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Swan Song

The vinyl LP at the heart of this éthiopiques 31 tracks 2 to 11 was one of the very last vinyl records ever released in Ethiopia. But above all it represents, we felt, the absolute masterpiece of the Ethiopian Groove – the Swan Song of Swinging Addis. The album leaves a clear idea for posterity of the level of sophistication and mastery that modern Ethiopian music had achieved, before being crushed under the Stalino-military heel of the Derg – as the bloody revolution that was unfolding came to be called.

Ethiopia1976.

The Revolution that broke out in February 1974 rolled on in a ruthless march. The whole of Ethiopian society was utterly stunned. The bouquets of flowers handed joyfully to the first tanks of the coup d'état were to wilt very rapidly. From September 1976 to February 1978, 18 months of Red Terror (the name given by the junta itself) spilled blood throughout the country. This fratricidal conflict took its heaviest toll among students and youth. The shift from feudalism to a cruel and primitive Stalinism left the country's citizens deeply traumatised, and snuffed out any pretence of activism, whatever the sector of society. This ice age was to last for seventeen long years.

ሙሉቀን፡መለሰ Mulukèn Mellèssè Muluqän Mälläsä

It was three tracks by Muluken that served as the opener for éthiopiques-1 more than 25 years ago. Seven more tracks appeared on éthiopiques-3 and 13, all accompanied by The Equators, which was soon to become the Dahlak Band.

The first track, Hédètch alu, also the very first piece that Muluken ever recorded, left audiences both unsettled and amazed. Reflecting the singer's extremely young age (he was just 17 at the time), this angelic voice mystified many, who thought they were in fact listening to a feminine voice. He was not yet 22 when he released his last vinyl record in 1976 with Kaifa Records (KF 39LP), one of the very last to be issued in Ethiopia, before the cassette tape became the dominant medium for music distribution – and before the new revolutionary regime put a stop to all independent musical life, via an unspeakable barrage of prohibitions and other persecutions.

Mulu qèn, literally, “A well filled day”. This tender maternal intention wasn't enough to ward off the cruelty of fate. His mother's premature death drove Muluken to leave his native Godjam, in northeast Ethiopia, to live with an uncle in Addis Ababa. Born Muluken Tamer, he took his uncle's last name – Mèllèssè.

The spelling Muluken appeared in his administrative records. Transcription of Amharic to the Latin alphabet, both in Ethiopia and for scholars, gives rise to controversies and quibbles that can never be neatly settled. French allows for a closer approximation of the original pronunciation, thanks to its battery of accent marks, confusing as they may be to anglophones.

Between rather accommodating administrative record-keepers and the various versions that pop up in interviews given by the artist, Muluken's year of birth oscillates between 1953 and 1955…

1954? One thing is certain: the artist's talent made itself known very early indeed, because he got his start in 1966-67, at the age of 13 or 14. Photos from the period attest to his extreme youth. It's a strange sort of initiation for a very young teenager to become a sensation in the heart of Addis's nightlife at the time, Woubé Bèrèha – the Wilds of Woubé. And what's more, in the club of the Queen of the Night, the Godjamé Assègèdètch Alamrèw herself, the very same that was portrayed by Sebhat Guèbrè-Egziabhér in his novel-memoir Les Nuits d’Addis Abeba2… The legendary female club owner who is remembered to this day by the capital's ageing boomers.

Muluken first tried his hand at the drums, before he grabbed the microphone. He emigrated briefly to the Zula Club, across the street from the old Addis Post Office, one of the ground-breaking bars of the burgeoning musical scene, before joining the Second Police Band in 1968, for around three years. He spent a few months with the short-lived Blue Nile Band founded by saxophonist Besrat Tammènè. As the musical scene grew increasingly successful, and pulled slowly but decisively away from its institutional ties, Muluken released his first 45rpm single in February 1972 (Amha Records AE 440). It was included in two LP Ethiopian Hit Parade compilation albums in September of the same year. All in all, Muluken released eight two-track 45s and the same number of original cassette tapes between February 1972 and 1984, the year that he departed for permanent exile in the USA. After converting to Pentecostalism in 1980, Muluken gradually abandoned all secular musical activity. In 1985, at the end of a concert in Philadelphia, he decided to quit concerts and recording for good. Mèlakè Gèbré, the historic bass player from the Walias band who was playing with him that night, recalls that everything appeared so irredeemably diabolical in Muluken's eyes, that it was to be the end of his contribution to Ethiopian Groove.

