GLITTERBEAT - Forced Exposure

$23.50 PREORDER RELEASE DATE: 5/29/2020

LP version. Includes download code. The inventive duo of brothers from the Golan Heights -- Hasan and Rami Nakhleh -- return with an infectious re-imagining of their sound. Jammed full of pop hooks and quarter-tone melodic lines, Migrant Birds unleashes a disco whirlwind that pays homage to the Middle Eastern dancefloor scenes of the '80s. The new synth-powered album from TootArd takes them to the dancefloor, about as far from the spare, guitar-driven desert blues of their highly touted Glitterbeat debut Laissez Passer (GB 054CD/LP, 2017). The '80s may be the catalyst, with the glittering, hedonistic party vibe. But the real roots of the music here run deeper, to musicians like keyboardist Magdi al-Husseini and Ihsan Al-Munzer, who were the first to introduce synthesizers to the Arabic classical style, or Omar Khorshid, who pioneered the addition of electric guitar and worked with the legendary Umm Kulthum. They brought Arabic music firmly into the modern age. Migrant Birds winds all those strands from the past together into a very intricately-crafted whole with a full sound. Under the beats and joy, there's a dark contrast, a sorrow that casts its shadow all across the lyrics. The album's heart is simple idea -- freedom; of being those Migrant Birds and flying away. But perhaps that's as natural as breathing for people who remain officially "undefined" and stateless. Those who are born in the occupied Golan Heights have no passport, depending instead on a document called a laissez passer to be able to cross borders. It is a situation that has existed since the late 1960s when Israel took control of the region. A feeling of leaving, of knowing the emotional distance from where you began, is captured in "Wanderlust" with its Kerouac images of existing on the road. In "Babe," the thoughts of escape come from an Arabic woman, desperate to flee her dominant husband. That sadness which ripples through the lyrics is a perfect fit with the album's two slower tracks, "Ya Ghali" and the stately closer, "Remote Love." All through Migrant Birds, the focus is on songs that have plenty to say. Only one is an instrumental, the enigmatically-titled "Stone Heap Of The Wild Cat." While proudly rooted in the Middle East, Migrant Birds is infectious and globally accessible. But the album embraces a basic pop concept, with short, well-produced songs.

$15.50 PREORDER RELEASE DATE: 5/29/2020

The inventive duo of brothers from the Golan Heights -- Hasan and Rami Nakhleh -- return with an infectious re-imagining of their sound. Jammed full of pop hooks and quarter-tone melodic lines, Migrant Birds unleashes a disco whirlwind that pays homage to the Middle Eastern dancefloor scenes of the '80s. The new synth-powered album from TootArd takes them to the dancefloor, about as far from the spare, guitar-driven desert blues of their highly touted Glitterbeat debut Laissez Passer (GB 054CD/LP, 2017). The '80s may be the catalyst, with the glittering, hedonistic party vibe. But the real roots of the music here run deeper, to musicians like keyboardist Magdi al-Husseini and Ihsan Al-Munzer, who were the first to introduce synthesizers to the Arabic classical style, or Omar Khorshid, who pioneered the addition of electric guitar and worked with the legendary Umm Kulthum. They brought Arabic music firmly into the modern age. Migrant Birds winds all those strands from the past together into a very intricately-crafted whole with a full sound. Under the beats and joy, there's a dark contrast, a sorrow that casts its shadow all across the lyrics. The album's heart is simple idea -- freedom; of being those Migrant Birds and flying away. But perhaps that's as natural as breathing for people who remain officially "undefined" and stateless. Those who are born in the occupied Golan Heights have no passport, depending instead on a document called a laissez passer to be able to cross borders. It is a situation that has existed since the late 1960s when Israel took control of the region. A feeling of leaving, of knowing the emotional distance from where you began, is captured in "Wanderlust" with its Kerouac images of existing on the road. In "Babe," the thoughts of escape come from an Arabic woman, desperate to flee her dominant husband. That sadness which ripples through the lyrics is a perfect fit with the album's two slower tracks, "Ya Ghali" and the stately closer, "Remote Love." All through Migrant Birds, the focus is on songs that have plenty to say. Only one is an instrumental, the enigmatically-titled "Stone Heap Of The Wild Cat." While proudly rooted in the Middle East, Migrant Birds is infectious and globally accessible. But the album embraces a basic pop concept, with short, well-produced songs.

$15.50 PREORDER RELEASE DATE: 5/8/2020

Glitterbeat present the first-ever reissue of The Pace Setters, the classic 1981 debut album from this much revered Ghanaian band Edikanfo. Vibrantly produced by British sound explorer Brian Eno in Accra, Ghana. Highlife meets Afro-funk. Almost four decades after a coup d'état in Ghana prematurely halted their career, Edikanfo's surviving band members are at last gearing up to reissue and tour The Pace Setters. Features exclusive liner notes from Eno and an extensive interview with Edikanfo band leader, Gilbert Amartey Amar. In 1981, London-based E.G. Records released the debut album from a young Ghanaian group called Edikanfo. The eight-piece band was the last group to be managed by the late Faisal Helwani, a charismatic impresario who was based at the popular Napoleon Club in Osu, a suburb in Ghana's teeming capital Accra. Edikanfo quickly rose to international notoriety following the release of The Pace Setters because of the infectious, forward-looking highlife meets Afro-funk synthesis the band committed to tape. But the album also caught an additional wind of publicity due to its producer, the already legendary British musician and sound conceptualist Brian Eno. During that time, Eno was researching and openly propagating West African music. He recently collaborated with Talking Heads on Remain in Light (1980) and with Talking Heads frontman David Byrne on My Life in the Bush of Ghosts (1981). Eno and Edikanfo's work together at Studio One in Accra (Ghana) was yet another inspired morphing of soundworlds and processes and a significant touchstone for both artists. Just when the sky seemed the limit for Edikanfo, the coup d'état in Ghana on the last day of 1981, tragically put the brakes on the band's quickly developing fortunes. For years after that, the country endured enforced curfews at night, which of course ultimately gutted the live music scene in Accra and elsewhere. Because of this and other financial setbacks, the band ceased activity and its members spread out in exile, all over the world. Now, almost four decades later, Edikanfo has returned. And with its surviving members gearing up to reissue and tour their classic 1981 album, The Pace Setters, the band is once again excitedly pointed towards the future. Bassist, songwriter and founding member Gilbert Amartey Amar, popularly known as Chi-Kin-Chee, talked to the label from Accra, Ghana where he is currently rehearsing Edikanfo and preparing for an upcoming European tour -- the group's first ever.

