Suche:jack patern

4 underwater trippers extracted from another planet featuring Konsistent, Second Life, Jack Patern & Andy Rantzen.

"Amazing! Like stumbling on a treasure-trove of unheard Charlie Patton and Blind Willie McTell 78s, but imbued with the spirit of Mahlathini and Ladysmith." Joe Boyd

'But for this compilation of rescued songs masterfully restored from rare 78 rpm shellacs, few could imagine the diversely beautiful roots of Zulu Guitar Music emerging during the period 1950 – 1965. Story-tellers and master musicians appropriate outlaw personae, re-purpose country and western, Hawaiian and other styles, to stretch and challenge our notion of “the Zulu guitar”.

Twenty-five songs (18 on vinyl) plunge us into the depths of the migrant experience. Translations in the liner notes offer us glimpses of pugnacity, melancholy and heartache, all coloured by the paternalism that circumscribed the singers’ apartheid-dominated lives.

The early *mbaqanga* undertow in many of the songs subverts the wanderlust of Country and Western music into a fugitivity burdened by nostalgia. Something irretrievable has been lost, prompting a blending of ideas and cultures to make sense through thankless acts of musical divination. Inadvertently they have been thrust into the role of the antihero, where outwitting competition for lovers is as important as evading the Black Jacks (apartheid’s municipal cops) and their informants.

Considering the politically repressive period that this music emerges from, we can surmise that the specificity in the storytelling went a long way towards evading censure. But even when words are absent, there is a narrative arc suggested by the musical expression.

With most of the master tapes wilfully destroyed or lost, modern transcription and restoration techniques from the original shellac discs present the original sound most likely more clearly than ever heard before.'

Produced for reissue by Chris Albertyn and Matt Temple at Matsuli Music and Siemon Allen at Flatinternational.
Artwork design by Siemon Allen.
Liner note and translations by Kwanele Sosibo.
Audio restoration and lacquers by Frank Merritt at The Carvery and pressed at Pallas, Germany.
Original 78rpm recordings sourced from the collections of Chris Albertyn at Matsuli Music, and Siemon Allen at the Flatinternational Archive.

An aura of mystery hangs over Jacky Giordano, a studio musician who has mostly worked for library music.He is the one behind the amazing label Freesound (Schifter, Philopsis, Challenger), but as well on Montparnasse 2000 with Pop in Devil's Train (reissued on Le Tres Groove Club), on Timing (Timing N?1 and Timing N?5, under the nickname Jacky Nodaro), on Musax with Boucles Rythmiques (under the nickname Joachim Sherylee, reissued as well on Le Tres Groove Club) or Black Devil Disco Club whose paternity for this record is still disputed between him and Bernard Fevre. Jacky Giordano wasn't an altar boy, far from it, and will have sadly been more known for his troubles with justice than for his music.This is his work for the label l'Illustration Musicale (IM) which can now be rediscovered thanks to this new reissue on Le Tres Groove Club.Organ Plus (IM26) is the sequel to Organ (IM 24), also reissued by Le Tres Groove Club. The title is misleading here, an organ not being preponderant part of the record which honours the Fender Rhodes, string machine, bass synth and clavinet. 'Be Careful', 'Riffologic', 'Twillight' : Jacky Giordano offers slow tempo jazz-funk, without losing his melancholy and low-fi groove that make his tracks immediately recognisable regardless the record label or nickname.

Richard Pryor contained multitudes, each fully inhabited character funnier and more
insightful than the last, so it’s no wonder when he took the stage at The Comedy Store in
Hollywood in 1973, it’d be a full 15 minutes before he spoke to the adoring audience as
himself. No, he needed to start where he started, on the streetcorner, with all the wit,
wisdom, and general jackassery of Wino & Junkie. Throughout a set full of hard jokes and
detailed character sketches (including the men of the Saturday night police lineup in his
hometown of Preoria, Illinois—the first and riskiest stage he knew), the audience has the
chance to get caught up in the silliness so inherent to Pryor while never losing sight of the
issues America had yet to face (and hasn’t still). There are sex jokes that hit so hard the
women in the audience take an audible refractory period, drug advice that has you weighing
the relative trip-laden merits of dope and acid, and a call-and-response on sandwiches that
proves the irresistibility of zealous Black midwestern preachers; there’s a litany of celebrities
whose names and projects have blurred in Pryor’s mind, but whose faces and friendship so
clearly light him up; there’s even fighting advice (don’t fight Italians, their mothers get
involved, and try to avoid a paternal cowboy whuppin’, because no one wants to get hit with
a chair). And then you get hit with the hardest punch: Pryor reaching out from 50 years past
to make the truth plain. You never hear about civilians accidentally killing cops, so why is it
that cops are always “accidentally” killing Black men? As it turns out, 1973 and 2023 aren’t so
far apart that the legendary Richard Pryor can’t bridge the gap.