholds long to caress', Campi says). Shihab blows the instrument the same way he speaks: without any delay, directly coming to the point. And he treats it like a voice, not aiming at an artificially homogeneous sound in all the registers, but at their different modes of expression. In the high pitches the horn gains a brilliant tenor-like quality - for instance in PETER'S WALTZ, dedicated to Shihab's son Peter, and in Kenny Clarke's simple drum fills comprising theme JAY-JAY. In the deep register Shihab produces snotty sounds filling lady's ears with horrors like Pan - thus in JAY-JAY and in the boppy blues SET UP . Shihab's sense of a scurrilous humor breaks through in SEEDS (which reminds of the West-African heritage of jazz with its multiple rhythms and its renunciation of harmonious development - only the eight bars of the bridge base on a progression of chords): not only does he omit the notorious bombastic chord by the ensemble after his own final cadenza, he even ends with a minor second above the keynote. Seems as if Shihab now unrestrictedly conveys to his music all the experiences and emotions he formerly did not deal with in a musical way. Shihab the man need not be disturbed so that Shihab the musician may improvise passionate choruses. It would be unjust, however, to forget the choruses of the four other musicians for those by the 'born leader'. Francy Boland, taciturn and always introverted: he plays an extrovert, a masculine piano. Even with spare single note lines he produces a piercing and ringing sound that hitherto nobody except him has discovered, a bluesy sound bespeaking the very element of frustration that lies within the title of the trio number WHO'LL BUY MY DREAM. The unfailing feeling for rhythm the musicians of the CBBB praise with the arranger Boland, becomes manifest in the piano solo on SET UP. Francy's improvisation is rhythmically styled in a Monk-like manner, and yet no accent could be set differently. Maybe this is the secret of the Shihab-Combo. 'Rhythm is our business', this credo of Jimmy Lunceford could be the one of the five musicians as well. Sadi hits his vibes as dryly as if wanting to bring its ancestors to memory, the wooden chimes of West Africa's coastal tribes. To reach the fullest poignancy possible, he intentionally calms down even the resonance in MY KINDA WORLD. In UMA FITA DE TRES CORES Jimmy Woode bears out the crispy jazz beat against Sadi's Bongos and Klook's Latin-American percussion all by himself. Moreover - and that, too, is connected with the school of the Duke who was the first in the history of jazz to discover the instrument's potential as a melody instrument - Woode rips a marvelous counterpoint to the inventions of the other melody instruments, take for example PETER'S WALTZ. And then there is Kenny Clarke. Klook. On the entire record he only uses his brushes. Means by which different drummers only know to bring forward impressionistically blending noises: He drums a vigorous beat with them, fanciful fills, a solo, melodious and at once skillfully playing with cross rhythms in JAY-JAY. The 'born leader', the 'outstanding baritone saxophonist of modern jazz' (Joachim-Ernst Berendt), he could not wish himself different sidemen for this record overdue since some years.

Welcome reisssue for monster soul-funk LP 'Disconnection', one of the most obscure and sought-after releases from top 70s disco label, Prelude. Ridiculously expensive and hard-to-find in the original, this album is stuffed full with killer tracks spanning warm, soulful disco, high-stepping groove and boogie-heavy funk all written and produced by Robert Holmes. Standouts include the jazzy free-style 'Dead On The Case', later reworked for the mysterious French Skyline project, cool jazz-funk groover 'Bay City', recently edited by none other than Balearic maestro Lexx, and the floor-friendly chunky funk workout 'Cash Money'. However no track is a filler on this superb album which fully deserves its 'holy grail' status with collectors. Essential!

'Twistin' the Night Away' was one of Cooke's more successful LP's, only his second ever to chart, and from here on, all of his albums would sell in serious numbers. 'Twistin' the Night Away' remains one of Cooke's most accessible records, despite the fact that it was a "twist" album. Around them, the singer is at his most soulful, exciting, and passionate, on the bluesy "Somebody Have Mercy"; the romantic lament "Somebody's Gonna Miss Me"; the achingly beautiful, yearning "A Whole Lot of Woman"; and the soaring "Soothe Me" (with Lou Rawls). One of the great dance albums of its period, but a brilliant soul album as well, which is why it holds up 50 years later.
This is the remastered version of a record that's been out of print for a (too) long time!