$23.50 PREORDER RELEASE DATE: 5/8/2020

LP version. Includes download code. Glitterbeat present the first-ever reissue of The Pace Setters, the classic 1981 debut album from this much revered Ghanaian band Edikanfo. Vibrantly produced by British sound explorer Brian Eno in Accra, Ghana. Highlife meets Afro-funk. Almost four decades after a coup d'état in Ghana prematurely halted their career, Edikanfo's surviving band members are at last gearing up to reissue and tour The Pace Setters. Features exclusive liner notes from Eno and an extensive interview with Edikanfo band leader, Gilbert Amartey Amar. In 1981, London-based E.G. Records released the debut album from a young Ghanaian group called Edikanfo. The eight-piece band was the last group to be managed by the late Faisal Helwani, a charismatic impresario who was based at the popular Napoleon Club in Osu, a suburb in Ghana's teeming capital Accra. Edikanfo quickly rose to international notoriety following the release of The Pace Setters because of the infectious, forward-looking highlife meets Afro-funk synthesis the band committed to tape. But the album also caught an additional wind of publicity due to its producer, the already legendary British musician and sound conceptualist Brian Eno. During that time, Eno was researching and openly propagating West African music. He recently collaborated with Talking Heads on Remain in Light (1980) and with Talking Heads frontman David Byrne on My Life in the Bush of Ghosts (1981). Eno and Edikanfo's work together at Studio One in Accra (Ghana) was yet another inspired morphing of soundworlds and processes and a significant touchstone for both artists. Just when the sky seemed the limit for Edikanfo, the coup d'état in Ghana on the last day of 1981, tragically put the brakes on the band's quickly developing fortunes. For years after that, the country endured enforced curfews at night, which of course ultimately gutted the live music scene in Accra and elsewhere. Because of this and other financial setbacks, the band ceased activity and its members spread out in exile, all over the world. Now, almost four decades later, Edikanfo has returned. And with its surviving members gearing up to reissue and tour their classic 1981 album, The Pace Setters, the band is once again excitedly pointed towards the future. Bassist, songwriter and founding member Gilbert Amartey Amar, popularly known as Chi-Kin-Chee, talked to the label from Accra, Ghana where he is currently rehearsing Edikanfo and preparing for an upcoming European tour -- the group's first ever.

$23.00 PREORDER RELEASE DATE: 4/24/2020

LP version. Includes download code. Raw and celebratory funeral music from northern Ghana. Recorded 100% live and outdoors by Ian Brennan. Sixth release from Glitterbeat's acclaimed Hidden Musics series. Ian Brennan is a Grammy award winning producer (Tinariwen, Ustad Saami, Zomba Prison Project, Ramblin' Jack Elliot) and the author of several books, the most recent being: Silenced by Sound: The Music Meritocracy Myth (2019).

"On the dusty-road outskirts of Tamale (Ghana) near the School of Hygiene, the group says they prefer to use the name given to their tribe by colonialists (Fra Fra) rather than being commanded what to correct after the fact. The fra fra trio is led by Small, a man who celebrates his diminutive size rather than seeing it as a lack. He picked the two-string Kologo 'guitar' with dog-tags fastened at the head as rattles. Another hallmark of Fra Fra culture are the tiny bone mouth flutes that they actually call horns, since that is what they are made from. As funeral songs are often done in procession, I took the mics to the group when they seemed reluctant to enter the compound, instead gyrating in circles on the gravel outside. In recording, coverage is more important than precision. Every microphone tells a slightly different version of the truth, so I quickly threw up as many as possible. Far from deathly dirges, these were largely celebrations. Their process of mourning bares more than a passing resemblance to a New Orleans second line marching band. It is challenging to disregard this as mere coincidence given the sad history of the transatlantic slave trade exploiting their very region in the north. Ghana struggles with its own north/south divide . . . This northern zone was a wellspring of the Blues, a land where they emanated and never left. As so often is the case, literacy in no way determined creativity. Small was able to riff almost endlessly. In fact, his performances grew freer and stronger past the ten-minute mark, so much so that songs would become nearly different tunes entirely. Following his flow, I simply let tape roll until things fell apart, but even then, I feared that still greater things may've lay beyond if only the musicians had kept going. When we were through, Small asserted that he could see that music was 'in my blood.' But I protested. Music is in all of us..." --Ian Brennan

$15.50 PREORDER RELEASE DATE: 4/24/2020

Raw and celebratory funeral music from northern Ghana. Recorded 100% live and outdoors by Ian Brennan. Sixth release from Glitterbeat's acclaimed Hidden Musics series. Ian Brennan is a Grammy award winning producer (Tinariwen, Ustad Saami, Zomba Prison Project, Ramblin' Jack Elliot) and the author of several books, the most recent being: Silenced by Sound: The Music Meritocracy Myth (2019).

"On the dusty-road outskirts of Tamale (Ghana) near the School of Hygiene, the group says they prefer to use the name given to their tribe by colonialists (Fra Fra) rather than being commanded what to correct after the fact. The fra fra trio is led by Small, a man who celebrates his diminutive size rather than seeing it as a lack. He picked the two-string Kologo 'guitar' with dog-tags fastened at the head as rattles. Another hallmark of Fra Fra culture are the tiny bone mouth flutes that they actually call horns, since that is what they are made from. As funeral songs are often done in procession, I took the mics to the group when they seemed reluctant to enter the compound, instead gyrating in circles on the gravel outside. In recording, coverage is more important than precision. Every microphone tells a slightly different version of the truth, so I quickly threw up as many as possible. Far from deathly dirges, these were largely celebrations. Their process of mourning bares more than a passing resemblance to a New Orleans second line marching band. It is challenging to disregard this as mere coincidence given the sad history of the transatlantic slave trade exploiting their very region in the north. Ghana struggles with its own north/south divide . . . This northern zone was a wellspring of the Blues, a land where they emanated and never left. As so often is the case, literacy in no way determined creativity. Small was able to riff almost endlessly. In fact, his performances grew freer and stronger past the ten-minute mark, so much so that songs would become nearly different tunes entirely. Following his flow, I simply let tape roll until things fell apart, but even then, I feared that still greater things may've lay beyond if only the musicians had kept going. When we were through, Small asserted that he could see that music was 'in my blood.' But I protested. Music is in all of us..." --Ian Brennan