The end of the story, the beginning of a legend.

Dahlak Band, forgotten by History

Aside from his personal history and vocal talents, it must be remembered that Muluken Mèllèssè was one of the biggest names in the musical innovations that marked the end of the imperial period. These éthiopiques aim to convince those who are just discovering this hidden gem... As for Ethiopians themselves, they are to this day captivated by this singular and atypical figure in the Abyssinian pop landscape – even though he withdrew from public life some 40 years ago. Incorrigible devotees of poetic twists, of more or less hidden meanings, Ethiopians appreciate above all the care Muluken took in choosing his lyrics and the writers who penned them, such as Feqerte Haylou, Alemtsehay Wodajo and, here, Shewalul Mengistu (1944-1977). Love songs, written by women, a far cry from the conventional drivel that pleases sappy sentimentalists.

Muluken is equally acclaimed for his perfectionism when it came to music, the opposite of the overly casual approach that is all too common. He remained a faithful partner of musicians who came from a lineage that borrowed from several inventive and pioneering bands (Venus, Equators, Dahlak). Amongst them were certain artists who began their musical lives with Nersès Nalbandian at the Haile Sellassie Theatre and who come of age in around 1973 – at just the wrong time, you might say. Among them were the pillars Shimèlis Bèyènè (trumpet), Dawit Yifru (keyboards) and Tilayé Gèbrè (sax & flute). Most notably Tilayé Gèbrè, certainly one of the most important musicians, composers and arrangers of his generation, of the end of the imperial era, and of the early years of the Derg.

It was only in 1981 that a miraculous opportunity arose for Tilayé to escape the Stalinist paradise of the dictator Menguistou Haylè-Maryam. Once again it was Amha Eshèté (1946-2021) who provided a solution. The spirited and courageous producer, who had been in exile in Washington since 1975, succeeded, thanks to his incredible perseverence, in bringing the Walias Band to the USA. It was, in fact an extended Walias Band comprising ten musicians3, six of whom chose to slip away after a few concerts and the recording of an LP (The Best of Walias, WRS 100). Tilayé Gèbrè was one of these. He has been living in the USA ever since. There he joined the then-nascent Ethiopian diaspora, which lived largely unto itself, and was making only very modest headway in the American musical market. It seems unfair that Tilayé Gèbrè and the Dahlak Band were not able to benefit earlier from the public recognition that they do deserve.

A similar draining away of the top-rate talents would lead to the reorganization of the major groups of the “Derg Time”. The remaining artists spread themselves around between Ibex Band (renamed Roha Band), Ethio Star Band and a remodeled Walias Band. That spelled the end of the Dahlak Band.

With this record, produced by the essential Ali Abdella Kaifa a.k.a. Ali Tango, we can appreciate everything that the Derg not only destroyed, but also prevented from flourishing. This gem of Ethiopian-style afrobeat came out in 1976 (and, by way of a parenthesis, before the FESTAC 1977 in Lagos, which was attended by an impressive delegation of Ethiopian musicians — although Fela was already personna non grata in his own country). Despite everything that might distinguish this ethio-groove from Fela’s music – no colonial axe to grind, no question of political confrontation with the authorities, no claims to negritude or Africanism for the Ethiopian musicians, and less extrovertion! –, this LP fits beautifully into the saga of intense and electrified soul of the new “African” groove that Fela and Manu Dibango embodied so well from that point onwards.

In restoring this record to its place in the afrobeat epic, it can be seen that, if nothing else, the timeline bestows a legitimate pedigree and a historical primacy to works that had no international impact when they were originally released.

Warning! Masterpiece!

