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"Chance animates the smallest parts of the universe: the scintillation of the stars is its power, a wildflower its incantation."
—Georges Bataille, Le Petit

"Even on my way to the gambling hall, as soon as I hear, two rooms away, the clink of the scattered money I almost go into convulsions." —Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Gambler

Video gambling addicts, academic researchers, and industry professionals alike describe the trancelike state into which problem gamblers suspend themselves with remarkable consistency: they unanimously call it the machine “zone,” a kind of inner experience during which the rhythmic flow of human-machine collusion borders on mysticism. Time is abolished in the act of contemporary video gambling —simulated slot reels roll, virtual poker decks deal, and all worldly concerns are lost—leaving only the aura of total zone immersion in its wake. Sometimes characterized as the crack cocaine of gambling, the intensity of the machine zone is a symptom of casino ergonomics: emotionally manipulative fragrance-saturation, mesmerizing lights, subtly controlling walkways and, as captured here, meticulously engineered sonic environments all play a role in evoking the timeless void of the zone.

Although I was not yet aware of the extent to which casinos tailor their environments for maximum comfort (and, correspondingly, profit), I did know as I crossed the threshold of my first casino floor last year that I would be back for more. Hit by a cornucopia of slot machine tones, triggering aleatorically and coalescing into shimmering masses, I was struck by the need to return and record the sounds that so entranced me. It wouldn't prove to be easy—casino security is intense—and due to the clandestine nature of the operation, my recording techniques were by no means sophisticated. Equipped with nothing but an Olympus LS-11 recorder's internal microphone stashed in a sweaty coat pocket, I allowed the lure of the zone to guide me through a series of ambling recording sessions, the best of which are included here.

I learned a lot about casino sonics in the process: game designers, for example, once tuned all their machines to the key of C major in order to optimize harmonic cohesion (strict adherence to the key is no more but C still dominates the game floor); one team of designers, the story goes, even spent a month perfecting a single 'ding' sound on one machine. In the interest of preserving the true ambient sounds of the casino these recordings are untreated, but lost in the sea of chance I did exert some affirmative control by means of meandering intent and my actual playing of the machines. And by participating in the games myself I got a taste of the financially debilitating consequences that accompany the enchantment of video gambling. The cassette in your hands represents my endeavor to bring you the zone experience without the harsh comedown of its unfortunate reality.

—Adrian Rew

A collection of spellbinding, melismatic vocal improvisations taken from 78s cut between the mid 1920s to mid '30s - a period defined by the aftermath of the Ottoman Empire’s partition, the Greco-Turkish War and the compulsory population exchange that followed.

This same period also represented a time of intense efforts, following the establishment of the Republic, to westernise the new nation's music - coupled with a ban on traditional music education in schools, and later a complete ban on broadcasting Ottoman-Turkish classical music on the radio. As such these performances seem shrouded in an even more distant past, and feel quite intimately connected with forms of Greek amanes and rebetiko - having stemmed from the same Ottoman makam system, both with a subject-matter focussed on heartbreak, yearning, and pain.

A collection of spellbinding, melismatic vocal improvisations taken from 78s cut between the mid 1920s to mid '30s - a period defined by the aftermath of the Ottoman Empire’s partition, the Greco-Turkish War and the compulsory population exchange that followed.

This same period also represented a time of intense efforts, following the establishment of the Republic, to westernise the new nation's music - coupled with a ban on traditional music education in schools, and later a complete ban on broadcasting Ottoman-Turkish classical music on the radio. As such these performances seem shrouded in an even more distant past, and feel quite intimately connected with forms of Greek amanes and rebetiko - having stemmed from the same Ottoman makam system, both with a subject-matter focussed on heartbreak, yearning, and pain.

Death Is Not The End issue a 14-track tape of vintage and archival Cajun ft. tracks from Segura Brothers, Amede Ardoin, Blind Uncle Gaspard, Sydney Landry & more.

DINTE present a 14-track tape pulling together rural Greek demotika recordings from the late 1930s to the mid-1950s. Soaring pentatonic improvisations, odd-metered rhythms, and vocal performances oscillate between heartbreaking laments and ecstatic celebrations.

