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As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

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Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

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Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

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Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

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"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

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Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

Big Acid hard Techno EP bringing some Rave remixes...
A Massive 4rth release on JKS autoproduction's label !

ENJOY !

How many forms can a drum break take across the course of one EP? Needing little introduction are TIN mainstays Frankel & Harper who, with the help of Bakey, help us get to an answer. Buffalo Skank EP is a celebration of breakbeat. Whilst proving the duo's prowess in rhythmic variety, there is an emphasis on fun as they form complex drum patterns only for them to be chopped and screwed into myriad formations. At times, an Amen break is accompanied by blissed-out atmospherics borrowed from old school dnb ("Buffalo Skank"). At others, an unapologetic rhythm drives forward as if crushing anything in its way ("Oblivion"). On "Taz &" ricocheting snares evoke the music of junglist Sully before Bakey strips them entirely in favour
of a more minimal sound.

Dance music royalty Shadow Child serves up 4 future jungle anthems for Bristol label Time Is Now.

Brand new album from Robert. Vinyl is due in June from the factory.Its features Seaford Mods, Kool Keith, Rag N Bone Man , Atmosphere & Sonnyjim and has received radio support from Giles peterson & Huey Morgan.

Orphaned Land, eine der revolutionärsten Bands in der Geschichte der Heavy Music, sind eine unaufhaltsame Kraft. Gegründet 1991 in Israel, haben diese selbsternannten 'Oriental Metal'-Künstler die letzten 30 Jahre unermüdlich daran gearbeitet, ihre kreativen Bemühungen als Mittel zur Verbreitung einer positiven und friedlichen Botschaft zu nutzen. Im Laufe von sechs konzeptionell tiefgründigen und musikalisch genialen Alben ist die Band ihrem Wort treu geblieben und hat Fans im gesamten Nahen Osten und darüber hinaus vereint, unabhängig von Nation, Aussehen oder Glauben. Orphaned Lands fünftes Studioalbum 'All Is One' - ursprünglich 2013 veröffentlicht - wird als Gatefold-180g-Doppel-LP mit einem erweiterten Booklet erhältlich sein, das von Frontmann Kobi Farhi selbst verfasste Linernotes und zwei spezielle Bonussongs enthält.

Following the success of his label debut - the raucous 'Bun & Cheese' EP - Dudley bassline stalwart DJ Pantha - is back with a full-length LP. 'The 140 Archives' sees Pantha prove his prowess in harnessing a sound which captures the genre in its antecedents whilst resembling something altogether new. Funky rhythms and rude melodies energise the first two tracks before the half-time 'Vibez' represents a slightly darker, more contemplative take. Elsewhere, Grime's influence lives through 'Four By Niche' and the title, claps and chopped choral vocals of 'Blackberry Riddim', whilst the gunshot-happy 'Emmerdale' and 'Protein Shake' represent bassline at its most playful.

"Here’s a star in the making, a brilliant instrumentalist, an inventive singer and an assured performer who can draw the audience into the palm of his hand"
Tim Cumming, The Arts Desk, January 2022

“…can’t think of one who radiates so much heart and joy as Abel Selaocoe... winningly combines his cello with throat singing, improvising, exhorting the audience to shout or clap, and treating his body as a percussion instrument."
Geoff Brown, The Times, August 2021

Released on 180m gram RED vinyl. As Beatlemania approached its peak, Jamaican music was undergoing a transition that started with ska, and then morphed into rocksteady, before assuming its ultimate form as reggae. Inevitably these cultures collided, with artists such as the Paragons and Marcia Griffiths establishing a tradition of creating dynamic reggae covers of the Beatles hits that continues to this day. This album extends this lineage, as some of the best reggae Reggae artists set out on a series of version excursions that include some of the Fab Four’s best loved bitter-sweet cuts.

Second album in less than a year from the prolific William Dorey. Includes the singles ‘Another Day, ‘Behind The Sun’ and ‘Losing My mind’. CD packaging is gatefold with choice of 5 inserts to ‘choose your own cover’. Building on the success of 2018’s ‘Filoxiny’ (listed as one of Q Magazine’s ‘354 Albums to Blow Your Mind’) and this year’s ‘Umoja’ (“a pleasure to listen to from start to finish” – Songlines magazine) – both of whose singles have peppered the playlists of BBC 6 Music and have lead to his helming of a Bandcamp takeover - Skinshape returns with the witheringly, prophetically titled ‘Arrogance is the Death of Men’. Written and recorded between November 2019 and July 2020, Skinshape bids torecreate something akin to the ‘old style’ of ‘Oracolo’ (2015) and ‘Life & Love’ (2017). With ‘Arrogance…’, Will Dorey’s blueprint points to a simple formula, aligning a bank of fresh drum breaks recorded at the end of 2019 to whatever he had to hand, for a long player recorded in the majority at home due to the COVID-19 lockdown. Forever balanced between sweetness and a sigh, as per his position ‘Behind the Sun’, the Skinshape essence, intricate yet always reachable, at times tailored in a single session and sourcing archive bric-a-brac when required, is all around on the sweetly strummed ‘Tomorrow’ and ‘The Eastern Connection’, featuring Ivan Kormanak on drums. Maintaining an incisive knowledge of global sounds that keeps him in the filmic company of Khruangbin and El Michels Affair, Dorey’s listening to vintage Vietnamese music and Asian film scores provides the basis of ‘Sound of Your Voice’ and ‘Flight of the Erhu’, starring Wan Pinchu on Erhu violin. Acutely aware of the world’s ongoing health crisis without preaching about the whys and wherefores, the title track and ‘Losing My Mind’ reflect enforced confinement as tranquil songs of both quiet consideration yet powerful release. Dorey’s guitar pieces and wraith-like soul continue to flicker with fascination as Indian Summers and fireside retreats beckon, with ‘Watching From The Shadows’ - about “standing up for yourself, and avoiding the limelight for your own good”– and ‘Outro’ gently bringing the album to rest.