A journey, in 16 tracks, through the career of this pioneer band of the Latin American Punk 'n' Roll scene, active since 1987 and founded in the city of Quilmes (Argentina). Punk 77, Street Punk and Punk 'n' Roll on glorious vinyl and for the first time in Europe. DESCRIPTION Doble Fuerza is a pioneering band of the Latin American punk 'n' roll scene that has been active since 1987 (hence the title of the LP). Founded in the city of Quilmes (Argentina), south of the Buenos Aires metropolitan area, they have built their own recognizable sound, influenced by punk 77, street punk and punk 'n' roll. For the first time in Europe, on a long-playing record, on glorious vinyl, 16 tracks that represent a detailed tour through Doble Fuerza's 35-year career, remastered for the occasion. The result is most entertaining and activating. Primitive sonorities of angry young men doing street-punk without concessions in "Disturbios" Riots and "La Vida Se Va" Life Goes, give way to heartfelt street love in a hard-power-pop vein ("¿Por Qué No Me Llamas?" [Why Don't You Call Me?], "Encontrarte" [Find You], "Sola" [Alone]) and Ramonesian essences in "Desocupado" [Unemployed]. And all of this leads to their personal punk 'n' roll sound with a Buenos Aires accent, i.e. punk-rock clearly influenced by punk 77 and the rock 'n' roll of the 50s and 60s. In "Leave Me Alone", "Anestesiado" [Anaesthetised], "Grito de Revolución" [Revolution Yell], "Almas Gemelas" [Twin Souls] and "Canción de Libertad" [Song of Revolution] you can sense some of the many bands of the three decades that are part of their wide musical background and that have served as teachers to forge their style. Nor do they forget the cheerful tavern hymns to sing loudly and to overcome the struggle and heartbreaks with good humor, "Otra Vuelta de Cerveza" [Another Round of Beer] and "El Rey del Fernet" [The King of Fernet]. The three covers of this collection deserve special mention. Three adaptations sung in Spanish that the quintet led by Hugo Irisarri makes totally their own: "Pibes de Barrio" (Cockney Rejects), "Laburando" (Cock Sparrer) and "Spanish Bombs" (The Clash). The accent may be different, but the situations, the sound references, the messages... become immediately familiar and recognizable. "1987" is a careful presentation letter on this side of the pond of the Argentinean band's wide repertoire that unites commitment, fun and enthusiasm in equal parts

Die Fackelträger der britischen Gitarrenmusik, The Vaccines - Justin Young (Leadgesang, Gitarren), ÁrniÁrnason (Bass, Gesang), Timothy Lanham
(Gitarren, Tasten, Gesang) und Yoann Intonti (Schlagzeug) - sind zurück mit ihrem sechsten Studioalbum Pick-Up Full of Pink Carnations. Der Titel
stammt von einem Text aus Don McCleans "American Pie", einem Song, der für Young den Tod der Unschuld und des amerikanischen Traums
beschwört. Nachdem er nach Los Angeles gezogen war - eine Stadt, in der die Band aufgewachsen ist, war er gezwungen, sich mit der
Desillusionierung auseinanderzusetzen, die auftritt, wenn Erwartungen, Träume und Realität nicht übereinstimmen. Doch obwohl Pick-UpFull of Pink
Carnations ein Album über die Versöhnung mit dem Verlust ist, ist es auch voller Dankbarkeit für die Menschen und Orte, die wir einst geliebt haben.

