Cerca:the social singing choir

"Deep Dancefloor Jams of African Disco, Funk, Boogie, Reggae & Proto Electro Music 1977-1986reggWhen a passionate DJ and crate digger intuitively selects music for a DJ compilation, without artistic compromise and without the burden of trends, AfroMagic vol.1 emerges from the depths of his soul. Herewith we present the new favorite phonomancer’s tool for all the DJs who experience the dance floor as a sanctuary and a source of freedom and love.

The most fundamental thing that defines African music is that it was created for dancing. In African dance, there is often no clear distinction between ritual celebration and social recreational entertainment – one can seemlessly merge with the other. Because dance and rhythm have more power than gesture and more richness than words, and because they express the deepest experiences of human beings, dance is in itself a complete and self-sufficient language. It is truly an expression of life with all of its emotions – joy, love, sadness and hope – without which there is no African music and dance. For the African people, dance and music are integral parts of the body and soul, thus depicting the expression of life, current emotional states, visions or dreams. Through hypnotic repetitive music and dance, people communicate with each other and with the souls of the dead, the animals, the plants, the stars, the Gods… They free the body and the spirit through ecstatic states, reaching a healing sense of freedom, happiness, and satisfaction.

Throughout history, this transcendental perception of rhythm and dance originating from Africa, influenced popular music worldwide, thus creating new living and breathing forms of musical genres – freeing them from their industrial mold. Funk, disco, soul, boogie, reggae, dancefloor jazz etc., developed in parallel all over the world. It is foolish to perpetually discuss where they originated from and who were the creators of all these fiery dance floor genres – being obvious that they directly or indirectly originate from the African continent and its people who were as well, over the centuries, influenced by disturbing socio-cultural factors of colonialism. However, no one can enslave the soul. The seeds of free and uninhibited dance and rhythm, true to their original form, initially first sprouted onto the USA’s fertile fields of clubbing and popular music while later evolving in other parts of the world.

The disco funk club culture manifested itself as a phenomenal explosion of artists and grooves in the second half of the 70s in the USA. Shortly it spread around the world continually reigning over charts in its various forms – to this day. Clubs emerged where the DJ is an almighty shaman and the dancers are a tribe united under one roof. This urban ritual had and still has a single goal: togetherness, freedom, and love. Clubs have evolved into temples where we free ourselves from the burden of a consumerist lifestyle and suppressed emotions – a place where we receive love and give love – to be who we really are.

Disco funk clubbing was such an influential global phenomenon that its influence can be observed in various other genres from the disco funk era i.e. progressive rock, which mutated by layering complex rock arrangements with a disco funk groove resulting in hybrids, highly sought by today’s diggers, producers and collectors. The profit-hungry music industry of the 80s very quickly commercialized the original disco funk sound by amputating of its original Afro groove to be able to easily ‘sell’ it globally. So, the original disco funk groove became underground again, and it has remained so until this day. Today, for a DJ to unearth that ravishing groove that will lead the dancers to the stars, he must dig passionately like a true musical archaeologist in search of that groove that picks you up after just a few initial beats. That groove which forces the atoms in your body to vibrate, that groove which unites the body and releases the burden.

The AfroMagic compilation series is created as a tool for real DJs who stick to the aesthetics and essence of clubbing.

This continuation of the Afromagic compilation by DJ Borovich was created in a private jam session which served as an escape route from intense and complex love problems.

Unconsciously driven by intuition and emotion and following a live mix tape framework where many tunes are arranged instantaneously, Borovich narrates his story with a strong rhythm that cuts loose even the most blocked off energy nodes and restores happiness to the spirit and the body.

The musical experience of the groove is completed by the lyrics of the songs, which symbolically give DJ Borovich universal answers to his questions arising from questioning the boundaries, nuances and other forms of love.

When considering that Borovich’s selection was created to facilitate an escape from the burdens of reality through rhythm and dance, we can be sure that Afromagic Vol. 2 will have a 100% uplifting, energized and spaced-out effect on the listeners.

The intro to A1, “Feeling Happy” by the Apostles, introduces us to an experienced and slow, cool and irregularly tight groove containing a confidently sung chorus that instantly gives a sense of freedom and hints at the remainder of Afromagic Vol. 2: “I’m gonna feel happy, ´cause I know I’m gonna be myself.” After the anthemic song mantra of the Apostles, Aigbe Lebarty uncompromisingly continues with a dirty disco rhythm. Acidified by accented synths that elevate it to shamanic levels and held together by a female tribal choir, we embark on an uncompromising ritual disco journey. Without a moment to take a breather the prog funk band Mighty Flames and their Road Man launch a highly vicious and raw, thick funk groove spiced with acid synths and dirty RnR breaks, raising the bar for the A side. Jimi Hendrix himself would surely praise it given the ultimate freedom and virtuosity in the solo sections. With the last tune on A side DJ Borovich decides to burn the floor with Geraldo Pino’s psychedelic, acid furious groove and lyrics which describe this HEAVY part of love problems: “The way she walk, the way she talk, the way she does a funky dances, she is really really heavy – that woman”.