Artwork adapted from Edward Lear's Agia Paraskevi, Epirus, Greece (1857)

Death Is Not The End collaborate with Uzbek label Maqom Soul to deliver an LP counterpart to last year's mixtape of the same title, compiling specially picked & fully licensed individual belters from the ex-soviet studios of Central Asian republics between 1978 and 1989 - incl. Uzbek, Tajik, Kurdish & Uyghur artists pulling traditional folk motifs together with pop & rock and psych elements.

"These recordings do not form a smooth or coherent history. They feel more like a sequence of discoveries made at different moments and in different circumstances. Songs and instrumental pieces that once lived inside specific contexts radio broadcasts, philharmonic programs, touring routes now sit side by side, revealing hidden connections as well as clear fractures between them.

Nasiba Abdullaeva appears here as a voice from the end of an era. Trained within a conservatory system, she worked inside the format of the Soviet pop song while filling it with melodic logic that did not come from Moscow or Leningrad. Her voice is soft and sustained, shaped by Eastern melisma, and it never functions as decoration. Even in tightly structured songs there is a sense of resistance, an effort to preserve a musical language rooted in Uzbek tradition rather than fully adapted to an all Union standard.

The ensemble Sintez, later renamed Navo, represents a different path. Beginning as a student rock group, the band was gradually absorbed into the official VIA system with all its limitations and compromises. Yet it was precisely within those boundaries that Sintez and Navo developed a recognizable sound. Electric guitars and jazz rock harmonies do not overpower the folk material but remain in tension with it. Their recordings feel like negotiations between what the musicians wanted to play and what they were allowed to perform.

The Tajik ensemble Gulshan reflects an institutional approach carried to a high professional level. Formed under television and radio structures, the group treated folk material almost as a written score. Carefully constructed arrangements, close attention to orchestration, and restrained use of pop techniques define their sound. There is less spontaneity here, but a strong sense of discipline and structure, where national melody becomes part of a carefully controlled sonic framework.

Koma Wetan occupies a very different space. Formed in the 1970s, this Kurdish rock group approached poetry and folklore as tools of cultural assertion. Their psychedelic rock never feels like a stylistic borrowing. Instead it functions as a contemporary vessel for language and themes that might otherwise have remained unheard. Even today these recordings sound fragile and stubborn at the same time.

The Uyghur ensemble Yashlik, closely connected to a musical drama theatre, operated somewhere between stage performance and popular music. Their songs are built on folk melodies but shaped for wide audiences. What emerges is a constant attempt to preserve the recognizability of Uyghur musical identity without freezing it in a folkloric frame. Yashlik's music exists in a state of balance between representation and development.

Digging Central Asia does not attempt to establish hierarchies or offer a single wayof listening. Names and dates matter less than the sound itself. Tape noise, abrupt transitions, and unexpected timbres remain part of the material rather than flaws to be corrected. This music existed at the crossroads of multiple routes geographic, cultural, and ideological. Heard today in a new context, it no longer feels peripheral. Instead it stands as a reminder that the history of popular music is far more fragmented, layered, and polyphonic than it is usually allowed to be."

Death Is Not The End present a further volume of Arja Kastinen's eerie amalgamations of 110 year old wax cylinders with her own meticulously transcribed takes, this time focussing in on Armas Otto Väisänen's field recordings of kantele player Iivana Mišukka (b. 1861 d.1919).

"Ivana Mišukka (1861–1919) was one of the Karelian kantele players recorded by the folk music researcher Armas Otto Väisänen on wax cylinders in 1916 and 1917. In the early 20th century, the remote areas of Border Karelia were undergoing the final phase of a transformation in musical culture, with the ancient runo song tradition giving way to newer forms of music. This transition is reflected in Mišukka's repertoire and choice of instrument. The ancient small kantele, hollowed out of a single piece of wood, was already rare at the turn of the century. Mišukka's kantele was a new type of instrument with 26 strings, constructed of several parts, but he played it using the traditional plucking technique. Like other Border Karelian kantele players, his repertoire consisted of music rooted in runosong culture, as well as newer dances and songs from the east and west. Most of the recorded material falls into the latter category.

