Dtknuckles
Well-Known Member
It's a great album. It's on my short list. I wonder what is driving this rediscovery of Japanese music by LITA. I hadn't heard about any of this music before.
World Music thread
- Thread starter Skalap
- Start date
It's a great album. It's on my short list. I wonder what is driving this rediscovery of Japanese music by LITA. I hadn't heard about any of this music before.
jduhb
New Member
I'm not sure but I'm glad they are doing it. I also like:
Kankyō Ongaku: Japanese Ambient, Environmental & New Age Music 1980-1990
Hiroshi Yoshimura - Music for 9 Postcards
I don't think they released Music for 9 Postcards but it's for sale on their website and that's how I ran across it.
Dtknuckles
Well-Known Member
almost ordered this one
they have a preorder up for this one, ordered
get into the music from Asia thread.
they have a preorder up for this one, ordered
get into the music from Asia thread.
phramenma
Well-Known Member
I'll be seeing those guys at Fusion next week - didn't know in which thread to put them, but this seems quite suitable:
afriquoi.bandcamp.com
Afriquoi
Live African dance music, fusing Congolese guitar + Gambian kora virtuosity with UK electronic sensibilities to create uplifting, dancefloor- friendly new music for a new generation of music fans.
afriquoi.bandcamp.com
surrealmadrid75
Member
Waitressboy
Well-Known Member
I'm not sure if this count as world music per se, but I want to share it anyway.
Acho Estol is one half of the tango band La Chicana; his solo work is not much tango but there's a tango influence there. His last album is full of collaborations, and it is a very cool mix of waltz, tango, cumbia, folklore and jazz. It's a mix of so many things that it has its own sound. It's fucking good.
Acho Estol is one half of the tango band La Chicana; his solo work is not much tango but there's a tango influence there. His last album is full of collaborations, and it is a very cool mix of waltz, tango, cumbia, folklore and jazz. It's a mix of so many things that it has its own sound. It's fucking good.
Waitressboy
Well-Known Member
This was a surprise: electronic music, but with a mix of music of north Argentina, Bolivia and Perú. Oh, and there's some cumbia too. It's a very interesting mix.
Skalap
Well-Known Member
He did a mix in Tulum for a Boiler Room a few years ago. I love to play this set when I am in a the right mood :
Skalap
Well-Known Member
Dtknuckles
Well-Known Member
This may be old new for the Euro contingent on here, but I just discovered Burna Boy on a podcast that was discussing the complications of the recent Queen B collaboration on the Lion King soundtrack.
That African Giant is worth your time
Podcast
www.switchedonpop.com
Album: the typical streaming platforms. (I've been banished form them at work because it bogs down my computer)
That African Giant is worth your time
Podcast
Beyonce’s Gift To Africa (with Ivie Ani) — Switched On Pop
For the live action remake of the Lion King, Beyoncé, (who voices Nala in the film), recorded and curated a companion soundtrack called The Gift . She worked with leading Afropop stars to expose the music of the continent to a global audience.
www.switchedonpop.com
Album: the typical streaming platforms. (I've been banished form them at work because it bogs down my computer)
Dtknuckles
Well-Known Member
Also want to recomend a local LA group's new album.
Quitapenas-Tigrada
They are a kind of pan-latin music band out of Riverside/LA lots of fun. Wishing I could post a ling, but you guys are adults. You can figure it out.
Quitapenas-Tigrada
They are a kind of pan-latin music band out of Riverside/LA lots of fun. Wishing I could post a ling, but you guys are adults. You can figure it out.
Skalap
Well-Known Member
Poly-Rythmo
Well-Known Member
Given I've just dropped €600 on African records this week...maybe!
Poly-Rythmo
Well-Known Member
Just sent a few links from this website to @Mather which reminded me to post it here. If anybody is interested into digging more into African or Latin music from the 1970s this website has been a great source of amazing music for me Global Groove Independent | preserving grooves from around the globe
Searching by country is particularly fruitful for me - I'd particularly recommend my favourite west African sounds of Ghana, Mali, Benin and Senegal while he posts extraordinary amounts from Colombia too. There's frankly too much stuff to go through all but it's a great resource when you find something you like and then can dive into more - it has plenty of Orchestre Poly-Rythmo and Orchestre Baobab, for instance, my two absolute favourites as well others such as Franco from Congo and African Brothers Band from Ghana.