$15.50 IN STOCK

On Tamotaït, Tamikrest's fifth studio album, the music blazes bright and long. With the political situation so volatile and desperate in the Saharan ancestral lands from which Tamikrest come, this is more than an album. Tamotaït means hope for a positive change. Change as in an end to the fighting that's plagued northern Mali and the wider region for the past several years; change such as the chance to prosper within their own homeland -- Azawad -- a proto nation that the nomadic Tuareg (or Kel Tamasheq as they prefer to be called) briefly possessed in 2012. It's assouf, music forged in exile. Because of the toxic regional conflict, for much of the last decade the founding members of Tamikrest have not lived in Kidal, Mali, the desert crossroads town where the band began in 2007. They live in Tamanrasset (Algeria), Paris, and at times along the desolate Algerian/Malian borderlands. Yet, exile can also mean the hope of return, and on "Amzagh" and "As Sastnan Hidjan", the two tracks the group sees as pivotal to understanding the themes of Tamotaït, Tamikrest sing of the possibilities that lie ahead for the Kel Tamasheq people. The music builds and builds, the dual, intertwined guitars of Ag Mossa and Paul Salvagnac relentless and insistent, until it finally all boils over. It also brings light and warmth and comfort, and its glow fills the beautifully aching "Timtarin", where the band is joined by an ideal collaborator, the renowned Moroccan singer Hindi Zahra. Tamotaït is the most expansive and adventurous album that Tamikrest have made, exploring every corner of their sound. There's even music they made far from the Sahara -- in Japan. On tour there, Ag Mossa had been very taken by the sound of their traditional instruments. Tamikrest's plans to record there were almost derailed by a typhoon. But one track does appear on the album: the final cut, "Tabsit", with its atmospheric, gossamer melody. The shamisen and five-string tonkori of guests Atsushi Sakta and Oki Kano glide around the guitars to create a piece where the desert truly does meet the Rising Sun. Most of Tamotaït, though, was recorded in rural France, working with producer David Odlum (Glen Hansard, Gemma Hayes, Tinariwen), stepping up from his mixing role on the band's 2016 release, Kidal (GB 043CD/LP). Tamikrest have become one of the best rock n' roll bands in the world.

$23.50 IN STOCK

LP version. 180 gram vinyl; included download code. On Tamotaït, Tamikrest's fifth studio album, the music blazes bright and long. With the political situation so volatile and desperate in the Saharan ancestral lands from which Tamikrest come, this is more than an album. Tamotaït means hope for a positive change. Change as in an end to the fighting that's plagued northern Mali and the wider region for the past several years; change such as the chance to prosper within their own homeland -- Azawad -- a proto nation that the nomadic Tuareg (or Kel Tamasheq as they prefer to be called) briefly possessed in 2012. It's assouf, music forged in exile. Because of the toxic regional conflict, for much of the last decade the founding members of Tamikrest have not lived in Kidal, Mali, the desert crossroads town where the band began in 2007. They live in Tamanrasset (Algeria), Paris, and at times along the desolate Algerian/Malian borderlands. Yet, exile can also mean the hope of return, and on "Amzagh" and "As Sastnan Hidjan", the two tracks the group sees as pivotal to understanding the themes of Tamotaït, Tamikrest sing of the possibilities that lie ahead for the Kel Tamasheq people. The music builds and builds, the dual, intertwined guitars of Ag Mossa and Paul Salvagnac relentless and insistent, until it finally all boils over. It also brings light and warmth and comfort, and its glow fills the beautifully aching "Timtarin", where the band is joined by an ideal collaborator, the renowned Moroccan singer Hindi Zahra. Tamotaït is the most expansive and adventurous album that Tamikrest have made, exploring every corner of their sound. There's even music they made far from the Sahara -- in Japan. On tour there, Ag Mossa had been very taken by the sound of their traditional instruments. Tamikrest's plans to record there were almost derailed by a typhoon. But one track does appear on the album: the final cut, "Tabsit", with its atmospheric, gossamer melody. The shamisen and five-string tonkori of guests Atsushi Sakta and Oki Kano glide around the guitars to create a piece where the desert truly does meet the Rising Sun. Most of Tamotaït, though, was recorded in rural France, working with producer David Odlum (Glen Hansard, Gemma Hayes, Tinariwen), stepping up from his mixing role on the band's 2016 release, Kidal (GB 043CD/LP). Tamikrest have become one of the best rock n' roll bands in the world.

$23.50 IN STOCK

LP version. 180 gram vinyl; includes download code. Fado rewired and recast. Raül Refree - one of Europe's most innovative producers (Rosalía, Sonic Youth's Lee Ranaldo) -- meets Lina, a Portuguese singer renowned for her haunting interpretations of Amalia's classic repertoire. Analog synths and hushed sonics. Making history by breaking the rules. Shedding the skin. A fresh beginning. That's what singer Lina and producer/multi-instrumentalist Raül Refree have given Portuguese fado on Lina_Raül Refree. They've sloughed off the old trappings and exacting traditions of the country's national music and given it into a perfect fit for the 21st century. Gone are the chiming guitars that were the music's instrumental trademark, and in their place comes piano and analog synths. Lina has a deep background in the music; her family has sung it for two generations and she took it up when she was 15, studied opera and turned to the stage, where she portrayed fado's great queen, Amália Rodrigues, before being invited to become a regular at Lisbon's iconic Clube de Fado. Raül Refree has been widely-praised for his solo work, like the album La Otra Mitad (GB 065CD/LP, 2018), as well as his ground-breaking productions; he'd collaborated with the flamenco incendiary Rosalía on her Los Angeles album (2017), the disc that first made her name. Lina chose the songs, fado classics associated with Amália Rodrigues. It was material she knew and loved deeply. Not being a part of the tradition, Refree was unfamiliar with the originals. That helped him and allowed him to come to the music without the weight of history. Beginning in May 2018, over the course of three sessions, they let the sound take shape. In the world they created, the music embraces and captures the listener via the time-honored songs, the minimalist textures and Lina's performances -- so full of bittersweet hope. Yet there are also some delicious, unexpected moments that add to the majesty, like Lina, multi-tracked, rising out of the mix like a choir on "Barco Negro," or the fragile, quivering of piano notes that take wing on "Gaivota." Throughout, Refree's arrangements are quietly subtle, the analog synths and ambience very sparingly used to keep the voice very much at the heart of everything. It's a perfect balance; the instruments are a frame for Lina as she explores every nuance of sorrow and fleeting joy, feeling every word she sings at the core of her being.