Ivan Bogdanov Mišukka was born out of wedlock in Suursara village, Suistamo, on 1 May 1861. He began playing the kantele at the age of five or six, quickly mastering the instrument. In adulthood, he was considered one of the area's best master players. Mišukka was landless for most of his life and lived in different parts of the Suistamo parish. His first wife, Tekla Markintytär, died in 1897 at the age of 40, and his second wife, Jevdokia Filipintytär Jeminen, died in 1907 at the age of 50. Seven children were born from the first marriage, two of whom died young. The third wife, Maria Ignatintytär Gurnan (Kuurnanen), was a well-known master of lamentations. Together with Maria, Iivana Mišukka worked as a tenant farmer in the village of Suursara. Mišukka suffered from rheumatism, which prevented him from participating in physical work like Maria. This was apparently partly the reason why Iivana Mišukka went to earn extra money by playing the kantele on gig trips. He often had other traditional artists from Suistamo as his travelling companions, such as the runosingers Konstantin Kuokka and Iivana Onoila. Iivana Mišukka died in Leppäsyrjä village, Suistamo, on 18 May 1919 at the age of 58, and his kantele was donated to Teppana Jänis.

Mišukka only used 14 of the 26 strings on his kantele, playing the same tunes either a fourth higher or lower. He tuned his kantele to the major scale using fifths, except for a low seventh scale degree on the upper strings, but not below the fundamental. Since he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all, he could use the major scale both lower and a fourth higher with this tuning. According to Mišukka, the sound of higher, or 'finer', strings is 'more beautiful', while that of lower ones is 'greater'. Among runosingers, the size of the thirds varied, ranging from major to minor to neutral. A similar phenomenon can be observed in kantele tunings, where the third, sixth and seventh scale degrees vary in a comparable way.

During a meeting, Väisänen suggested that Mišukka play the smaller kantele belonging to Konstantin Kuokka. The idea was to bring it closer to the horn to improve the recording quality. However, the kantele was completely out of tune, and now Mišukka tuned it to the Lydian scale (track 18).

Using the old plucking technique, Mišukka placed his right middle finger on the fundamental tone, his right index finger on the second scale degree, his left middle finger on the third scale degree and his left index finger on the fourth scale degree, and his right thumb on the fifth. The thumb also played the notes above the fifth note of the scale. As Mišukka remarked to Väisänen: 'Peigaloll' tuloo enemb ruadoa' (the thumb has to do more work). However, he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all. Below the fundamental note, he played the seventh and sixth notes of the scale with his right middle finger of and the fifth note of the scale with his right ring finger. This fifth scale degree below the fundamental is almost always used as a drone. Sometimes, when the melody required it, Mišukka, like other players, also varied the fingering. He would also occasionally strike the same string with the side of his fingernail after plucking it.

The wax cylinder recordings of Karelian kantele players are kept in the archives of the Finnish Literature Society in Helsinki, Finland. Copies were made of them onto reel-to-reel tapes in both the 1960s and 1980s. The 1960s copies are mono and the 1980s copies are stereo. However, not all kantele recordings from these decades have survived.

The sound of the kantele is difficult to hear in wax cylinder recordings due to its low volume, and it occasionally becomes completely obscured by noise. During the copying process, the cylinder sometimes rotates unevenly, resulting in breaks or jumps in the music. Additionally, the rotation speed of the cylinder in the copies does not correspond to the performance speed of the original music, which alters the pitch. However, since Väisänen's precise notes are available in the archive, it is possible to deduce the melodies, their speed, and the tuning level of the kantele in the recordings. Of the copies of the original recordings from the 1960s and 1980s, I have selected the one that best met the requirements of this publication and adjusted the speed of the recording to align with Väisänen's notes. To enhance the listening experience, I have replayed the songs, which now partly overlap the old recordings on this release."

— Arja Kastinen

Death Is Not The End present a further volume of Arja Kastinen's eerie amalgamations of 110 year old wax cylinders with her own meticulously transcribed takes, this time focussing in on Armas Otto Väisänen's field recordings of kantele player Iivana Mišukka (b. 1861 d.1919).

"Ivana Mišukka (1861–1919) was one of the Karelian kantele players recorded by the folk music researcher Armas Otto Väisänen on wax cylinders in 1916 and 1917. In the early 20th century, the remote areas of Border Karelia were undergoing the final phase of a transformation in musical culture, with the ancient runo song tradition giving way to newer forms of music. This transition is reflected in Mišukka's repertoire and choice of instrument. The ancient small kantele, hollowed out of a single piece of wood, was already rare at the turn of the century. Mišukka's kantele was a new type of instrument with 26 strings, constructed of several parts, but he played it using the traditional plucking technique. Like other Border Karelian kantele players, his repertoire consisted of music rooted in runosong culture, as well as newer dances and songs from the east and west. Most of the recorded material falls into the latter category.

