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The first thing that strikes you when hearing 'Nosso' is its feeling of intimacy and warmth. The title, which means 'Ours' in Portuguese, is apt since he sees the record as the result of letting a wild variety of people into his world. João notes that 'I didn't know most of the collaborators before meeting up with them in a studio somewhere in the world, so most of these songs are coming from a very immediate and honest sense of collaboration where you spend an afternoon with someone learning about each other at the same time as you're making music. It's a shared experience, a moment where two or more people came up with ideas together, that they probably wouldn't have had if they were in their comfort zone.' These meetings were turned into songs at home in Lisbon once the main ideas were created collaboratively elsewhere. 'On this album, like in everything else I did so far, the focus on the instrumental side of things was experimenting with rhythmic patterns and genres from the Portuguese-speaking universe while applying them to songs created with other artists from completely different backgrounds and places.' There's something in this process that has left the album sounding super fresh as this is a sound without borders that pulls you in. It's music everyone can be a part of, where even the most rugged up-tempo cut sounds welcoming. It's an overwhelmingly positive and joyous experience to immerse yourself in 'Nosso.' It's no wonder that the central motif of the album artwork shows a less common view of Lisbon, one where instead of looking at the historic city centre we face the suburbs, where these musical and cultural experiments have been and still are occurring, undeniably shaping the musical and cultural landscape of Lisbon in the process. As much a soul record as it is a record infused with the beats of the Portuguese-speaking world, 'Nosso' is a reflection of Branko's ongoing musical explorations and his vision of Lisbon as a privileged cultural hub for the Portuguese-speaking world and beyond. Branko fuses local rhythms from kizomba to baile funk and afrohouse through European electronic genres with a clear accessible pop sensibility and the aim of creating a unified sound that puts all these individual musical expressions in perspective as part of a greater whole. For João, this is the logical next step in his musical evolution.

Unearthed from the Crammed Discs vaults after nearly four decades (Originally recorded in 1987), a hidden gem finally sees the light. Maurice Poto Doudongo’s The Lost Album arrives on vinyl for the first time—limited to 500 copies, with printed inner sleeve featuring release notes and photographs.

Back in the hazy margins of late-’80s Brussels, where boundary-blurring sounds were seeping through the cracks of pop music, a young autodidact named Maurice Poto Doudongo was crafting music that didn’t quite belong to any scene. Born in Kinshasa and growing up in Belgium, Maurice was a sonic nomad—raised on Franco, Miriam Makeba, and Tabu Ley Rochereau, transfixed by James Brown and Prince, and shaped by the fertile collision between African music and experimental electronics occurring all around him.

Leaving school at 16 to concentrate on music full-time, he began recording on borrowed 4-tracks, using cardboard boxes for percussion, and absorbing whatever sounds the airwaves served him: “Music has no frontier,” he says. “You take what you like. Prince, Fela, Papa Wemba—there is no contradiction. It’s all part of the sound.”

The result? A record that’s equal parts analog drum machine funk, homegrown Afro-pop futurism, and new wave R&B-informed synth poetry. Marc Hollander, founder of Crammed Discs, met Maurice through his friend and associate, musician/producer Vincent Kenis and quickly recognized the spark. The two began working in earnest, preparing tracks intended for a full-length release that, for reasons lost to time and memory, never materialized—until now.

Marc remembers: “The album was never completely finished. “Bolingo” was the only track that came out on a Crammed compilation at that time… and the rest sat on the shelf for decades until we started opening the Crammed vaults.”

Maurice recalls the session as being, “like an unstoppable current”. Listening now, the Lost Album feels both of its time and well beyond it. While tracks like “Momo” sound not a million miles away from the slinky and sophisticated Balearic pop ambience of Wally Badarou’s Echoes album, "Passport Train" shakes itself loose of any genre boundaries, veering into free-form Afro-electronica and tough electronic rhythm. Others pulse with a sweet and soulful groove that suggests dance floors dreamed of but never reached.

In decades hence, Maurice never left music, and the music never left him. Now working mainly as an arranger, he describes his job as being like that of a musical psychologist: “Someone comes to me with their sound, and before anything I have to understand their mind and heart,” he explains. That same intuitive fluency can be heard across this entire album—music that listens before it speaks, that absorbs before it asserts.

This reissue is more than a remastering. It’s a second breath. Sourced from cassette roughs and 24-track demos, carefully restored with Maurice’s blessing, and released as a complete album on vinyl for the very first time, The Lost Album isn’t lost anymore.

It just took nearly 40 years to find its way to you. - Editions de Lux