Though Beauty is Useless is only his second solo record, James Devane has been producing and performing music for over two decades, both in isolation and collaboratively (most notably as his duo "En" with Maxwell August Croy). While his first record (s/t on Bremsstrahlung) explored digital manipulation of guitar based loops, Beauty finds Devane replacing the computer processing and aural landscape projection for a couple vintage keyboards, modular based effects and most notably a drum machine. Evoking elements of German minimal techno, Beauty is a rich, focused discovery of process and restraint where less is refreshingly more.

Screaming suburban blues straight from the pages of HeartattaCk magazine, Current exploded out of the early-’90s Midwestern emo scene in a fit of D.C. hardcore-inspired rage. Spread across three LPs, Yesterday’s Tomorrow Is Not Today compiles the quartet’s lone album, two EPs, split 7”s with Indian Summer and Chino Horde, miscellaneous compilation debris, and nine previously unissued alternates, including the infamous KLXU radio show. Remixed and mastered from the original tapes, Current’s complete discography is annotated in Leor Galil’s exhaustive survey, illustrated with period photos, flyers, and cut-n-paste sleeve art across 24 pages.

At the centre of the project 'Iboja's Songs' sings 99-year-old Iboja Wandall-Holm.who unfolds her unrivalled inventory of childhood memories and unique treasures of songs. Iboja has collected these and brought them from her childhood in Eastern Europe. She later translated them into Danish.

The album appears as a musical encounter. An encounter where Iboja's memories and songs are put in a new light by Danish musician Mikkel Hess and other members of the band Hess Is More, in collaboration with co-producer Kenneth Bager.

Even at her advanced age, Iboja sings with a beautiful timbre that miraculously encapsulates intimacy and the sense of travelling through history. Iboja has had a career as a journalist and writer. One therefore immediately senses her storytelling abilities both as a singer, but especially also as a writer. Iboja is in more than one sense the voice of the century. The singles 'Jeg Er Blevet Gammel' and 'Solen Går Ned Over Land' were the first two releases from this project's musical journey. They laid the groundwork for the release of 'Iboja's Songs' to flourish.

»Keskipäivän hetken sumea vaillinaisuus« collects new dark ambient & industrial leaning tracks by Finnish producer Ilpo Väisänen (Pan Sonic).

Presenting a brand new vinyl compilation featuring artists from the electic Funkiwala label – from Brasillian Afrobeat to Bengali Funk to Indo-Cuban-Nigerian Jazz to European Jazz Soul to traditional Baul Myticism - 3 newly released tracks by Phil Dawson, Cubafrobeat and Lokkhi Terra, with other tracks previously released digitally or on CD only - "if further proof were needed that London is a hotbed of cross-culturally inspired expression, it's new record label Funkiwala"Evening Standard

1. QUE BELEZA - Phil Dawson feat Nina Miranda and the +2s (Domenico, Moreno and Kassin)

A funky version of a Tim Maia classic from the legendary 'Racional' period. Guitarist Phil Dawson grooving with Brasillian musicians Moreno Veloso, Domenico Lancelotti and Kassin Alexandre (the +2s), vocalist Nina Miranda and co-producing with Marco Dalle Luche

2. ON A SUMMERS DAY - Archie the Goldfish -

A project co-led by trumpet player Graeme Flowers and guitarist Chris Bestwick. This track is a nod to the great Miles Davis electric albums of 50 years ago, taken from a 5-track EP "Water & Light' incorporating elements of jazz, drum & bass, funk and hip hop (released in 2021)

3. ENI AGEE - Cubafrobeat -

Formed out of the collaboration between London fusionistas LoKkhi TeRra ("probably the worlds best Cuban-Afrobeat-Bangladeshi group"Songlines) and UK's Afrobeat Ambassador Dele Sosimi ("A true legend"Clash), Cubafrobeat was initially the name of their critically acclaimed album from 2018 (" A total Stonking Blinder"All About Jazz). This has evolved naturally into an entirely new musical beast – and this is their first single.

4. HARMONIUZINHO - Lokkhi Terra

Taken from their debut CD album "No Visa Required" (2010), this is one of the tunes that put Lokkhi Terra on the map. Recorded in Kishon Khan's home studio the track captures the beginning of this London band's journey.