Ivan Bogdanov Mišukka was born out of wedlock in Suursara village, Suistamo, on 1 May 1861. He began playing the kantele at the age of five or six, quickly mastering the instrument. In adulthood, he was considered one of the area's best master players. Mišukka was landless for most of his life and lived in different parts of the Suistamo parish. His first wife, Tekla Markintytär, died in 1897 at the age of 40, and his second wife, Jevdokia Filipintytär Jeminen, died in 1907 at the age of 50. Seven children were born from the first marriage, two of whom died young. The third wife, Maria Ignatintytär Gurnan (Kuurnanen), was a well-known master of lamentations. Together with Maria, Iivana Mišukka worked as a tenant farmer in the village of Suursara. Mišukka suffered from rheumatism, which prevented him from participating in physical work like Maria. This was apparently partly the reason why Iivana Mišukka went to earn extra money by playing the kantele on gig trips. He often had other traditional artists from Suistamo as his travelling companions, such as the runosingers Konstantin Kuokka and Iivana Onoila. Iivana Mišukka died in Leppäsyrjä village, Suistamo, on 18 May 1919 at the age of 58, and his kantele was donated to Teppana Jänis.

Mišukka only used 14 of the 26 strings on his kantele, playing the same tunes either a fourth higher or lower. He tuned his kantele to the major scale using fifths, except for a low seventh scale degree on the upper strings, but not below the fundamental. Since he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all, he could use the major scale both lower and a fourth higher with this tuning. According to Mišukka, the sound of higher, or 'finer', strings is 'more beautiful', while that of lower ones is 'greater'. Among runosingers, the size of the thirds varied, ranging from major to minor to neutral. A similar phenomenon can be observed in kantele tunings, where the third, sixth and seventh scale degrees vary in a comparable way.

During a meeting, Väisänen suggested that Mišukka play the smaller kantele belonging to Konstantin Kuokka. The idea was to bring it closer to the horn to improve the recording quality. However, the kantele was completely out of tune, and now Mišukka tuned it to the Lydian scale (track 18).

Using the old plucking technique, Mišukka placed his right middle finger on the fundamental tone, his right index finger on the second scale degree, his left middle finger on the third scale degree and his left index finger on the fourth scale degree, and his right thumb on the fifth. The thumb also played the notes above the fifth note of the scale. As Mišukka remarked to Väisänen: 'Peigaloll' tuloo enemb ruadoa' (the thumb has to do more work). However, he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all. Below the fundamental note, he played the seventh and sixth notes of the scale with his right middle finger of and the fifth note of the scale with his right ring finger. This fifth scale degree below the fundamental is almost always used as a drone. Sometimes, when the melody required it, Mišukka, like other players, also varied the fingering. He would also occasionally strike the same string with the side of his fingernail after plucking it.

The wax cylinder recordings of Karelian kantele players are kept in the archives of the Finnish Literature Society in Helsinki, Finland. Copies were made of them onto reel-to-reel tapes in both the 1960s and 1980s. The 1960s copies are mono and the 1980s copies are stereo. However, not all kantele recordings from these decades have survived.

The sound of the kantele is difficult to hear in wax cylinder recordings due to its low volume, and it occasionally becomes completely obscured by noise. During the copying process, the cylinder sometimes rotates unevenly, resulting in breaks or jumps in the music. Additionally, the rotation speed of the cylinder in the copies does not correspond to the performance speed of the original music, which alters the pitch. However, since Väisänen's precise notes are available in the archive, it is possible to deduce the melodies, their speed, and the tuning level of the kantele in the recordings. Of the copies of the original recordings from the 1960s and 1980s, I have selected the one that best met the requirements of this publication and adjusted the speed of the recording to align with Väisänen's notes. To enhance the listening experience, I have replayed the songs, which now partly overlap the old recordings on this release."

