Buscar:kinsman

Forest Green Vinyl

Seafood Sam is a futuristic artifact. If that description might sound confusing at first, it matches the eclectic dualities found in true originals. With his effortless cool and timeless style, the North Long Beach native defies convention and exact comparison. He's a virtuosic rapper, a stop-you-in-your tracks singer, and a symphonic producer. Welcome to the lavish life of a laid-back transcontinental man of mystery, rolling in old school Cadillacs, eating caviar with a blade in his pocket, and making plays in vintage Pelle Pelle gear. A blaxploitation icon for the Instagram age, blessed with the bars of a `90s legend and 23rd century swagger. Seafood Sam is a true hero of modernity. On his full-length album debut for up-and-coming label drink sum wtr (Kari Faux, Deem Spencer, Aja Monet) debut, Standing on Giant Shoulders, Sam splits the difference between Snoop Dogg and D' Angelo, Curren$y and David Ruffin. The songs reveal a forward-thinking sensibility rooted in ancestral soul. He creates spiritual hymns for the streets that tap into universal ideals and irrepressible groove. In an era plagued by short-term thinking, his ambitions reveal a crate-digging depth of music history and a meticulous ear for detail. The giant shoulders in the album's title refer to James Brown, Bobby Brown, and Miles Davis - the holy trinity who inspired Sam's process. From the Godfather of Soul, Sam took a perfectionist's rigor and focus. The example of Bobby Brown lent an unshakeable confidence and self-belief. While the constant artistic left turns of the trumpeter that birthed Ccool offered an aspirational archetype. The story starts in the glory days of Long Beach hip-hop. As a young child, the G-Funk era soundtracked rides in Sam's father's car. Some of his earliest memories are trying to memorize Snoop's verse on "Nuthin' But a "G" Thang." Beyond gangsta rap, the LBC has historically doubled as a capital of lowrider soul and carwash oldies. At any intersection, you could hear Dogg Food or Brenton Wood, Warren G or Barbara Lynn. This too was absorbed via osmosis. It also just so happened that the art of performance was always in Sam's blood. So at family functions, he and his sister supplied entertainment by singing karaoke renditions of The Isley Brothers. While his Harlem Shake remains a thing of local lore. Long Beach is a culturally diverse mecca of skate parks and gang life, street fashion and tricky dance moves. This is the place that raised Sam on a diet of Wu-Tang and Nelly Furtado, Lil Bow Wow and Allen Iverson. He was the middle ground between his two older brothers: one who gangbanged, the other who graduated with a master's degree from UC-Santa Barbara. But it wasn't until the end of high school that Sam started to take rap seriously. Alongside long-time collaborators like Huey Briss and Reaper Mook, Sam's name began to make waves on the northside of the city, but he was partially distracted by a modeling career that paid the bills and took him all to way to walk in Paris' fashion week. The first turning point arrived with 2018's "Ramsey," a self-produced, slick-talk anthem with over 10,000,000 streams across all platforms. With each subsequent release, Sam showcased his peerless consistency, building buzz both online and in the city streets. Spin hailed his "smooth and unhurried cadences and understated lyricism_ that sounds like nothing else in Long Beach." Clash raved about Sam's "evolution as an artist, cruising through nostalgic production with slick, witty rhymes." The culmination arrives with Standing on Giant Shoulders. It's the evidence of a master, a young sensei in the model of Quincy Jones. All rhymes, singing, production, and arrangements were handled by Sam - with an assist from his close Long Beach kinsman Tom Kendall from the group Soular System. It's hard-edged and lyrical enough for disciples of Larry June and Roc Marciano, but orchestral and melodic enough for fans of Anderson .Paak and H.E.R.