Repress! We at Now-Again unearthed so much information about the bands that recorded the definitive disco and modern soul contained in our recently launched Soul Cal anthology that we decided we had no choice but to release an album and a book at the same time. Well, following that line, the music contained on Loving On The Flip Side music is too damn good to be anonymously relaunched, decades after musical visionaries blended the best of heavy funk and sweet soul into a unified whole. And simply telling the stories of these vocalists and bands without allowing their lovelorn pleas to be heard again wasn’t an option. Thus, Loving On The Flip Side again offers the enthused a chance to listen to, read about and reflect on another great burst of black American creativity: the creation of the sublime
genre we like to call “sweet funk.”
It seems laughable to skip past Thomas East’s “Slipping Around” 7” for the cheesy funk of ‘Just A Trip,” or to listen obsessively to Lou Ragland’s instrumental funk on the Hot Chocolate LP and ignore his indolent-yet-stirring “We Had True Love.” Yet we did just that, until we first heard the Darling Dears and Funky Heavy’s beautiful
two-sider nearly ten years back. This was the record that set Loving On The Flip Side in motion, as the Darling Dears and Funky Heavy’s two songs precipitated the sweet funk genre: the dichotomy of Funky Heavy’s skull snapping rhythm section and the teenage Dears’ angelic harmonies didn’t sound like anything we’d heard before. That discovery set off a decade long search for the band and culminated in their discovery, the documenting of their stories, the emergence of their master tapes and the inclusion of their songs on Loving On The Flip Side.
The excitement we felt while listening to the Darling Dears and Funky Heavy’s masterworks forced us back into the field, in search of other sweet funk swooners and beat-heavy ballads to round out this anthology. The opportunity to present anew such wondrous soul music made the exhaustive process that produced Loving On The
Flip Side worthwhile, and allowed us to collect one-offs that escaped prior investigations into the deep funk and sweet soul genres.

Clear Black Swirl Vinyl! "Are they black?" fragte Iggy Pop, als er sich das erstmals 2006 veröffentlichte Album der BLACK ANGELS zum ersten Mal in das Trommelfell schraubte. Mitnichten, aber trotzdem eine berechtigte Frage. Denn wann hatte man zuletzt solch ,bluesy pools of garage-scum shame mongering" (SPIN Magazine) gehört, wenn nicht wenigstens ein Schwarzer in der Band für den Sound verantwortlich war? Aus dem tiefsten Texas kommt dieses Quintett, das sich im Mai 2004 fand und knappe zwei Jahre später ein Debütalbum auf den Tisch legte, dass Schlagzeilen wie "The Black Angels could be your new favorite band" (Splendid) oder ,This is an advance warning: you will want to claim early ownership of the Black Angels." (Sydney Morning Herald) erntete. Inspiriert vom psychedelischen Sound der 60er Jahre, verloren sich THE BLACK ANGELS auf "Passover" nicht in unendlichen Drone-Schleifen sondern zelebrierten ihren selbsternannten Native American Drone'n'Roll in angenehm relaxter aber immer wieder aufs neue spannender Atmosphäre. Eben neuzeitlicher Psychedelic Rock mit einem konstant primitiven Beat, der den Spirit der 13TH FLOOR ELEVATORS und der frühen STONES wieder aufleben ließ.

Clear Black Swirl Vinyl! "Are they black?" fragte Iggy Pop, als er sich das erstmals 2006 veröffentlichte Album der BLACK ANGELS zum ersten Mal in das Trommelfell schraubte. Mitnichten, aber trotzdem eine berechtigte Frage. Denn wann hatte man zuletzt solch ,bluesy pools of garage-scum shame mongering" (SPIN Magazine) gehört, wenn nicht wenigstens ein Schwarzer in der Band für den Sound verantwortlich war? Aus dem tiefsten Texas kommt dieses Quintett, das sich im Mai 2004 fand und knappe zwei Jahre später ein Debütalbum auf den Tisch legte, dass Schlagzeilen wie "The Black Angels could be your new favorite band" (Splendid) oder ,This is an advance warning: you will want to claim early ownership of the Black Angels." (Sydney Morning Herald) erntete. Inspiriert vom psychedelischen Sound der 60er Jahre, verloren sich THE BLACK ANGELS auf "Passover" nicht in unendlichen Drone-Schleifen sondern zelebrierten ihren selbsternannten Native American Drone'n'Roll in angenehm relaxter aber immer wieder aufs neue spannender Atmosphäre. Eben neuzeitlicher Psychedelic Rock mit einem konstant primitiven Beat, der den Spirit der 13TH FLOOR ELEVATORS und der frühen STONES wieder aufleben ließ.