$15.50 IN STOCK

Fado rewired and recast. Raül Refree - one of Europe's most innovative producers (Rosalía, Sonic Youth's Lee Ranaldo) -- meets Lina, a Portuguese singer renowned for her haunting interpretations of Amalia's classic repertoire. Analog synths and hushed sonics. Making history by breaking the rules. Shedding the skin. A fresh beginning. That's what singer Lina and producer/multi-instrumentalist Raül Refree have given Portuguese fado on Lina_Raül Refree. They've sloughed off the old trappings and exacting traditions of the country's national music and given it into a perfect fit for the 21st century. Gone are the chiming guitars that were the music's instrumental trademark, and in their place comes piano and analog synths. Lina has a deep background in the music; her family has sung it for two generations and she took it up when she was 15, studied opera and turned to the stage, where she portrayed fado's great queen, Amália Rodrigues, before being invited to become a regular at Lisbon's iconic Clube de Fado. Raül Refree has been widely-praised for his solo work, like the album La Otra Mitad (GB 065CD/LP, 2018), as well as his ground-breaking productions; he'd collaborated with the flamenco incendiary Rosalía on her Los Angeles album (2017), the disc that first made her name. Lina chose the songs, fado classics associated with Amália Rodrigues. It was material she knew and loved deeply. Not being a part of the tradition, Refree was unfamiliar with the originals. That helped him and allowed him to come to the music without the weight of history. Beginning in May 2018, over the course of three sessions, they let the sound take shape. In the world they created, the music embraces and captures the listener via the time-honored songs, the minimalist textures and Lina's performances -- so full of bittersweet hope. Yet there are also some delicious, unexpected moments that add to the majesty, like Lina, multi-tracked, rising out of the mix like a choir on "Barco Negro," or the fragile, quivering of piano notes that take wing on "Gaivota." Throughout, Refree's arrangements are quietly subtle, the analog synths and ambience very sparingly used to keep the voice very much at the heart of everything. It's a perfect balance; the instruments are a frame for Lina as she explores every nuance of sorrow and fleeting joy, feeling every word she sings at the core of her being.

$15.50 IN STOCK

On the front cover of Saharawi singer-songwriter and activist Aziza Brahim's new album, Sahari, a young girl poses in ballet shoes and a glistening white tutu. It's a common childhood scene, but it's tipped upside down. She's an exile, living nowhere near her homeland, and behind her stand the tents and buildings of a refugee camp. There's a desert on the ground and a burning sky above. Yet even in this bleakness, she has optimism. She believes in a better future. The music Aziza Brahim makes reflects both the sorrow and the hope of these people. She grew up in one of those camps in the Algerian desert, along with thousands of other Saharawi who were removed from their homes in the Western Sahara. Her grandmother was a famous Saharawi poet, her mother well-known as a vocalist, and they passed their strength and fearlessness to her. Now, as one of North African most lauded singers, Brahim uses her position to make the plight of her people known -- and of the refugees across the world who have no choice but to exist in the camps. Sahari is for them as much as it's for her own family. The political remains intensely personal for Brahim. She lives in exile, in Spain, and the music for Sahari -- her third album for Glitterbeat -- was written there. And while her songs remain grounded in her homeland, her gaze is increasingly global. To achieve that, Brahim worked with the acclaimed Spanish artist Amparo Sánchez of the band Amparanoia on the album's pre-production, and the collaboration has made a transformative impact on the music. The focus is broader, with programming and keyboards a vital part of the new sound. The different approach extends to the very root of Brahim's music, the tabal drum that's been the heart of Saharawi music for centuries. The process was made smoother by having a sympathetic band who've been with her for years. All the members played a part in framing the new material. When Brahim began as a composer, her work reflected her own reality, growing up in the far, rocky desert known as the hamada. These days she's become a voice for refugees across the globe, and what she sees every day on the news has inevitably affected her writing. Perhaps Aziza's empowered, healing music, can help refuel our sense of justice and compassion.

$23.50 IN STOCK

LP version. 180 gram vinyl; includes download code. On the front cover of Saharawi singer-songwriter and activist Aziza Brahim's new album, Sahari, a young girl poses in ballet shoes and a glistening white tutu. It's a common childhood scene, but it's tipped upside down. She's an exile, living nowhere near her homeland, and behind her stand the tents and buildings of a refugee camp. There's a desert on the ground and a burning sky above. Yet even in this bleakness, she has optimism. She believes in a better future. The music Aziza Brahim makes reflects both the sorrow and the hope of these people. She grew up in one of those camps in the Algerian desert, along with thousands of other Saharawi who were removed from their homes in the Western Sahara. Her grandmother was a famous Saharawi poet, her mother well-known as a vocalist, and they passed their strength and fearlessness to her. Now, as one of North African most lauded singers, Brahim uses her position to make the plight of her people known -- and of the refugees across the world who have no choice but to exist in the camps. Sahari is for them as much as it's for her own family. The political remains intensely personal for Brahim. She lives in exile, in Spain, and the music for Sahari -- her third album for Glitterbeat -- was written there. And while her songs remain grounded in her homeland, her gaze is increasingly global. To achieve that, Brahim worked with the acclaimed Spanish artist Amparo Sánchez of the band Amparanoia on the album's pre-production, and the collaboration has made a transformative impact on the music. The focus is broader, with programming and keyboards a vital part of the new sound. The different approach extends to the very root of Brahim's music, the tabal drum that's been the heart of Saharawi music for centuries. The process was made smoother by having a sympathetic band who've been with her for years. All the members played a part in framing the new material. When Brahim began as a composer, her work reflected her own reality, growing up in the far, rocky desert known as the hamada. These days she's become a voice for refugees across the globe, and what she sees every day on the news has inevitably affected her writing. Perhaps Aziza's empowered, healing music, can help refuel our sense of justice and compassion.