Lebanon oud master Rabih Abou-Khalil's stunning 1996 album 'Arabian
Waltz' is appearing here on vinyl for the first time."Arabian Waltz is the
pinnacle of Rabih Abou-Khalil's achievement as a composer and arranger
It is a sublime fusion of jazz, Middle Eastern traditional music, and Western
classical. In addition to Abou-Khalil on oud (the Arabic lute), Michel Godard on the
tuba and the serpent (the tuba's antique kinsman), and Nabil Khaiat on frame
drums, the album also features the Balanescu String Quartet instead of the usual
trumpet or sax. The presence of the Balanescu might seem to pose a dilemma
for the composer: traditional Middle Eastern music uses no harmony but a string
quartet is all about harmony. Abou- Khalil achieves a compromise by generally
writing the string parts in unison (or in octaves), in effect using the quartet as a
single voice, but also letting the quartet split up to play parts in unison with the
other instruments or to provide ornamentation. Without surrendering jazziness at
all, the presence of the strings makes possible a wondrous atmosphere, almost
as if one is listening to the soundtrack of a classy movie set in Beirut or
Damascus during the '40s. This feeling is greatest on "Dreams of a Dying City"
with its brooding tuba and cello motifs and grave, repeated rhythms. "The Pain
After" starts with an impressive tuba solo that turns into a long interlude for tuba
and string quartet; sad, slow music that sounds like one of Beethoven 's late
quartets. Then Abou- Khalil finally enters on oud, bringing a sustained note of
wistfulness. Fortunately, beside the darker numbers lie the propulsive drama of
"Arabian Waltz" and the bobbing and weaving quirkiness of "Ornette Never
Sleeps." Abou- Khalil is known for experimenting with the possibilities his guest
musicians bring to his style. In this case, the guests have inspired the host to
reach a new height and maybe even a new style. This recording suits every fan of
world music, jazz, classical, or just good music." - Kurt Keefner

Seafood Sam is a futuristic artifact. If that description might sound confusing at first, it matches the eclectic dualities found in true originals. With his effortless cool and timeless style, the North Long Beach native defies convention and exact comparison. He's a virtuosic rapper, a stop-you-in-your tracks singer, and a symphonic producer. Welcome to the lavish life of a laid-back transcontinental man of mystery, rolling in old school Cadillacs, eating caviar with a blade in his pocket, and making plays in vintage Pelle Pelle gear. A blaxploitation icon for the Instagram age, blessed with the bars of a `90s legend and 23rd century swagger. Seafood Sam is a true hero of modernity. On his full-length album debut for up-and-coming label drink sum wtr (Kari Faux, Deem Spencer, Aja Monet) debut, Standing on Giant Shoulders, Sam splits the difference between Snoop Dogg and D' Angelo, Curren$y and David Ruffin. The songs reveal a forward-thinking sensibility rooted in ancestral soul. He creates spiritual hymns for the streets that tap into universal ideals and irrepressible groove. In an era plagued by short-term thinking, his ambitions reveal a crate-digging depth of music history and a meticulous ear for detail. The giant shoulders in the album's title refer to James Brown, Bobby Brown, and Miles Davis - the holy trinity who inspired Sam's process. From the Godfather of Soul, Sam took a perfectionist's rigor and focus. The example of Bobby Brown lent an unshakeable confidence and self-belief. While the constant artistic left turns of the trumpeter that birthed Ccool offered an aspirational archetype. The story starts in the glory days of Long Beach hip-hop. As a young child, the G-Funk era soundtracked rides in Sam's father's car. Some of his earliest memories are trying to memorize Snoop's verse on "Nuthin' But a "G" Thang." Beyond gangsta rap, the LBC has historically doubled as a capital of lowrider soul and carwash oldies. At any intersection, you could hear Dogg Food or Brenton Wood, Warren G or Barbara Lynn. This too was absorbed via osmosis. It also just so happened that the art of performance was always in Sam's blood. So at family functions, he and his sister supplied entertainment by singing karaoke renditions of The Isley Brothers. While his Harlem Shake remains a thing of local lore. Long Beach is a culturally diverse mecca of skate parks and gang life, street fashion and tricky dance moves. This is the place that raised Sam on a diet of Wu-Tang and Nelly Furtado, Lil Bow Wow and Allen Iverson. He was the middle ground between his two older brothers: one who gangbanged, the other who graduated with a master's degree from UC-Santa Barbara. But it wasn't until the end of high school that Sam started to take rap seriously. Alongside long-time collaborators like Huey Briss and Reaper Mook, Sam's name began to make waves on the northside of the city, but he was partially distracted by a modeling career that paid the bills and took him all to way to walk in Paris' fashion week. The first turning point arrived with 2018's "Ramsey," a self-produced, slick-talk anthem with over 10,000,000 streams across all platforms. With each subsequent release, Sam showcased his peerless consistency, building buzz both online and in the city streets. Spin hailed his "smooth and unhurried cadences and understated lyricism_ that sounds like nothing else in Long Beach." Clash raved about Sam's "evolution as an artist, cruising through nostalgic production with slick, witty rhymes." The culmination arrives with Standing on Giant Shoulders. It's the evidence of a master, a young sensei in the model of Quincy Jones. All rhymes, singing, production, and arrangements were handled by Sam - with an assist from his close Long Beach kinsman Tom Kendall from the group Soular System. It's hard-edged and lyrical enough for disciples of Larry June and Roc Marciano, but orchestral and melodic enough for fans of Anderson .Paak and H.E.R.