While the A side represents a compact intoxicating afro groove machine that separates us from reality and lifts us up to the stars in over 23 minutes, the B side is a treasure trove of proto sub-genres gems. This selection represents the mission of the Afromagic: to find singular events in African recorded discography of popular music from the 70s and 80s that give evidence to the birth of new modern genres on the Dark Continent even before they emerged in the U.S.A. or Europe. The beginnings of electronic music influenced genres are represented back to back with 80s synth jazzy pop, all painted in African colours.

The B side opens big with Jake Sollo and a huge reggae blues number singing about the humiliation of a man – goosebumps guaranteed! “You think I’m nobody that’s why, you don’t know the way for me, I’m somebody I know, I found myself at last”. Adolf Ahanotu then enters the scene with a hard sliding tackle at B2 and an exotic rare disco funk dancefloor napalm. A ‘Sensation’ that would ignite even the coldest of introverts. While we approach the end of the compilation the narrative revolves again and takes a different turn. No less and no more than to the proto-electro that Baad John Cross serves us in “Give Me Some Lovin´”. The fat and repetitive broken electro synth groove, championing many early 90s electro tracks, is presented here without hesitation and with constant tension accompanied by a mantric chorus “Gimme some, gimme some, gimme some looooovin’, EVERBODY!!!”. Finally, we’re guided to the end of Afromagic Vol. 2 by Eji Oyevole’s 80s synth pop style presented in an authentic afro manner, giving us a glimpse at yet another released Afromagic edition, as well as giving an answer to DJ Borovich’s love problems. A smoothly broken electronic rhythm resembling electrified highlife sounds, carried on the wings of a virtuoso dreamy saxophone on top of which Eji presents the most intimate parts of himself. Finalizing the track with a symbolic chorus, on the surface referring to the dancefloor and simply having fun, but in actuality referring to the skill and happiness of living: “I´m a dancer, I can dance”. So, get up and dance among the stars with DJ Borovich and Afromagic.

For a few years Leo Robinson was the sort of hidden secret you sometimes come across in local music scenes. First in Manchester and now in Glasgow, he’d pop up regularly on DIY bills or as local support to a touring act, quietly blowing them off stage with his rich baritone vocal and homespun lo-fi tales of folklore and animism. With The Temple – his debut on PRAH Recordings – he looks set to cross over from being a cult concern.

“There's a spectrum within the album between fully mythologising or symbolising my lived experience, and just stating it in very matter of fact terms - that push and pull between the need to abstract and the need to break through the abstraction and have an honest moment with oneself” he explains. “This is one of the themes of the album as well as part of the process. The aim was to take all these anecdotal or symbolic elements and merge them into one narrative and one world, in a way that you can find your way through the record as if it were a landscape or language with its own logic.”

The record takes on a pastoral, slightly baroque nature that Robinson partly attributes to a friend screening a lot of ‘70s BBC material in his book shop that they used to hang out at. There are also elements of jazz, flickering to life in “The Spring”’s piano-led finale and coda.

Thematically, Robinson likens it to a Jungian ‘Hero's Journey’, his voice possessing a character who goes through several defined stages of consciousness. From conception and the beginning of an earthly life, the first half of the album recognises the development of the protagonist’s narrative and identity, before “The Pink Light”’s freeform departure from the hitherto more song-based suite devastatingly shatters this. The second half of the album then sees the protagonist witness “the uncontainable” water; learning that true divinity lies not in the individual self or lofty notions of gods and temples, but in the unremarkable nettles, insects and dogs on the roadside riverbank - referenced on tracks “The Cormorant” and “The Spring”.

Although now residing north of the border, The Temple was written while Robinson was finding his feet in Manchester, having moved there to go to art school as a teenager (as a visual artist, he has exhibited at the Tiwani Contemporary in London and Cardiff’s Chapter Arts Centre). As a result, many of the tracks bear out the shadows of his experiences in the northern city – at their most visible and explicit on the beautifully fragile storytelling of “The Pavement”. Written the day after the Manchester Arena Bombings, it recalls Robinson waking up to go to work on a hot summer’s day to discover that his street had been blocked off for terrorism investigations; it then progresses through the rest of his day, amidst the grimly surreal aftermath of the previous night.