Searching by country is particularly fruitful for me - I'd particularly recommend my favourite west African sounds of Ghana, Mali, Benin and Senegal while he posts extraordinary amounts from Colombia too. There's frankly too much stuff to go through all but it's a great resource when you find something you like and then can dive into more - it has plenty of Orchestre Poly-Rythmo and Orchestre Baobab, for instance, my two absolute favourites as well others such as Franco from Congo and African Brothers Band from Ghana.
Selaws
Well-Known Member
If anyones got a spare £100+ to drop on a 7", this super rare Ayalew Mesfin has popped up;
Ayalew-Mesfin-Teregew-Nebere
Ayalew-Mesfin-Teregew-Nebere
Poly-Rythmo
Well-Known Member
He's the seller I buy all my Ethiopian stuff from. He gets a lot of good stuff, often much more reasonably priced. I was going to bid on this one but it went out of my limit (and I'm in the Faroe Islands with bad Internet). BTW, in my (simple) brain I confuse him with you @Selaws as you're both Will, right?
Selaws
Well-Known Member
Oh damn, I've just leaked your dealer
Hahaha yeah, im Will too. Funnily enough I have bought a few records from this guy as well, mainly.......William onyeabor
Skalap
Well-Known Member
New Ostinato Records release available for pre-order : Pour Me A Grog: The Funaná Revolt in 1990s Cabo Verde
In the 1950s, a few young men, known as Badius, embarked on a nearly 2,500-mile (4000 km) journey from the northern rural interior of Cabo Verde’s Santiago Island to the island of São Tomé off the Atlantic coast of central Africa. Incredibly, they made the arduous journey not to earn a better living or send money back home — but to simply buy an accordion, locally known as a gaita. They would work years in harsh conditions to earn enough to buy the instrument and a few more years to buy a ticket back to Santiago.
Returning home, they slowly formed an elite class of self-taught gaita players who achieved a status similar to the griots of West Africa: venerated: wise elderly men archiving Badiu history in their diatonic button accordions. The gaita became the maximum expression of Badiu identity, one defined over centuries by a persistent culture of revolt and rebellion against domination and injustice. In a land lacking electricity, the acoustic instrument is king.
The gaita masters marriage to a hard-won instrument gave birth to raw Funaná music, undoubtedly a trans-Atlantic sibling of Colombian Cumbia. Hypnotic notes on aged accordions, tuned and flavored in ways found nowhere but Santiago, became infused with inviting baselines, raucous rhythms, blade-on-iron percussion and the bubbling lyricism and lament of the island’s finest ambassadors, their lyrics spoke of the trials of daily scarcity and playfully crafted whole metaphors within songs.
Their music was outlawed under colonial rule, with strict curfews monitored by the ever watchful eye of Portugal’s secret police to prevent gatherings since Funaná was dance music meant for large crowds, centered on one of the many star gaiteiros. Yet, naturally defiant, Badiu Funaná continued unfazed at the risk of arrest, detention, or worse.
Funaná remained an isolated style, largely an affair for Badiu ears only. But in 1991, Cabo Verde had its first democratic election. Elections are tricky business anywhere, let alone a state divided into several islands, each needing a tailored approach. Political parties found a novel solution, perhaps even a model, to successfully get their campaign messages out to large audiences with ears wide open: music festivals. Until today, Cabo Verde plays host to dozens of festivals a year, some sponsored by the government.
The music of the proud African interior became the soundtrack of choice at campaign rallies and music festivals. It drew large crowds, engaged the youth, kept people content, and undoubtedly won votes, setting the stage for traditional Funaná’s entry into the mainstream. But professional production and recording remained elusive.
Younger artists empowered by the politically-backed proliferation of Funaná in the early ‘90s began traveling inland to learn the trade secrets from the gaita griots, taking up the once maligned artform to counter what they saw as global pop sounds diluting Cabo Verdean output and preventing genuine local music from competing on the airwaves.