— Arja Kastinen

The definition of the word 'fado' is technically 'fate', though the Portuguese meaning bound up with this term is more complex. The music itself can be fairly closely compared with that of Greek rebetika - also the American blues or the original working-class tango music of Argentina and Uruguay - and similarly takes it's common subject matter from the various cruel realities of the world. Though perhaps what distinguishes fado in character is it's often poised acceptance of the pains of life rather than protestation or resistance - as writer Paul Vernon says "It speaks with a quiet dignity born of the realisation that any mortal desire or plan is at risk of destruction by powers beyond individual control"

Death Is Not The End compile here a spine-tingling collection of fado recordings, taken from records issued in the mid 1910s through to the 1930s. The fado's Lisbon and Coimbra variants are presented here by some of the music's earliest recorded stars - spanning a time period leading up to the emergence of the fado's all-conquering star, Amália Rodrigues.

Death Is Not The End reissue Mark Vernon's sought-after 2013 collection Sounds of a Modern Hospital on vinyl & cassette formats.

Whilst every effort has been made to record the subject in as great a degree of isolation as possible, the sound recordings you will hear on this record were made in a real working hospital and not under controlled conditions. Therefore, on occasion, you may hear some unavoidable background noise, conversations and other extraneous sounds.

All recordings were made by Mark Vernon at Forth Valley Royal Hospital, Larbert, Stirling Community Hospital and Falkirk Community Hospital between 2011 and 2013.

Death Is Not The End present a compilation gathering a cross-section of early gospel choirs and vocal harmony groups recorded between late 1920s and the mid-1950s - a period when spirituals & jubilee traditions merged with blues, jazz and early rhythm and blues, providing the musical routes for the coalescence of the civil rights movement born out of the black church. In the modern world these perennially vital recordings provide a fitting tonic for the near-dystopia we find ourselves living through.

Death Is Not The End reissue Mark Vernon's sought-after 2013 collection Sounds of a Modern Hospital on vinyl & cassette formats.

Whilst every effort has been made to record the subject in as great a degree of isolation as possible, the sound recordings you will hear on this record were made in a real working hospital and not under controlled conditions. Therefore, on occasion, you may hear some unavoidable background noise, conversations and other extraneous sounds.

All recordings were made by Mark Vernon at Forth Valley Royal Hospital, Larbert, Stirling Community Hospital and Falkirk Community Hospital between 2011 and 2013.

Death Is Not The End present a compilation gathering a cross-section of early gospel choirs and vocal harmony groups recorded between late 1920s and the mid-1950s - a period when spirituals & jubilee traditions merged with blues, jazz and early rhythm and blues, providing the musical routes for the coalescence of the civil rights movement born out of the black church. In the modern world these perennially vital recordings provide a fitting tonic for the near-dystopia we find ourselves living through.

After following Luke Blair's work for approaching two decades from his 2007 debut as Lukid on Actress' Werk Discs, we're humbled to present a new album on Death Is Not The End. Following relatively hot on the heels of 2023's Tilt (his first in 11 years, not counting his work with Jackson Bailey under the Rezzett guise) Underloop brings Blair's innate knack for building loops and sound structures further to the surface, while allowing his ear for emotional expression to be dialled up a notch. Those fortunate enough to be familiar with Lukid's work as a DJ will be aware of how distinct his ability is to seamlessly disappear into loop-based abstraction and back again seemingly without blinking, and often Underloop feels much like a collection of the sludgey interludes and foggy sketches that underpin his sets. Blending apparently ramshackle melodies and textures and pulling them together into an undeniable whole, Blair's tendency for pairing the simple and the indescribable with an understated vigour is fully on show here.

Written and produced by Luke Blair. Mastered by Giuseppe Ielasi.

DINTE's partnership with Philadelphia store/distro World Gone Mad yields three more essential cassette-only mixtapes exploring the global proliferation of the punk spirit - this time exploring 1980s French language post-punk and new wave in France, Belgium and Switzerland across the decade. This is part 2 of 3, focusing on 1984 to 1987.

DINTE's partnership with Philadelphia store/distro World Gone Mad yields three more essential cassette-only mixtapes exploring the global proliferation of the punk spirit - this time exploring 1980s French language post-punk and new wave in France, Belgium and Switzerland across the decade. This is part 1 of 3, focusing on 1988 to 1990.

Death Is Not The End turns 10 years old in May, and as part of the celebrations are committing a selection of DINTE NTS Radio shows from over the years to cassette. Kicking off with the recent special Skateland Soundtapes, 1980-1986 - comprising a selection of clips from sessions held at Halfway Tree, Kingston's most storied roller skating rink during the dancehall era's golden period of the early to mid/late 1980s.