5. KANDE REVISITED - Lokkhi Terra

This a reworking of Lokkhi Terra's version of a classic Bangla Folk song written by Hason Raja. Maintaing the spirit of unique sound clashes, the track combines a typical London Afro Funkiness with the sublime Bengali vocals of Aneire Khan, Sohini Alam and Aanon Siddiqua. The original version was released on their 2012 CD album "Che Guava's Rickshaw Diaries".

6. NUORACLE - Justin Thurgur

Originally released as a digital single, this release from Justin Thurgur, composed in collaboration with Kishon Khan, is a Cuban Jazz track that features driving Timba bass lines and Afrobeat inflected horns and is a nod to the Nuyorican Latin Jazz scene of the '50's, '60's and '70's, which has been a big inspiration to them.

7. EU TOPO - Beiju

Beiju is the combined work of two unique practictioners: Firstly, Adma Macedo Newport from Salvador da Bahia, a singer who has integrated the great Afro-brazilian musical traditions of her native city with that of those she's lived in on her travels. Secondly, Phil Dawson, a London-based guitarist and music writer who has collaborated with many stylistic originators internationally, including those from all four corners of Africa. .

8. SHADHO KI RE AMAR - Shikor Bangladesh All Stars

Taken from their debut album "Soul of Bengal" - This Folk super group is made up of legendary session musicians from Bangladesh. This track features the late great Baul Rob Fakir and is written by the great mystic, Baul Lalon Shah, whose songs are still be found throughout the Bengal today.

Born October 1966. Break Dancer in 1984, under the moniker Mad Max, started a crew named the Back Street Warriors, Busking all over the UK at places such as Covent Garden/Leicester Square Performing on stage & in clubs. They once jammed with the Rock Steady Crew in Camden Palace in front of an audience.

Then in 1987 he became a DJ, playing all genres of music, he first played on
RJR Radio, playing Electro, Hip Hop, Soul, R&B & Reggae. Moving forward he started playing Acid House & Four to the Floor Music styles, by the early 90s he played on Weekend Rush and then went onto Defection, Touchdown, Don & Passion FM, playing Acid & Hardcore Jungle.

In the early days MixMaster Max was one of the Innovators of Jungle music by mixing Hardcore, Reggae & Hip Hop together, helping others to produce, fuse & gain ideas in the music industry. He was by Far the most Original, Innovative, DJ anybody had ever heard.

In 1991 he played alongside John Saunderson at the Camden Palace on a Friday night, he also played at the famous Hacienda club in Manchester.
He was the First DJ to create the Topsy Turvey, which is one turntable on top of the other, he came runner up in the DMC world championships in the early 90s.

He played at some of the Biggest Raves back in the day, Pirate club 93, Fantazia 92, Dungeons 91/92, Turnmills 92, to mention a few. He also played on Avenues FM & People's Choice, which were legal Radio Stations, not forgetting Kool fm & Centreforce.

He performed on stage with the We Papa Girl Rappers in 1990 at the Notting Hill Carnival. This Legendary Cult figure is a Master of the Nunchuckers & TurnTables!
His innovative Mixes were ‘legendary’ he was a pioneer precursor to the Art form known as Jungle Music, not to mention his Scratching abilities, which was ‘extraordinary’!

For those that listened to pirate radio back in the day, he was the legendary cult
figure that inspired us all, giving us the freshest musical styles that had never been heard before!

Philadelphia's Sweet Pill write eruptive emo songs that embrace the
edges of pop and hardcore
The kind of band whose members are fully immersed in their local scene-through
a handful of notable side projects and the show- promoting Philly staple 4333
Collective- the quintet's sound takes wide- spectrum influence from its
environment. The result is an amalgam of complex song structures and
flourishes of technical acumen, wholly unconcerned with genre, yet evoking the
specific styles of touchstones such as Paramore and Circa Survive.
On their debut longplayer Where the Heart Is, Sweet Pill's unbound, raucous
energy presents through ten autobiographical tracks that hinge on singer Zayna
Youssef's elastic, enrapturing voice- at times belting and controlled, at others
textural and guttural. Supporting Youssef are guitarists Jayce Williams and Sean
McCall, bassist Ryan Cullen, and drummer Chris Kearney. Their blistering lead
single "Blood" sees Youssef exploring a deteriorated friendship over Williams and
McCall's trudging riffs and tactful counterpoint, with Cullen and Kearney rumbling
nimbly in the song's foundations.
Second single "High Hopes" counters with introspective, melodic punk that
reshapes anxiety rather than succumb to it. But third single "Diamond Eyes"
momentarily slows the pace, with McCall joining Youssef on vocals for a breakup
lament laden with acoustic sentimentalism and an emotive flurry from guest
flutist Jill Ryan. Such range is the central facet of Where the Heart Is, where
Sweet Pill's penchant for combining punkish tropes enlivened with the vibrance of
math- rock and the aggression of post- hardcore sweetened with pop sensibility
compound into something stylistically new yet still familiar. Pressed on 180-gram
Red color vinyl