$15.50 IN STOCK

A dark, thundering Kinshasa meets Paris soundworld. Ecstatic vocals, broken beats, subterranean bass and full-throttle energy. This four-piece group of sonic groundbreakers have delivered a scintillating debut album. Bantou Mentale was born in Chateau Rouge and born out of Matongé. Drummer and song-writer Cubain Kabeya -- originally from the DRC, now resident in Paris -- has been in or around every big thrill to come out of Kinshasa over the past decade: Staff Benda Bilili, Konono No.1, Jupiter & Okwess, Mbongwana Star. Guitarist Chicco Katembo was part of the Staff Benda Bilili story in the early days, before moving to Paris to live with his French mother. Singer Apocalypse is an ace face on the Parisian Congo scene, an alumnus of the orchestra of Koffi Olomide, emperor of contemporary Congolese soukous. Liam Farrell, aka Doctor L, born Irish, raised Parisian, is a musician, composer, and producer with an impressive score sheet that includes Assassin, FFF, Psycho on Da Bus, Tony Allen, Mbongwana Star, Babani Koné, Nneka, Les Amazones d'Afrique. The Bantou Mentale sound is neither traditional, nor slave to the all-encompassing tropes of Congolese rumba, nor slick and arty and self-consciously stylish. They're bringing something modern, raw, open to the world. Liam and Cubain have been distilling experimental mashes of electro African beats on-and-off for years, under names like Black Cowboys or Negro-P. The sound is a gleeful borderless up-cycling of all the urban styles that Paris, London, New York, Kinshasa have been doling out to the world these past two decades, combined into something new and purposeful. There are songs like "Zanzibar" and "Sango" that lament the clandestino stuck in the desert, penniless, screwed. And songs like "Chateau Rouge" that celebrate the wild uncertainty, the liberation, the fellowship of the migrant. "Boko Haram" bemoans the intellectual subservience and social servitude of many Africans, with music that's underpinned by the pulse of the forest and propelled by roughneck riffs and phasing guitars. "Papa Jo" pays homage to an old departed friend from Kinshasa who threw the best parties in his ramshackle house. The delicious grime of "Suabala" hides a story of love, with levels of passion and guitars frolicking in the red. "Boloko" is slower, more ethereal, with its subversion of the sound of those angelic choirs of "saved" little African kids that were the pride of the missionaries. "Syria" tells you that there's no future in petrol wars, with music that's strangled, painful, urgent, tragic, with plenty of glorious distortion.

$34.50 IN STOCK

Double LP version. 180 gram vinyl; includes download code. A dark, thundering Kinshasa meets Paris soundworld. Ecstatic vocals, broken beats, subterranean bass and full-throttle energy. This four-piece group of sonic groundbreakers have delivered a scintillating debut album. Bantou Mentale was born in Chateau Rouge and born out of Matongé. Drummer and song-writer Cubain Kabeya -- originally from the DRC, now resident in Paris -- has been in or around every big thrill to come out of Kinshasa over the past decade: Staff Benda Bilili, Konono No.1, Jupiter & Okwess, Mbongwana Star. Guitarist Chicco Katembo was part of the Staff Benda Bilili story in the early days, before moving to Paris to live with his French mother. Singer Apocalypse is an ace face on the Parisian Congo scene, an alumnus of the orchestra of Koffi Olomide, emperor of contemporary Congolese soukous. Liam Farrell, aka Doctor L, born Irish, raised Parisian, is a musician, composer, and producer with an impressive score sheet that includes Assassin, FFF, Psycho on Da Bus, Tony Allen, Mbongwana Star, Babani Koné, Nneka, Les Amazones d'Afrique. The Bantou Mentale sound is neither traditional, nor slave to the all-encompassing tropes of Congolese rumba, nor slick and arty and self-consciously stylish. They're bringing something modern, raw, open to the world. Liam and Cubain have been distilling experimental mashes of electro African beats on-and-off for years, under names like Black Cowboys or Negro-P. The sound is a gleeful borderless up-cycling of all the urban styles that Paris, London, New York, Kinshasa have been doling out to the world these past two decades, combined into something new and purposeful. There are songs like "Zanzibar" and "Sango" that lament the clandestino stuck in the desert, penniless, screwed. And songs like "Chateau Rouge" that celebrate the wild uncertainty, the liberation, the fellowship of the migrant. "Boko Haram" bemoans the intellectual subservience and social servitude of many Africans, with music that's underpinned by the pulse of the forest and propelled by roughneck riffs and phasing guitars. "Papa Jo" pays homage to an old departed friend from Kinshasa who threw the best parties in his ramshackle house. The delicious grime of "Suabala" hides a story of love, with levels of passion and guitars frolicking in the red. "Boloko" is slower, more ethereal, with its subversion of the sound of those angelic choirs of "saved" little African kids that were the pride of the missionaries. "Syria" tells you that there's no future in petrol wars, with music that's strangled, painful, urgent, tragic, with plenty of glorious distortion.

$15.50 IN STOCK

BaBa ZuLa, the legendary ensemble from Istanbul, have brilliantly established themselves over the past two decades as the missing link between Turkish psych, krautrock, and dub-wise stylings. Derin Derin is the thrilling follow-up to their acclaimed retrospective XX (GB 042CD/LP, 2017), and finds the band more experimental and expansive than ever. On Derin Derin, BaBa ZuLa's first studio album since 2014, they create their art with beautiful eloquence and stinging passion. It takes wing and soars high; the instrumental portion of the disc grew out of music BaBa ZuLa were asked to record for a documentary about falcons. It grew, little by little, drawing together the elements that have been the heart of the band's sound throughout its existence: the rich wildness of Turkish psychedelia and the blinding, pure emotion that runs through traditional Anatolian music, tempered with the constant musical questing of the band's inspiration, krautrock pioneers Can, and the electro-dub experiments BaBa ZuLa has undertaken with producer Mad Professor. It's an utterly 21st century sound, where the voices are sometimes submerged, sometimes screaming loud to breaking through the noise. "U Are the Swing" is a track that carries particularly profound echoes of Can's late drummer, Jaki Liebezeit. The drum part was played by Ertel's children on a kit Liebezeit himself had modified, and Liebezeit sat in with BaBa ZuLa on many occasions. Those rhythms form the bedrock of BaBa ZuLa's sound, just as they were the foundation of the early Turkish psychedelia of the 1960s and '70s that has been a lifelong influence on Ertel. Psychedelia seeped into his soul and helped to frame his vision for BaBa ZuLa when he formed the band in 1996. And throughout their existence, they've kept their unique mix of electric saz and electric oud to give that double fretboard attack that's so markedly not Western. The psychedelic sound of BaBa ZuLa also feeds quite organically into dub. On "Eagle Got Wolf", for instance, phrases and riffs echo and hang suspended in the air as the bass dives and swoops, while plucked notes appear, only to flicker away again. Derin Derin melds the past into the present and sends it flying into the future. Derin Derin is fearless music. It's the truth. And there is hope.