Audio sourced with the indefatigable efforts of the Who Cork The Dance crew - big thanks going out to Jayman, Ruff House, Keimo, Omar, Gee Wizz and the one Jah Humble.

The second volume in Death Is Not The End's survey of a form of Brazilian country music known as música caipira ("hillbilly music") - a stripped-back forerunner to música sertaneja, the Brazilian equivalent to US country & western which in it's contemporary form has come to dominate the domestic music industry in recent decades. This collection covers some of the earliest recordings made by the pioneering folklorist Cornélio Pires at the end of the 1920s, through to records from the 30s, 40s & 50s and the beginning of the 60s.

Somewhat rooted in Portuguese troubadour folk traditions, música caipira is typically performed by a duo singing in parallel thirds and sixths, drawing upon a Portuguese-Brazilian style known as moda de viola - with the viola being the viola caipira, a Brazilian-style ten-string guitar that is the core instrument of the music. Born out of the "outback"-style region in north-eastern Brazil, these songs tell stories of pain, love, loss & betrayal - often backed by homemade guitars using invented tunings. Away from the polished pop country & western-stylings of the sertaneja, these recordings could be viewed as the Brazilian equivalent to the roots music of the American dustbowl or Appalachia.

Tragic Tiger's Sad Meltdown is Heavenly aka Tiger Hutchence-Geldof's debut album of sorts, cut from cassette tapes of rehearsals mixed with snippets of field recordings. Recorded with contributions from Nicholas Allbrook (Pond), Scarlett Stevens (San Cisco), India Rose & Jacob Diamond.

"I made this cassette in the living room of our house in Fremantle, a seaside town in Western Australia. I had always been shy to sing with others but moving across the world and my ex-boyfriend Nick had given me some bravery. Something about living closer to nature meant I felt creative and open hearted. It was as if the wide open landscape of Australia had finally given my heart enough space to open properly. The recordings are actually just recordings of our rehearsals, I never feel set in how song is meant to be so they usually just come out of me in the moment. My friends playing along with me are luckily all very empathic players and we found a way to play with one another without any structure or plan. It was really moving to create with so much freedom and understanding. Most of the songs are about my sister Peaches who I lost as a teenager so singing them aloud felt very potent but my band always made me feel held"

Fantastisches Album mit 12 Liedern der Begena-Musiker Tafese Tesfaye, Admassu Fikre, Seyoum Mengistu und Alemu Aga. ""Die Begena ist eines jener seltenen Musikinstrumente, das seit über 5800 Jahren existiert. Faszinierend an ihr ist nicht nur ihr Alter, sondern auch die Tatsache, dass sich ihre Herstellung und ihr Verwendungszweck über all die Jahre hinweg nicht verändert haben. ... Während des Derg-Regimes, nach dem Sturz von Kaiser Haile Selassie, wurde sie nicht mehr als wichtig erachtet. ... Aber besonders in den letzten 15-16 Jahren hat es eine Renaissance erlebt. Es gibt viele, meist junge Begena-Spieler, von denen ich über 500 Schüler unterrichtet habe. Es gibt auch Begena-Bauer, die das Instrument für neue Schüler bauen. Das Interessante an diesem Instrument ist, dass die Musik, der Klang, der aus diesem Instrument kommt, die besondere Kraft hat, Menschen zur Konzentration, zur Ruhe und zum Nachdenken zu bewegen. Das ist eine besondere Qualität. Man muss kein Äthiopier sein, jeder kann es hören, es wird ihn automatisch zur Ruhe und Konzentration anregen."" – Alemu Aga (aus einem Interview mit Pit Budde für den WDR, Köln, 2008)

DINTE's survey of folk music traditions in Northeastern Brazil, originally broadcast on NTS Radio in 2019, becomes the latest to be committed to cassette as part of their 10th anniversary series. It specifically focuses in on the spur-of-the-moment improvised "duelling" poetry of the repente, embolada & aboio styles that are unique to the Nordeste region.

A collection of stunning Persian-tuned piano pieces cut from Iranian national radio broadcasts made for the Golha programmes between 1956 & 1965...