Having written the chords, melodies and lyrics to the album, Robinson fleshed out the tunes by scoring out parts for the additional instrumentation, but it was only when a friend sent a demo to PRAH that he was able to fund its full recording. Guitars, vocals, piano and French Horn (the latter recorded by Lauren Reeve-Rawlings) were put down at Green Door Studios in Glasgow. Microphones were placed around the room and the sound of the musicians stepping on creaky floorboards and opening creaky doors were left audible to further the record’s live feel. The harpsichord heard on “The Serpent”, meanwhile, came from University of Glasgow lecturer David McGuinness. Strings were then recorded at PRAH Studios by Francesca Ter-Berg and Raven Bush, the Social Singing Choir adding their choral vocals to “Temple II”.

The result is an album that feels both luscious and yet intimately raw; as grand as Richard Dawson at his most panoramic but containing the rough edges and skeletal looseness of a Calvin Johnson work. At times Robinson lyrically moves towards the surreal, but ultimately this is a record grounded in reality; a true showcase of Robinson’s skill as a lyricist and songwriter.

Gombloh’s forgotten masterpiece

What if you have Brian Wilson and Bruce Springsteen rolled into one? And what if he came of age as an poor buskers in in Surabaya, Indonesia, but then summoned enough strength to record six albums that flew in the face of everyone in the country’s rock scene back in the early 1980s?

Genius, be they Brian Wilson or Soedjarwoto “Soemarsono” Gombloh, don’t conform to rules written for us mere mortals. They have their own way of doing things and in the case of Gombloh, writing music, conducting recording session and spending cash from his music, must be conducted on his own terms and his terms only. Studio time was expensive back in the early 1980s, yet Gombloh could be three-hour late for his session, and while engineers, session musicians and producers were jittery about the prospect of another botched session, Gombloh took his time for a nap before the recording begun.

Yet, some of his greatest works came into being in the wake of this napping session. Recording session for Sekar Mayang is no exception, despite the fact there’s foreboding sense of doom with Gombloh being unsure about the possibility of selling enough units to help his label break even. This is, after all, this is his last record with his band Lemon Tree’s. No one knew that Gombloh was operating with all his cylinders running and what came out of this Indra Record session, in the waning days of 1980, were some of the best compositions ever committed to magnetic tapes (to wax, if now you’re holding this on vinyl).

This is Gombloh at the peak of his creative genius. You can argue that his debut album Nadia & Atmospheer (what’s with the spelling mistake?) is the most sprawling and complex album (both sonically and thematically), but Sekar Mayang certainly had the best songs and I can make the argument that this album’s 10 songs are strong contenders for biggest hits in blues, country, psychedelic rock charts. “Prahoro & Prahoro” is one of those impossible song which appears to have sprung from a bottomless well of inspiration, encompassing King Crimson’s sprawling epic, Deep Purple’s deepest blues and Genesis’ most progressive tendencies. Or “Sekaring Jagat”, which begins as Lennon-McCartney lullaby before launching a thousand ships traveling to the end of the rainbow with children choir singing heavenly melodies backed by droning harpsichord and synclavier, while a buzzing Hammond B3 tightly locks with Gombloh’s guitar strumming.

For many of his fans, Gombloh is known as generous man of the people. A Robin Hood type if you please. He spent his royalty checks to buy foods for beggars and buskers and dish out some more to buy undergarments for Surabaya’s prostitutes. In Sekar Mayang, Gombloh went full Springsteen mode in “Mitra Becakan,” a social commentary that cut so deep you can end up with tears in your eyes and lump in your throat (even if you don’t understand any of its Javanese language lyrics). This is one the most devastating social commentary ever recorded for a pop song, and even if you discount the greatness of its musical composition, you chalk this up as a great social-realism poetry. His years of hanging out with pedicab drivers, street vendors and street-bound prostitutes certainly gave him enough insight into their (in)human condition.

Yet, a record this stellar was largely forgotten. First, this record was a flop upon its release in 1981. Indra Records reportedly only did one pressing on cassette tape and be done with it. For those who were lucky enough to have come across one of songs from this album on the radio were likely growing up in East Java, where Gombloh had a massive cult following early in the 1980s. Nothing was heard from this record again.

There were only a handful of cassette tapes from the first pressing found on second-hand market and I recently stumbled upon one online with a price tag of Rp 50 million (US$3,500). It’s no longer available now.