On High Flying Man, the third LP by Matt Berry’s pseudo-eponymous project The Berries, loss and desire take center stage. Berry delves deep into 21st century malaise, crafting densely layered songs which project an unshakable yearning for deliverance from the world’s shortcomings. Each track extends an outstretched palm towards universal connection, blending a complex of mix of pop hooks, rock swagger, and psychedelia into dejected populist anthems. Faced with the perils of an isolating world, High Flying Man reignites the tradition of great American songwriting, speaking in the voice of the longing masses. At heart, Berry demands more life, rejecting both arty cynicism and nostalgic escapism.

Berry cut his teeth at a young age playing in the bands Happy Diving (Topshelf Records) and Big Bite (Pop Wig), and has since regularly served as a touring member for bands like Angel Dust and Dark Tea. His early work with Happy Diving and Big Bite solidified his position as an upcoming star in the world of fuzzed-out indie rock, earning him tours and opening slots with the likes of Turnstile, Dinosaur Jr., Nothing, The Swirlies, and The Coathangers. With The Berries, however, Berry turns the Big Muffs down (although not off), creating sonic space to stretch his wings as a burgeoning pop songwriter. The psychedelic-surrealist textures of his earlier output are not gone, per say, but rather find themselves folded into more expansive, rock-oriented arrangements, becoming accoutrements as opposed to the driving force of each song itself.

High Flying Man follows The Berries’ previous releases, 2018’s Start All Over Again and 2019’s Berryland. While longtime listeners will undoubtedly recognize Berry’s disaffected drawl and melodic sensibility, High Flying Man’s complex arrangements and expansive sonic landscape place it well apart from its predecessors. Berry enlisted live band members Danny Paul (drums), Emma Danner (backing vocals), and Lance Umble (bass) during the recording of High Flying Man, as well as the mixing talents of Rob Schnapf (Elliott Smith, Beck, Guided by Voices), breaking from the self-produced home recording ethos of the previous Berries LPs. The collaborative nature of High Flying Man’s recording process is reflected in the quality of each song’s arrangement. Freed from the pressure of being individually responsible for every detail committed to tape, Berry was able to focus his attention more fully on the creative demands of constructing a dynamic and cohesive record. High Flying Man pivots away from any sort of obvious nod to Americana tropes, baggy British attitude, or Neil Young-esque riffing, leaning head on into a lush, idiosyncratic grandeur.

Each track evokes the irreverent and flashy style of a songwriting voice finding itself for the first time. Berry’s guitar heroics extend towards new heights, channeling the simple pop mastery of Lindsay Buckingham (“Prime”) and the wicked emotion of a 21st century “November Rain” (“High Flying Man”). Unusual stylistic juxtapositions give certain songs an almost timeless quality: Bert Jansch-esque crooning finds its counterpoint in sweeping, distortion-soaked riffs (“A Drop of Rain”), the primitive rhythms of Amon Duul are given an arena-sized, Britpop facelift (“Life’s Blood”). On High Flying Man, however, the ballad reigns supreme. “Down That Road Again” drips with sentimentality, powered by soft, undeniable pop melodies and pared-down chord progressions. Album-centerpiece “Eagle Eye” teeters between pure grace and extreme sorrow, unfolding into a massive, immediately memorable tide of melancholic beauty.

Lyrically, High Flying Man is both simple and direct. Although often bitter about the state of the world, Berry has no overtly political axe to grind. In some instances, he takes jabs at the moral laziness of aging millennials, expressing his yearning for a return to vitality and conviction (“Prime”). In other instances, Berry turns his criticism inwards, examining his longing for a better life and his repeated tendency to self-sabotage (“Down That Road Again”). These two poles balance each other out, creating a thematic tenor which is more so self-implicating and empathetic than critical. If anyone is to blame, it is the world we have been saddled with, not the people left to pick up its pieces. Although often personal, Berry’s words evoke a universal experience of continued belief in the face of loss. “High Flying Man” chronicles the growing distance between Berry and an old friend who has been shipwrecked by the weight of trauma, evoking the sorrow of trying to love someone who is no longer able to keep up with reality. Even the most somber passages of “Eagle Eye” (“long before I become aware of it, my friend/it’s 6 AM and I’m gonna die”) find their redemption in a burning devotion towards something worth living for (“If there’s one thing I can depend on/it’s my old friend/my shining light/my eagle eye”).