Morteza Mahjubi (1900-1965) was a Iranian pianist & composer who developed a unique tuning system for the piano which enabled the instrument to be played in all the different modes and dastgahs of traditional Persian art music. Known as Piano-ye Sonnati, this technique allowed Mahjubi to express the unique ornamental and monophonic nature of Persian classical music on this western instrument - mimicking the tar, setar & santur and extracting sounds from the piano which are still unprecedented to this day.

An active performer and composer from a young age, Mahjubi made his most notable mark as key contributor and soloist for the Golha (Flowers of Persian Song and Poetry) radio programmes. These seminal broadcasts platformed an encyclopaedic wealth of traditional Persian classical music and poetry on Iranian national radio between 1956 until the revolution in 1979.

Presented here is a collection of Morteza Mahjoubi's stunningly virtuosic improvised pieces broadcast on Golha between the programme's inception until Mahjoubi's death in 1965 - mostly solo, though at times peppered with tombak, violin & some segments of poetry.

The vast collection of Golha radio programmes was put together thanks to the incredible work of Jane Lewisohn & the Golha Project as part of the British Library's Endangered Archives programme, comprising 1,578 radio programs consisting of approximately 847 hours of broadcasts.

The third volume in a survey of the modern jazz & hard-bop scenes that emerged in the new cultural melting pot of post war London, with recordings from the end of the 1940s through to the early 1960s.

Featuring representations from players whose roots lay in the East-End's jewish community alongside a wealth of talent of Caribbean and African descent playing and recording in post war London during this period.

Made in partnership with the Barbican to coincide with the exhibition Postwar Modern: New Art in Britain 1945-1965.credits

Limitierte Vinyl-Auflage des 2021er Tapes ""Brooklyn Pirates: Neighbourhoods In The Sky, 2014–2021"" (Death Is Not The End), einer Recherche in den Archiven des Radiomoderators David Goren aus Brooklyn, New York. Seit mehreren Jahren erforscht dieser die Piratensender-Community in NYC und produziert Sendungen & Podcasts für BBC World Service und KCRW. In jüngster Zeit katalogisiert Goren seine Streifzüge durch die lokalen Frequenzen mithilfe der Brooklyn Pirate Radio Sound Map (BPRSM) und spürt so den noch immer bestehenden Verbindungen zwischen nicht lizenziertem Rundfunk und der lokalen Nachbarschaftskultur Brooklyns im digitalen Zeitalter nach.

Vorliegende Sammlung vereint Cut-Up-Aufnahmen von wilden Soca-Jams, Kompas über Wahlnachrichten aus Grenada, haitianischen Traueranzeigen und Werbung für jamaikanische Patty-Shops und spirituelle Heiler – samt Sendungen türkischer, orthodoxer und sephardisch-jüdischer Piratensender. Die B-Seite deckt den Zeitraum von Mitte der 2010er bis Anfang 2021 ab und fängt insbesondere die einzigartig eigenwilligen und hyperlokalen Reaktionen der Brooklyn Pirates auf den globalen Zerfall der frühen 2020er Jahre ein – Coronavirus-Pandemie, George Floyd, Biden-Wahl, u.a. – und dient als wichtiges Dokument der Sozialgeschichte, das den Wert von DIY-Community-Sendungen in einer Zeit weltweiter Lockdowns und des völligen Zusammenbruchs der Politik demonstriert.

Tracklisting:

A collection of stunning Persian-tuned piano pieces cut from Iranian national radio broadcasts made for the Golha programmes between 1956 & 1965...

Morteza Mahjubi (1900-1965) was a Iranian pianist & composer who developed a unique tuning system for the piano which enabled the instrument to be played in all the different modes and dastgahs of traditional Persian art music. Known as Piano-ye Sonnati, this technique allowed Mahjubi to express the unique ornamental and monophonic nature of Persian classical music on this western instrument - mimicking the tar, setar & santur and extracting sounds from the piano which are still unprecedented to this day.

An active performer and composer from a young age, Mahjubi made his most notable mark as key contributor and soloist for the Golha (Flowers of Persian Song and Poetry) radio programmes. These seminal broadcasts platformed an encyclopaedic wealth of traditional Persian classical music and poetry on Iranian national radio between 1956 until the revolution in 1979.

Presented here is a collection of Morteza Mahjoubi's stunningly virtuosic improvised pieces broadcast on Golha between the programme's inception until Mahjoubi's death in 1965 - mostly solo, though at times peppered with tombak, violin & some segments of poetry.