Up and away / To your journey to the sun / Drink your rocket juice / Fly away (Hey, Shooter).
High up in the skies, amongst the clouds, Rocket Juice & The Moon was born. Literally. It happened back in 2008, when Damon Albarn, Flea and Tony Allen convened on the same Lagos flight, to play and exchange musical ideas in that city as part of the Africa Express collective. Relishing a shared enthusiasm for one another's work, and bonding immediately, there and then the triumvirate laid down the blueprint for Rocket Juice.
Still, more than a year passed before conditions were set for three weeks together at Albarn's West London studio, recording and refining two-dozen startlingly out and deeply funky instrumental grooves. The next stage was to invite onboard some extremely talented friends, with further sessions in Dallas, New York, Chicago and Paris... Erykah Badu, no less, queen of contemporary soul. Three companions from Africa Express: Malian singer Fatoumata Diawara, whose debut album has topped World Music charts since its release last Autumn; her multi-talented compatriot Cheick Tidiane Seck, whose prodigious keyboardism has lit up releases by artists ranging from Youssou N'Dour to Hank Jones; the young, Ghanaian rapper M.anifest, quizzically existential, switching seamlessly between Twi and English. And the Hypnotic Brass Ensemble, long-time stalwarts in the Honest Jon's set-up — since one of the team discovered them busking near the shop in Portobello Road, on his lunchbreak — with a second album for the label due in May... Finally, the tracks were dispatched for mixing to Berlin, to be meticulously honed, polished and envenomed by Mark Ernestus, one half of the legendary Basic Channel and Rhythm & Sound partnerships.
The result is Rocket Juice & The Moon — out March 26, 2012, on Honest Jon's Records — a triumphant exploration and proliferation of kinetic Afro-funk rhythms: organic, exuberant, communal music-making, evidenced by the project's live debut on stage as part of the Honest Jon's Chop Up in late 2011, which hit London, Marseille, Dublin, and Cork to such great acclaim (witness the flurry of smart-phone film-clips uploaded in the days thereafter).
From the inaugural bars — that absurdly funky slice of instructional timekeeping, 1-2-3-4-5-6 — the liquid pulse of Fela Kuti's classic recordings drives the action through a suite of 18 shape-shifting compositions. The greatest drummer in the world has never sounded so good as he does here. His intricate cross-patterns jostle and lock with Flea's nimble, rumbling bass riffs. Joined by Seck on There and Extinguished — 'when you dispose of something burning, be sure it's out' — Albarn's keyboards spray synth fusillades up top, over, and under... splicing into the mess of wires running between the freaked Afro-disco of William Onyeabor and the space-jazz-moog of Sun Ra. The HBE brings extra intensity and drama to Leave-Taking — likewise Flea's trumpet to Rotary Connection — teasing out the haunting melody coiled in the mix.
Where the best of vintage Afrobeat sides sustained their concentrated energies over the course of sprawling, marathon jams, RJ & TM manages something altogether different: the group bottles the idiom into capsules of funk... and real songs. Beautifully buoyed by Erykah Badu's unmistakable vocals, Hey, Shooter brilliantly traverses metaphysical spaceways sans any semblance of noodling. Lolo and Follow-Fashion — featuring the open-hearted sensuality of Diawara's singing, M.anifest's quick, brawny science, and more brass blasts — play like its musical cousins or codas. Indeed, the album's shrewd sequencing creates the composite effect of tracks working both individually or within the context of an extended song-cycle.
The lovely ballad, Poison, is bittersweet and ruminative: 'If you're looking for love, beware the signs / They will paralyze you one by one / Poison, it will only break your heart.' Down-tempo and dubby, Check Out and Worries amplify the range of styles and moods. And by the time of Fatherless — a chugging Afro blues that evokes John Lee Hooker lost in Lagos, one gets the sneaking suspicion there's very little outside the reach of this collective's inventive musical grasp.
There is, in fact, a palpable openness pervading Rocket Juice & The Moon — the sense of a limber willingness to follow creative impulse — right down to how the group acquired its name. When Ogunajo Ademola — the Lagotian commissioned to do the album's cover artwork — dubbed his submission 'Rocket Juice & The Moon', it quickly morphed into the formal name of the project, like trying to hold onto mercury.
Surely, the stars above also approved.

Second release on iS Records, The A-side, The Future Never Was combines sparse beats and pads held together by a growling stuttered bass, which gives the track an industrial feel but on a techno/house tip. On the flip, Fake The Feeling, draws on sounds beyond the current trend for vintage analogue in an original take on the house blueprint. The B2 track Out of Orbit is 4 minutes 48 seconds of Tech soul, for the floor or the headphones.

One can hardly imagine the genre-busting, culture-crossing musical magic of Outkast, Prince, Erykah Badu, Rick James, The Roots, or even the early Red Hot Chili Peppers without the influence of R&B pioneer Betty Davis. Her style of raw and revelatory punk-funk defies any notions that women can’t be visionaries in the worlds of rock and pop. In recent years, rappers from Ice Cube to Talib Kweli to Ludacris have rhymed over her intensely strong but sensual music.



There is one testimonial about Betty Davis that is universal: she was a woman ahead of her time. In our contemporary moment, this may not be as self-evident as it was thirty years ago – we live in an age that’s been profoundly changed by flamboyant flaunting of female sexuality: from Parlet to Madonna, Lil Kim to Kelis. Yet, back in 1973 when Betty Davis first showed up in her silver go-go boots, dazzling smile and towering Afro, who could you possibly have compared her to? Marva Whitney had the voice but not the independence. Labelle wouldn’t get sexy with their “Lady Marmalade” for another year while Millie Jackson wasn’t Feelin’ Bitchy until 1977. Even Tina Turner, the most obvious predecessor to Betty’s fierce style wasn’t completely out of Ike’s shadow until later in the decade.



Ms. Davis’s unique story, still sadly mostly unknown, is unlike any other in popular music. Betty wrote the song “Uptown” for the Chambers Brothers before marrying Miles Davis in the late ’60s, influencing him with psychedelic rock, and introducing him to Jimi Hendrix — personally inspiring the classic album Bitches Brew.



But her songwriting ability was way ahead of its time as well. Betty not only wrote every song she ever recorded and produced every album after her first, but the young woman penned the tunes that got The Commodores signed to Motown. The Detroit label soon came calling, pitching a Motown songwriting deal, which Betty turned down. Motown wanted to own everything. Heading to the UK, Marc Bolan of T. Rex urged the creative dynamo to start writing for herself. A common thread throughout Betty’s career would be her unbending Do-It-Yourself ethic, which made her quickly turn down anyone who didn’t fit with the vision. She would eventually say no to Eric Clapton as her album producer, seeing him as too banal.



Her 1974 sophomore album They Say I’m Different features a worthy-of-framing futuristic cover challenging David Bowie’s science fiction funk with real rocking soul-fire, kicked off with the savagely sexual “Shoo-B-Doop and Cop Him” (later sampled by Ice Cube). Her follow up is full of classic cuts like “Don’t Call Her No Tramp” and the hilarious, hard, deep funk of “He Was A Big Freak.”