$23.50 IN STOCK

LP version. 180 gram vinyl; includes download code. BaBa ZuLa, the legendary ensemble from Istanbul, have brilliantly established themselves over the past two decades as the missing link between Turkish psych, krautrock, and dub-wise stylings. Derin Derin is the thrilling follow-up to their acclaimed retrospective XX (GB 042CD/LP, 2017), and finds the band more experimental and expansive than ever. On Derin Derin, BaBa ZuLa's first studio album since 2014, they create their art with beautiful eloquence and stinging passion. It takes wing and soars high; the instrumental portion of the disc grew out of music BaBa ZuLa were asked to record for a documentary about falcons. It grew, little by little, drawing together the elements that have been the heart of the band's sound throughout its existence: the rich wildness of Turkish psychedelia and the blinding, pure emotion that runs through traditional Anatolian music, tempered with the constant musical questing of the band's inspiration, krautrock pioneers Can, and the electro-dub experiments BaBa ZuLa has undertaken with producer Mad Professor. It's an utterly 21st century sound, where the voices are sometimes submerged, sometimes screaming loud to breaking through the noise. "U Are the Swing" is a track that carries particularly profound echoes of Can's late drummer, Jaki Liebezeit. The drum part was played by Ertel's children on a kit Liebezeit himself had modified, and Liebezeit sat in with BaBa ZuLa on many occasions. Those rhythms form the bedrock of BaBa ZuLa's sound, just as they were the foundation of the early Turkish psychedelia of the 1960s and '70s that has been a lifelong influence on Ertel. Psychedelia seeped into his soul and helped to frame his vision for BaBa ZuLa when he formed the band in 1996. And throughout their existence, they've kept their unique mix of electric saz and electric oud to give that double fretboard attack that's so markedly not Western. The psychedelic sound of BaBa ZuLa also feeds quite organically into dub. On "Eagle Got Wolf", for instance, phrases and riffs echo and hang suspended in the air as the bass dives and swoops, while plucked notes appear, only to flicker away again. Derin Derin melds the past into the present and sends it flying into the future. Derin Derin is fearless music. It's the truth. And there is hope.

$15.50 IN STOCK

A celebrated instrumental supergroup featuring three of Bogotá's most visionary musicians: Eblis Alvarez (Meridian Brothers, Chúpame el dedo), Mario Galeano (Frente Cumbiero, Ondatropica), and Pedro Ojeda (Romperayo, Chúpame el dedo). Fusing the experimental possibilities of South American rhythms and sonics (cumbia, champeta, tropicalia, salsa, and more) with avant psych rock, dub minimalism, and spiked jazz, Los Pirañas are retro-futurism at its finest. The three members of Los Pirañas can all remember when they were in high school together in Bogotá, Colombia and just beginning to play music. Twenty-five years on and they've become internationally well-known musicians, spread across different bands, traversing multiple continents. Historia Natural, their third album, recaptures the spirit that moved them as teenagers. Although they'd played music together when young, Los Pirañas only came into being as a band in 2009. It gave them the chance to explore the complex vitality of Colombian rhythms mixed with Alvarez's unique blend of computer and guitar. Their debut release as Los Pirañas showcased the joys of "the trio format that was new to us," while the band's second release La Diversión Que Hacía Falta En Mi País (STAUB 145LP, 2017) came after a few years of touring. For their third outing they went searching for a nuanced naïveté and they found it, with Ojeda's adroit drumming and the muscular bass work of Mario Galeano of Frente Cumbiero fame, providing a solid anchor for the music. Together, the pair create a mighty tropical noise that frees up Alvarez for his guitar experiments. He's been working with computers and music for two decades, feeding his guitar through a laptop. Alvarez's guitar is a shapeshifter, constantly mutating sound and texture. It rarely sounds straight up, but there's never a doubt that someone is plucking the strings and bending the notes. Alvarez darts around and through the lines created by Ojeda and Galeano, leading or snapping at their heels. This is a band bristling with ideas, where the unspoken communication is so acute that all three of them can swerve together or turn on a dime. Their particular culture revolves very much around Colombia's capital, Bogotá, where they live and where they've always made music. A swirling, electric universe of music, created right in their own neighborhood. That's the real Historia Natural of Los Pirañas.

$23.50 IN STOCK

LP version. 180 gram vinyl; includes download code. A celebrated instrumental supergroup featuring three of Bogotá's most visionary musicians: Eblis Alvarez (Meridian Brothers, Chúpame el dedo), Mario Galeano (Frente Cumbiero, Ondatropica), and Pedro Ojeda (Romperayo, Chúpame el dedo). Fusing the experimental possibilities of South American rhythms and sonics (cumbia, champeta, tropicalia, salsa, and more) with avant psych rock, dub minimalism, and spiked jazz, Los Pirañas are retro-futurism at its finest. The three members of Los Pirañas can all remember when they were in high school together in Bogotá, Colombia and just beginning to play music. Twenty-five years on and they've become internationally well-known musicians, spread across different bands, traversing multiple continents. Historia Natural, their third album, recaptures the spirit that moved them as teenagers. Although they'd played music together when young, Los Pirañas only came into being as a band in 2009. It gave them the chance to explore the complex vitality of Colombian rhythms mixed with Alvarez's unique blend of computer and guitar. Their debut release as Los Pirañas showcased the joys of "the trio format that was new to us," while the band's second release La Diversión Que Hacía Falta En Mi País (STAUB 145LP, 2017) came after a few years of touring. For their third outing they went searching for a nuanced naïveté and they found it, with Ojeda's adroit drumming and the muscular bass work of Mario Galeano of Frente Cumbiero fame, providing a solid anchor for the music. Together, the pair create a mighty tropical noise that frees up Alvarez for his guitar experiments. He's been working with computers and music for two decades, feeding his guitar through a laptop. Alvarez's guitar is a shapeshifter, constantly mutating sound and texture. It rarely sounds straight up, but there's never a doubt that someone is plucking the strings and bending the notes. Alvarez darts around and through the lines created by Ojeda and Galeano, leading or snapping at their heels. This is a band bristling with ideas, where the unspoken communication is so acute that all three of them can swerve together or turn on a dime. Their particular culture revolves very much around Colombia's capital, Bogotá, where they live and where they've always made music. A swirling, electric universe of music, created right in their own neighborhood. That's the real Historia Natural of Los Pirañas.

$14.00 IN STOCK

BaBa ZuLa, legendary ensemble from Istanbul, present a follow-up to their career-spanning retrospective, XX (GB 042CD/LP). The three-track EP features exploratory versions of songs from their upcoming Glitterbeat album Derin Derin. "Kızıl Gözlüm (My Scarlet Eyed)" is psychedelic urban folk rock where the Turkish Huseini maqam is synched with synth drums. Two radical re-interpretations of "Kervan Yolda" are on the B side. Schneider TM (aka Dirk Dresselhaus) treats this road song in his own dark but playful manner, while resident engineer of BaBa ZuLa, Arastaman, pulls you deep into the wide-open space between the beats and the notes.