The vast collection of Golha radio programmes was put together thanks to the incredible work of Jane Lewisohn & the Golha Project as part of the British Library's Endangered Archives programme, comprising 1,578 radio programs consisting of approximately 847 hours of broadcasts.

Somewhat of a companion piece to DINTE's If I Had a Pair of Wings compilations from a few years back, exploring a similar period in Jamaican-recorded music though this time focusing in on gospel, mento & nyabinghi-influenced R&B sounds from the 1950s & early 60s.

Anvar Kalandarov is a music archaeologist, musician and producer from Tashkent, Uzbekistan with a focus on unearthing rare and hard to find gems from across Central Asia. Last year he compiled Synthesizing the Silk Roads: Uzbek Disco, Tajik Folktronica, Uyghur Rock & Tatar Jazz, released in collaboration with Ostinato Records. He also runs his own label Maqom Soul Records. Digging Central Asia is a mixtape that journeys through the psychedelic landscapes of the Silk Road, featuring recordings recorded between the 1970s through to the early 1990s.

"It may surprise some that, after two decades of silent films, when Alam Ara broke the silence in 1931, it and every South Asian talkie that followed was what we in the West think of as a "musical." Music had been integral to the culture's staged drama going back to the Gupta Dynasty — sometime between the 4 th and 6 th Century CE. Since its inception, South Asian cinema drew heavily from Marathi, Parsi, and Bengali musical theatre and silent film screenings were often accompanied by live music to mimic a live staged experience.

When sound films arrived, actors with serious singing skills became the next wave of stars. Songs were performed live while shooting, with musicians hidden off-camera, to the side or sometimes even in trees. Playback singing — the practice of dubbing a real singer's voice over a lip-syncing actor — didn't become standard until the 1940s.

Thus, the biggest stars of the 1930s were also the greatest singers, with some, like Govindrao Tembe and Pankaj Mullick, excelling as both composers and vocalists. None, however, were more beloved than K.L. Saigal, whose emotional, untrained crooning captivated audiences across the subcontinent. Saigal's voice inspired a young Lata Mangeshkar, who vowed to become India's greatest filmi singer to win his heart. Sadly, Saigal grew increasingly addicted to alcohol, unable to perform without it, and passed away at age 42, seven months before the Partition. Lata never married.

This collection features some of the earliest songs from South Asian cinema, sourced from CDs and LPs found in Jackson Heights, Queens, Coney Island Avenue in Brooklyn, Lexington Avenue in Manhattan, and Oak Tree Road in Iselin, New Jersey — areas home to vibrant immigrant communities. South Asian immigration to New York and New Jersey surged after the 1965 Immigration and Nationality Act, which lifted non-European quotas. By the 1990s and 2000s, the region's Indian, Pakistani, and Bangladeshi media outlets flourished, especially in Jackson Heights, where such stores outnumbered the total number of regular record shops throughout the five boroughs.

The nascent period of sound film featured a limited palette of musical styles, predominantly Marathi Bhagveet, like the Ghazal, but with greater flexibility of subject matter and rhythm, and Rabindra Sangeet, the approximately 2,000 songs and poems composed by Bengali Nobel laureate Rabindranath Tagore. But there was some evolution as well, with the success of South Asian cinema's first woman composer, the classically trained Saraswati Devi, and the introduction of Western instruments including the piano and Hawaiian guitar.

While much of the music was dark and brooding, perhaps exemplified best by Devika Rani's interpretation of Saraswati Devi's "Udi Hawa Mein" from 1936's Achhut Kannya (Untouchable Maiden), there were moments of brightness, such as R.C. Boral's "Lachhmi Murat Daras Dikhaye" sung by Kanan Devi in Street Singer, an otherwise thoroughly depressing film from 1938 that cemented Devi's and co-star K.L. Saigal's superstardom.

This selection was chosen to emphasise a range of expressivity, instrumentation and style achieved even within the decade's relatively limited scope, setting the listener up for the relative explosion of possibility in the 1940s, to be covered in the next installment of this series."

Another cassette-only mixtape in Death Is Not The End's series in partnership with Philadelphia's World Gone Mad, this time surveying South American punk and post-punk between '81 & '90 - featuring bands from Colombia, Peru, Ecuador, Chile, Paraguay, Uruguay and Argentina.