Dazzle rolled deep. Very deep. In the 1980s, it wasn't unusual for the Milwaukee-based group to show up at various Midwest night clubs in a caravan of 30-40 cars and vans. Their live following was hard won over a career that spanned 20+ years, many line up changes, and a handful of project names. Friends, family, and fans made the journey with them weekend after weekend, a testimony to both the musical prowess of the group and the tight-knit community that they emerged from.

Donald Smith, band leader, was there the whole time - joined by many of his siblings and friends - first as founder of the Ghetto Players, a early 70's nine-piece which also included siblings Michael, Ronald, and Charles. They played hard funk in the style of early Kool and the Gang, and although they sadly left no recordings, the strength of their live act managed to catch the eye of local Milwaukee R&B music entrepreneur Cobie Joe Payne. Cobie had made a couple of records locally in the early/mid 70s as a singer, including the impossibly weird and amazing rare afro-blues-funk 45 "Sweet Thing", but had never enjoyed national success. When the Ghetto Players disbanded in the early-mid 70s, Donald soon put together a new group, C on the Funk (the 'C' referring to lead vocalist and sibling Charles), under Payne's tutelage. Sister Lorrie Smith came in as the drummer, the line-up being fleshed out by brothers David and Melvin Johnson, and friend Robert Mitchell. After a few years as a strictly live attraction, they drove to Chicago and produced a single, "In the Disco" / "A Place" for Payne's small record label Sweet Thang Records in 1980. Lacking the financial backing needed to supply the local R&B disk jockey's "promotional fees" , this single sadly languished in obscurity, gathering dust inside the local tavern jukeboxes and manilla promo envelopes that comprised Payne's DIY distribution network.

C on the Funk were traveling the Mid West extensively at this point, and making some important friends on the road. Ike Wiley Jr. of the Dazz Band/Kinsman Dazz took particular interest and the band was re-christened Dazzle, partially as a tie-in with Dazz, partially to embrace the new sounds that would distinguish the 70s disco scene from what record collectors and DJs would now refer to as the "Boogie" era. There no doubt was a stigma attached to the word "Disco" as the eighties began, and as we see in this collection C On the Funk's "In the Disco" is remixed and transformed into the psychedelic synth instrumental of Dazzle's "Disco's Out", a title which embodies both the next-step approach Smith and company were pushing for, and humorously comments on the state of black dance music in the early 1980s. The Dazzle recording, done in Chicago in 1982, updated the sound and featured an expanded line up, most notably a second synth player (Charles Washington), and a percussionist/second lead vocalist (Greg McDonald). The added synth textures and deep percussive grooves give the Dazzle recordings an elegant late night vibe that resonate just as well in a good pair of headphones as they do on the dance floor. The trance inducing cough syrup-warble of "Explain" may best exemplify this here. Sadly, a pressing flaw in the 12" halted production and promotion, and the EP and the songs within were lost to the ages. The group, having done a much better line in the live music business, followed that path instead all the way to the early 90s. --bio provided by andy noble

This is the second previously unissued release by Cleveland ohio group bell telephunk, who went on to become kinsman dazz/dazz band.

This is from 1976. "sister moon" being a sublime slice of lush produced mid 70's soul music.