Another revolt was afoot, and in 1997, an “earthquake shook the country,” a Cabo Verdean newspaper wrote, when a group of youths, calling themselves Ferro Gaita, “dared to make a disc based on the gaita, ferrinho and bass guitar.” That best-selling first album -- 40,000 copies in a country of just 400,000 -- changed the entire trajectory of the country’s music.
Ferro Gaita’s success caught the attention of affluent producers based in Cabo Verde’s large European diaspora, namely Rotterdam. Widespread sentiment was to honor the old gaita masters from the small villages of Santiago by commercially publishing their work for the very first time, giving what was once hidden the bigger stage it deserved.
This compilation curates eight tracks from a short period in the late ‘90s when cherished pioneers, who risked everything to give their proud culture a sound, were finally put in recording studios; an album in itself a revolt in favor of the music of the most marginalized and once deliberately silenced.
Pour yourself a grog, the Cabo Verdean moonshine distilled from sugarcane crushed by bulls, imbibe responsibly, listen carefully, and dance recklessly.
Returning home, they slowly formed an elite class of self-taught gaita players who achieved a status similar to the griots of West Africa: venerated: wise elderly men archiving Badiu history in their diatonic button accordions. The gaita became the maximum expression of Badiu identity, one defined over centuries by a persistent culture of revolt and rebellion against domination and injustice. In a land lacking electricity, the acoustic instrument is king.
The gaita masters marriage to a hard-won instrument gave birth to raw Funaná music, undoubtedly a trans-Atlantic sibling of Colombian Cumbia. Hypnotic notes on aged accordions, tuned and flavored in ways found nowhere but Santiago, became infused with inviting baselines, raucous rhythms, blade-on-iron percussion and the bubbling lyricism and lament of the island’s finest ambassadors, their lyrics spoke of the trials of daily scarcity and playfully crafted whole metaphors within songs.
Their music was outlawed under colonial rule, with strict curfews monitored by the ever watchful eye of Portugal’s secret police to prevent gatherings since Funaná was dance music meant for large crowds, centered on one of the many star gaiteiros. Yet, naturally defiant, Badiu Funaná continued unfazed at the risk of arrest, detention, or worse.
Funaná remained an isolated style, largely an affair for Badiu ears only. But in 1991, Cabo Verde had its first democratic election. Elections are tricky business anywhere, let alone a state divided into several islands, each needing a tailored approach. Political parties found a novel solution, perhaps even a model, to successfully get their campaign messages out to large audiences with ears wide open: music festivals. Until today, Cabo Verde plays host to dozens of festivals a year, some sponsored by the government.
The music of the proud African interior became the soundtrack of choice at campaign rallies and music festivals. It drew large crowds, engaged the youth, kept people content, and undoubtedly won votes, setting the stage for traditional Funaná’s entry into the mainstream. But professional production and recording remained elusive.
Younger artists empowered by the politically-backed proliferation of Funaná in the early ‘90s began traveling inland to learn the trade secrets from the gaita griots, taking up the once maligned artform to counter what they saw as global pop sounds diluting Cabo Verdean output and preventing genuine local music from competing on the airwaves.
Another revolt was afoot, and in 1997, an “earthquake shook the country,” a Cabo Verdean newspaper wrote, when a group of youths, calling themselves Ferro Gaita, “dared to make a disc based on the gaita, ferrinho and bass guitar.” That best-selling first album -- 40,000 copies in a country of just 400,000 -- changed the entire trajectory of the country’s music.
Ferro Gaita’s success caught the attention of affluent producers based in Cabo Verde’s large European diaspora, namely Rotterdam. Widespread sentiment was to honor the old gaita masters from the small villages of Santiago by commercially publishing their work for the very first time, giving what was once hidden the bigger stage it deserved.
This compilation curates eight tracks from a short period in the late ‘90s when cherished pioneers, who risked everything to give their proud culture a sound, were finally put in recording studios; an album in itself a revolt in favor of the music of the most marginalized and once deliberately silenced.
Pour yourself a grog, the Cabo Verdean moonshine distilled from sugarcane crushed by bulls, imbibe responsibly, listen carefully, and dance recklessly.