With High Flying Man, Matt Berry embraces undying love in the face of isolation. Daring to want more life becomes a spiritual rallying cry against a world that has failed to make life either meaningful or beautiful. At their core, these songs are not about revolution, but they are about the faith that gives something like revolution a purpose in the first place.

American composer and multi-instrumentalist Alvin Curran has remained one of the great emblems of experimental music for the last half-century. In 1966, along with Frederic Rzewski and Richard Teitelbaum, Curran co-founded Musica Elettronica Viva, a seminal gesture in collective free improvisation. In the early '70s, his solo work would become a crucial bridge between minimalist traditions on both sides of the Atlantic.

Canti E Vedute Del Giardino Magnetico, Curran's solo debut, was recorded by the artist himself and issued on Ananda, the small Italian imprint started by Curran and fellow composers Giacinto Scelsi and Roberto Laneri. The piece itself was put together in the winter of 1973 and presented for the first time at Teatro Beat 72 (Rome's The Kitchen).

Encouraged by the work of Terry Riley, La Monte Young, Charlemagne Palestine and Simone Forti, Curran binds the listener to aberrant notions of place and time: blending field recordings (wind, high-tension wires, beach waves, etc.) with simple and often primitive instruments. Across two sidelong tracks, Giardino Magnetico forms a lyrical collage of synthesizer, glass and metal chimes, plastic tubes, brass and the composer's alluring voice - converging in an immersive realm of Curran's inner / outer experiences.

This first-time vinyl reissue is recommended for fans of Harry Bertoia, Michel Redolfi and Lino Capra Vaccina.

Tompkins Square present the debut full-length by Welsh multi-instrumentalist, Gwenifer Raymond. Hailing from Cardiff and now residing in Brighton in the South of England, Raymond began playing guitar at the age of eight. Tompkins Square released her debut 7" on Record Store Day.

In Gwenifer's own words :

When I was about eight years old a pretty formative thing happened to me ... my mum bought me a cassette tape of Nirvana's Nevermind. Being so young I'd had no real interest in music prior to that, but I did have a 'My First Sony' cassette player that I used to listen to audiobooks. Anyway, I put the tape in, pressed play, and what I heard blew my little 8 year old mind. I don't know what it was about that wall of sound that so captured me, but I spent many hours hyperactively running around the house with headphones on, volume at full blast, and Nevermind on repeat. It was either for Christmas or my birthday that year, that I asked for a guitar.

I spent all my teenage years playing either guitar or drums in various punk and rock outfits around the Welsh valleys, but around that time I was also getting seriously into older stuff, Dylan, The Velvet Underground and the like. Through those cheap compilation CDs you could get then, I found that a common influence amongst these guys was pre-war delta and country blues, as well as Appalachian music. Eventually I stumbled upon Mississippi John Hurt, Skip James and Roscoe Holcomb, and they became the holy trinity of musicians I so wanted to able to play like. Eventually, I tracked down a blues man in Cardiff who could teach me and it was in studying these guys that I was introduced to John Fahey and the whole American Primitive thing.

I've always loved being in bands and the sonic chemistry it produces, but at the same time it's always a bit of a compromise that those sounds in my head have to pass through and be translated by someone else's. Sometimes it can be for the better, but sometimes not so much. American Primitive was the first time it had occurred to me that you didn't really need anything more than one solo instrument to fully express yourself, especially when those feelings and moods refuse to be articulated in words, sometimes it's a mystery to yourself what it is you're expressing. I still play in hard rock and punk bands and love to wail and hit my guitar with a complete lack of any subtlety or nuance, but in the end I think that all these things are really part of a circle, feeding back into itself. It's all just a lineup of strange mutations.