In Sekar Mayang, Gombloh harbours an obsession for a long-lost utopia, Java’s distant past, where farmers have their barn full of rice and corn, where blacksmith working around the clock making tools and children singing and dancing in their seminaries. Or the fact that he opens the song with stanza from Serat Weddhatama, arguably the most monumental poem in neo-classic Javanese literature, could be his pledge of allegiance. The question for him is should a modern-day Indonesia, rife with poverty, corruption and environmental degradation not be an anathema to that utopia?

In the end, you don’t need to be someone fluent in Javanese to enjoy this majestic record. And if this record turns out to be the last in Elevation Records catalogue and we shut down this label tomorrow, we will be very happy. Mission accomplished!

A reissue of Jorge Ben's Solta o Pavao, originally released in 1975. Jorge Ben is one of Brazilian music's iconic and best-loved figures. Born Jorge Duilio Lima Menezes in Rio in 1942, he took the stage name, Jorge Ben, in deference to his mother's Ethiopian roots, and later used Jorge Ben Jorge for further distinction. Playing tambourine and singing in a church choir from an early age, Ben began playing in Carnival blocos and was performing in nightclubs as a teen. Signed to Philips in 1963, his "Mas Que Nada" became an instant international sensation that has never waned, despite being sung entirely in Portuguese. Beginning in samba, Ben's openminded approach saw him embrace aspects of bossa nova, the "Jovem Guarda" rock movement of the mid-1960s and the experimental Tropicalia form, the broad palette and diverse influences yielding a number of adventurous and abstruse albums during the 1970s, of which Solta o Pavao is one of the most rated by connoisseurs, though somewhat overlooked in general; its title translates roughly to "Unleash the Peacock" and apparently concerns the outward expression of inner beauty. Against a backdrop of lushly produced samba rock with shades of MPB, highlights include opener "Zagueiro", in which Ben salutes football center-backs in typically playful and poetic language; closing number "Jesualda" is a heady ballad of a chance encounter leading to a girl's social climbing and "Para Ouvir No Radio (Luciana)" a love song with striking flute and string arrangements; Dadi Flavi's bubbling bass and occasional string synths help keep the sound non-standard.

Rich, Deep, Percussive Soulful Folk Album From Master Togolese Singer, Akofa Akoussah.

The Album Moves Through Uptempo Afro-folk-funk On 'tango' To Deep Ballads Of 'ramer Sans Rame' And 'i Tcho Tchass' And Lighter Moments On 'g Blem Di' And 'mitso Aseye'. Akofas Exceptional Songs And Soaring Vocals Are Decorated With Percussion, Guitar Lines, Subtle Backing Vocals And Horns To Create A Unique, Rich Sonic. The Album Was Recorded For Release By French Label Sonafric In 1976. Produced By Gérard Akueson; Founder & Owner Of African Record Label, 'akue', Based In Paris.

Music Was Truly In The Blood Of Julie Akofa Akoussah. She Began Singing At The Age Of Three, Inspired And Led By Her Mother And Older Sister And Became Principal Soloist In Her School Choir, St. Peter & Paul Choir Of Our Immaculate Conception Parish Of Nyékonakpoé, At The Age Of 8. From There Her Career Blossomed, And Singing Often Took Precedence Over Her Studies. In Order To Master Her Art She Spent Time Studying And Working Closely With Local Groups Including Mélo Togo, Rocka Mambo, Rio Romamcero, Ok Fiesta, Eryco Jazz, Afro Cubano, Los Muchacho, Elégance Jazz And Togo Star Amongst Others. In Her Own Words: 'luck Opened The Door In January 1966 Where I Had The Honour Of Being Selected To Share The Stage With Bella Below - One Of The Best Voices Of

Africa - At The 1st 'negro Arts Festival' In Dakar. On My Return, I Was Approached By Ambroise Ouyi, The Highly Respected Singer & Poet, And We Wrote 'tu Ne M'écris Plus', My Very First Opus.'

The Popularity Of Her Work Led To An Increased Exposure For Togolese Music Outside Of The Country, In Neighbouring Ghana And Benin Most Notably. During Her Career She Collaborated And Performed With Greats Including Manou Djibango, Queen Pelagie, Abeti Massikini, Aycha Koné And Myriam Makeba. Akoussah Was Also Dedicated To, And Widely Recognised For, Her Work For Social Causes, Championing And Nurturing Young Musical Talent, And The Fight Against Aids. She Was President Of The National Union Of Artists Musicians Of Togo (unam) Before Sadly Passing Away In April 2007 After A Long Illness, At The Age Of 57.