$15.50 IN STOCK

Fusing the rhythms and invocations of the ancient Saharan Banga ritual with an electrical storm of contemporary sonics, Ifriqiyya Electrique's second album both grips and awakens. In Tunisian, Banga means "huge volume" and one cannot think of a more apt description of Laylet El Booree than that: Maximalist and relentless; Blood, sweat, and trance. Several years ago, two of the musicians who make up the five-piece Ifriqiyya Electrique -- Gianna Greco and François R. Cambuzat -- ventured to the Djerid desert of Tunisia to investigate and confront the religious ritual of the Banga, a ritual of legendary intensity indigenous to the region. The musical duo's background is in the underground post-punk scene of continental Europe, as members of Putan Club and as collaborators with the venerable Lydia Lunch. But they are also voracious travelers and seekers of global sonics that are at least partially hidden from the western gaze. In 2017, Ifriqiyya Electrique released their debut album Rûwâhîne (GB 046CD/LP), an album which deftly brought together the hypnotic chants and metallic hand percussion of traditional Banga music with brutalist electronics and sheer rock volume. Three members of the Banga community -- Tarek Sultan, Yahia Chouchen, and Youssef Ghazala -- joined forces with Gianna and Francois not only on this acclaimed album, but also onstage throughout the eighteen months of touring that followed the record's release. It quickly became clear that the Banga had not been pointlessly retooled for western consumption, but rather through the deep commitment of the five Ifriqiyya Electrique musicians -- it had been transformed into something contemporary and unexpected. Ifriqiyya Electrique cryptically call this transformation a "post-industrial ritual" and the actual experience of hearing this music certainly echoes this moniker. The title of the second album Laylet El Booree translates as the "Night Of The Madness". It refers to the last part of the annual gathering of the adorcist ritual from the Banga of Tozeur -- it is the night when the spirits actually take possession of the bodies. With the band now joined by new member Fatma Chebbi (on vocals and tchektchekas hand percussion) one senses that the musical and cultural conversation is even deeper this time around. In fact, it doesn't feel like a speculative conversation at all, but rather something fully formed and undeniable. An emergent ritual in itself.

$23.50 IN STOCK

LP version. 180 gram vinyl; Includes download code. Fusing the rhythms and invocations of the ancient Saharan Banga ritual with an electrical storm of contemporary sonics, Ifriqiyya Electrique's second album both grips and awakens. In Tunisian, Banga means "huge volume" and one cannot think of a more apt description of Laylet El Booree than that: Maximalist and relentless; Blood, sweat, and trance. Several years ago, two of the musicians who make up the five-piece Ifriqiyya Electrique -- Gianna Greco and François R. Cambuzat -- ventured to the Djerid desert of Tunisia to investigate and confront the religious ritual of the Banga, a ritual of legendary intensity indigenous to the region. The musical duo's background is in the underground post-punk scene of continental Europe, as members of Putan Club and as collaborators with the venerable Lydia Lunch. But they are also voracious travelers and seekers of global sonics that are at least partially hidden from the western gaze. In 2017, Ifriqiyya Electrique released their debut album Rûwâhîne (GB 046CD/LP), an album which deftly brought together the hypnotic chants and metallic hand percussion of traditional Banga music with brutalist electronics and sheer rock volume. Three members of the Banga community -- Tarek Sultan, Yahia Chouchen, and Youssef Ghazala -- joined forces with Gianna and Francois not only on this acclaimed album, but also onstage throughout the eighteen months of touring that followed the record's release. It quickly became clear that the Banga had not been pointlessly retooled for western consumption, but rather through the deep commitment of the five Ifriqiyya Electrique musicians -- it had been transformed into something contemporary and unexpected. Ifriqiyya Electrique cryptically call this transformation a "post-industrial ritual" and the actual experience of hearing this music certainly echoes this moniker. The title of the second album Laylet El Booree translates as the "Night Of The Madness". It refers to the last part of the annual gathering of the adorcist ritual from the Banga of Tozeur -- it is the night when the spirits actually take possession of the bodies. With the band now joined by new member Fatma Chebbi (on vocals and tchektchekas hand percussion) one senses that the musical and cultural conversation is even deeper this time around. In fact, it doesn't feel like a speculative conversation at all, but rather something fully formed and undeniable. An emergent ritual in itself.

$23.50 IN STOCK

LP version. 180 gram vinyl; Includes download code. On the heels of their acclaimed album Tikounen (ZEP 032LP, 2016) -- a recording The Guardian called "a leap forward in the modern Tuareg sound... truly radical" -- Kel Assouf return with an even more transformative collection: Black Tenere. Produced by the band's keyboardist Sofyann Ben Youssef, the mastermind behind the highly touted AMMAR 808, the new album strips things back to a power trio lineup and focuses on the crackling, forward-looking energy of Nigerien front man Anana Ag Haroun's next level Kel Tamashek (Tuareg) rock songs. Kel Assouf's musical journey has flowed seamlessly from the well-spring created by Ishumar desert rock pioneers Tinariwen -- that Haroun first encountered as a young musician in Niger -- towards sonic horizons that include the rock classicism and the club beats and astral ambiance of European electronic music. On Black Tenere, the band pushes these different textures and influences towards a persuasive, raw-edged crescendo. The messages found in Ag Haroun's lyrics are potent, tragic, and inspiring in their defiance. The struggle of the stateless Kel Tamashek (a name they prefer to the colonial moniker "Tuareg") to maintain control of their ancestral lands, their dignity and their nomadic way of life, has only recently entered the fringes of Western consciousness. Infused into the sharp, unswerving social analysis, and the calls for resistance, there is also the shimmer of nostalgia and a poetry of deep longing. To record the energized soundscapes of Black Tenere, the trio (Ag Harouna plus drummer Oliver Penu and keyboardist/producer Sofyann Ben Youssef) setup at Stureparken Studio in Stockholm. Ben Youssef, a fast-rising producer responsible for the previous Kel Assouf album and recent records by Algerian rai provocateur Sofiane Sadi and AMMAR 808. The recordings brilliantly reflect the strong collective heart of the band -- each musician supporting the album's propulsive, hypnotic purposes -- yet on many occasions stepping forward in thrilling ways. "Alyochan" is unimaginable without the motorik pulse of Penu's trance-like drumming. Ben Youssef's Hammond organ creates a gorgeous defining space (and an unresolved tension) throughout the long intro of "Ariyal". While Ag Haroun's guitar is often wrapped in distortion, on "Tamatan" he pulls things back, and with the help of Enoesque treatments, his guitar feels star bound and weightless.

$15.50 IN STOCK

On the heels of their acclaimed album Tikounen (ZEP 032LP, 2016) -- a recording The Guardian called "a leap forward in the modern Tuareg sound... truly radical" -- Kel Assouf return with an even more transformative collection: Black Tenere. Produced by the band's keyboardist Sofyann Ben Youssef, the mastermind behind the highly touted AMMAR 808, the new album strips things back to a power trio lineup and focuses on the crackling, forward-looking energy of Nigerien front man Anana Ag Haroun's next level Kel Tamashek (Tuareg) rock songs. Kel Assouf's musical journey has flowed seamlessly from the well-spring created by Ishumar desert rock pioneers Tinariwen -- that Haroun first encountered as a young musician in Niger -- towards sonic horizons that include the rock classicism and the club beats and astral ambiance of European electronic music. On Black Tenere, the band pushes these different textures and influences towards a persuasive, raw-edged crescendo. The messages found in Ag Haroun's lyrics are potent, tragic, and inspiring in their defiance. The struggle of the stateless Kel Tamashek (a name they prefer to the colonial moniker "Tuareg") to maintain control of their ancestral lands, their dignity and their nomadic way of life, has only recently entered the fringes of Western consciousness. Infused into the sharp, unswerving social analysis, and the calls for resistance, there is also the shimmer of nostalgia and a poetry of deep longing. To record the energized soundscapes of Black Tenere, the trio (Ag Harouna plus drummer Oliver Penu and keyboardist/producer Sofyann Ben Youssef) setup at Stureparken Studio in Stockholm. Ben Youssef, a fast-rising producer responsible for the previous Kel Assouf album and recent records by Algerian rai provocateur Sofiane Sadi and AMMAR 808. The recordings brilliantly reflect the strong collective heart of the band -- each musician supporting the album's propulsive, hypnotic purposes -- yet on many occasions stepping forward in thrilling ways. "Alyochan" is unimaginable without the motorik pulse of Penu's trance-like drumming. Ben Youssef's Hammond organ creates a gorgeous defining space (and an unresolved tension) throughout the long intro of "Ariyal". While Ag Haroun's guitar is often wrapped in distortion, on "Tamatan" he pulls things back, and with the help of Enoesque treatments, his guitar feels star bound and weightless.

$23.50 IN STOCK

Ustad Saami's God Is Not A Terrorist is hypnotic, unvarnished recordings by one of Pakistan's most revered and iconic classical singers. The roots of Saami's music go back to the 13th century, but its message is contemporary and universal: "to sing is to listen." Produced by Grammy Award winner Ian Brennan, God Is Not A Terrorist is volume five of Glitterbeat's acclaimed Hidden Musics series. "75-year-old Ustad Saami risks his life daily in Pakistan to keep alive his microtonal, pre-Islamic, multilingual (Farsi, Sanskrit, Hindi, the ancient language of Vedic, gibberish, Arabic, and Urdu) music. Handed down by his ancestors for over a thousand years, he is the only practitioner of Surti left in the world; when he passes, this music will die with him. Extremists resent his work as they do anything else pre-dating Muhammad. In the land where Osama Bin last hid, Master Ustad Naseeruddin Saami has spent his entire life mastering the nuances of every given note. It has been said that India always had a region where all of the greatest singers came from; that place is Pakistan. "To sing is to listen." These are the words of the master. The translation of his last name, Saami, even means "to hear." For him, everything centers on one note. From that, all else grows and music is seen as a sixth sense for people to better communicate with each other. With great precision, Saami utilizes 49 notes versus the West's mere seven. The scale was founded by a mix-raced royal whose lifelong endeavor was to make peace with duality through art. This predecessor of qawwali music is called khayál, the Arabic word for "imagination"; in it the melody carries the meaning. The lyrics are almost incidental during these call-and-responses. It is the uneven pitches that the master values as being the most searching; those with even numbers are too stable. The master shapes the notes with his hands as he sings like conducting a Theremin. Most masters now hide their knowledge, possessively passing their skills down through family only. Subsequently, traditions have died and withered. Master Saami's mission is to share his knowledge with the world, so that the music may live on freely." --Ian Brennan. LP version; 180 gram vinyl, includes download.

$15.50 IN STOCK

Ustad Saami's God Is Not A Terrorist is hypnotic, unvarnished recordings by one of Pakistan's most revered and iconic classical singers. The roots of Saami's music go back to the 13th century, but its message is contemporary and universal: "to sing is to listen." Produced by Grammy Award winner Ian Brennan, God Is Not A Terrorist is volume five of Glitterbeat's acclaimed Hidden Musics series. "75-year-old Ustad Saami risks his life daily in Pakistan to keep alive his microtonal, pre-Islamic, multilingual (Farsi, Sanskrit, Hindi, the ancient language of Vedic, gibberish, Arabic, and Urdu) music. Handed down by his ancestors for over a thousand years, he is the only practitioner of Surti left in the world; when he passes, this music will die with him. Extremists resent his work as they do anything else pre-dating Muhammad. In the land where Osama Bin last hid, Master Ustad Naseeruddin Saami has spent his entire life mastering the nuances of every given note. It has been said that India always had a region where all of the greatest singers came from; that place is Pakistan. "To sing is to listen." These are the words of the master. The translation of his last name, Saami, even means "to hear." For him, everything centers on one note. From that, all else grows and music is seen as a sixth sense for people to better communicate with each other. With great precision, Saami utilizes 49 notes versus the West's mere seven. The scale was founded by a mix-raced royal whose lifelong endeavor was to make peace with duality through art. This predecessor of qawwali music is called khayál, the Arabic word for "imagination"; in it the melody carries the meaning. The lyrics are almost incidental during these call-and-responses. It is the uneven pitches that the master values as being the most searching; those with even numbers are too stable. The master shapes the notes with his hands as he sings like conducting a Theremin. Most masters now hide their knowledge, possessively passing their skills down through family only. Subsequently, traditions have died and withered. Master Saami's mission is to share his knowledge with the world, so that the music may live on freely." --Ian Brennan. LP version on 180 gram vinyl, includes download.