The Monthly Playlist Revue: February 2024
February 29, 2024
ALL THE CHOICE MUSIC FROM THE LAST MONTH

Let’s keep this short and get straight to the action, with the musical journey we’ve created for you. From the Monolith Cocktail TEAM (that’s me, Dominic Valvona, plus Matt Oliver and Brian Bordello Shea) all the choice music from February on one exceptional, eclectic playlist.
:::TRACKLIST:::
Bab L’ Bluz ‘Imazighen’
Liraz ‘Bia Bia – Reeperbahn Festival Collide Session’
Trio Rosario ‘Cuande Me Muera’
Masta Ace & Marco Polo ‘Certified’
Your Old Droog w/ Roman Streetz ‘Northface With The ACGs’
clipping. ‘Tipsy’
Bostjan Simon ‘Bebey’
Vatannar & G.A.M.S. ‘Aminat Pt. 4’
Will C. ‘Colossal Pound Cake Break’
Yamin Semali ‘Boo Boo The Fool’
Juga-Naut ‘Shampain’
Revival Season ‘Chop’
Willie Evans Jr. ‘Bargaining’
Nowaah The Flood & Giallo Point ‘No Speculation’
Black Milk ‘In The Sky’
mui zyu ‘The Mould’
Ariel Kalma, Jeremiah Chiu and Marta Sofia Honer ‘Stay Centered’
OdNu + Umlaut ‘Kaizen’
Louis Carnell & Wu-Lu ‘Eight’
Madeleine Cocolas ‘Bodies II’
Otis Sandsjo ‘OOMY’
David Liebe Hart & Jason The Cat ‘I Believe In The Unknown’
Kahil El’Zabar’s Ethnic Heritage Ensemble ‘Open Me’
Confucius MC, Pitch 92 & Jehst ‘Days Hours Minutes’
Dr. Syntax & Gotcha ‘The Urge’
Sly Moon ‘Aces Baby’
Reef The Lost Cauze ‘Umar’s Revenge’
Renelle 893 & Bay29 ‘Art Thief’
Kingmakers Of Oakland ‘Too Long’
Kemastry, Jazz T & Ramson Badbonez ‘Apocalyptic Flows’
Dyr Faser ‘Bronze’
Ryann Gonsalves ‘Lost & Found’
Oliver Birch ‘On Our Hill’
BMX Bandits ‘Time To Get Away’
DAAY ‘Follower’
Maria Arnqvist ‘Rubies And Gold’
The Children’s Hour ‘Dance With Me’
The Pheromoans ‘Faith In The Future’
Boeckner ‘Euphoria’
epic45 ‘Be Nowwhere’
James jonathan Clancy ‘Black & White’
Flowertown ‘The Ring’
twin coast ‘Forget To Know’
The Legless Crabs ‘Stuckist Manifestos In The Western World’
The Deli, Moka Only & Baptiste Hayden ‘Fivefourthreetwoone’
Ol’ Burger Beats ‘For The Family FT. Awon’
Da Flyy Hooligan, D-Styles ‘Gallery Oasis’
Spectacular Diagnostics ‘1000 Heartbeats’
Kalporz X Monolith Cocktail: (Review) James Jonathan Clancy ‘Sprecato’
February 22, 2024
REVIEW FROM OUR FRIENDS AT Kalporz
AUTHORED BY Matteo Maioli – TRANSLATED BY Dominic Valvona
PHOTO CREDIT: Luca Mazzieri

Continuing our successful collaboration with the leading Italian music publication Kalporz , the Monolith Cocktail shares and translates reviews, interviews and other bits from our respective sites each month. Keep an eye out for future ‘synergy’ between our two great houses as we exchange posts during 2024 and beyond. This month regular Kalporz scribe Matteo Maioli reviews the latest album by James Jonathan Clancy on his own Maple Death label.
After the experiences with His Clancyness, A Classic Education, Settlefish and Brutal Birthday and seven years after his last album , the Italian-Canadian James Jonathan Clancy returns with the first album under his own name, released earlier in February by label he founded Maple Death Records.
Sprecato (which translates from Italian into “wasted”), written and recorded between Bologna and London at intervals between 2018 and 2023, presents the first of a visual and graphic collaboration with Michelangelo Setola – borne in an exchange of suggestions between the two artists through music and drawing, in the sharing of an almost apocalyptic idea of ”urban pastoral” with marginality, exploitation and alienation of the individual at its centre.
Across eleven tracks our many musical souls converge, from the role of the cosmic loner folk in “I Want You” to those of the avant-garde on “To Be Me”. But also bucolic minimalism in the opener “Castle Night”, no-wave bathed in electronics for “A Worship Deal” – which fuses together Cabaret Voltaire and Pop Group -, and psychedelia on the splendid “Had It All” – between Tim Hardin and Flying Saucer Attack. Dreamlike dilations combined with Walkerian lyricism thus traces a line of demarcation crossed by a Clancy in constant emotional transport. The setlist effectively alternates imaginative songs that occupy space and then immobilise it, see “Precipice”, with soundtracks from a primordial world (“Fortunate”, the Radioheadian Amnesiac heights of “Immense Immense Wild”).
To complete Sprecato Clancy brought together a cast of friends and international guests including Stefano Pilia, co-producer of the album and true right-hand man of the operation (like a Warren Ellis for Nick Cave perhaps?), Andrea Belfi on drums, Enrico Gabrielli of Calibro 35 and Afterhours fame on flutes and Francesca Bono on both piano and vocals, whilst the core of the band is formed by the Maple Death house musicians Dominique Vaccaro (guitars, aka JH Guraj), Andrea De Franco (synths, Fera) and Kyle Knapp (sax, of Cindy Lee). The curiosity is all about the live performance now, because the album easily ranks among the most successful things in James Jonathan Clancy’s decade, and more, spanning career.
SCORE: 81/100
THE MONTHLY DIGEST OF ACCUMULATED NEW MUSIC, THE SOCIAL INTER-GENERATIONAL/ECLECTIC AND ANNIVERSARY ALBUMS CELEBRATING PLAYLIST, AND ARCHIVE MATERIAL CHOSEN BY DOMINIC VALVONA

Continuing a series that started in 2023, the Digest is my one-stop column of the new and the old; a secondary home to all those releases I missed out on or didn’t get room to feature in either my Perusal reviews features or singular Our Daily Bread posts, plus a chance to celebrate timely anniversary albums and dip into my own record collection with the a special anything goes playlist, and to, finally, dip into the Monolith Cocktail Archives.
The New: this will be a briefing of a sort, with a short outline, thoughts and reactions to a number of recent albums from my inbox – currently a 1000+ releases a month on average!
The Social Playlist: choice music collected from across the ages, borders and genres, with a smattering of tracks from choice anniversary celebrating albums of worth and cult status. Consider it my unofficial radio show. The Archives: self-explanatory, but each month I chose past pieces from the extensive Monolith Cocktail back pages that have a timely ring to them.
___/NEW\___
Mohammad Syfkhan ‘I Am Kurdish’
(Nyahh)
To do justice to the backstory (one that’s filled with tragedy and yet musically inspiring) of the Syrian-Kurdish surgical nurse and musician-artist Mohammad Syfkhan, I’d need far more room. But in brief, the heralded ‘bouzouki’ (a round bodied, with flat top, long-necked lute with resonating and sharp metal strings strummed and picked with a plectrum, that was brought to Greece from Anatolian refugees) maestro and singer was forced to abandon his family’s home in the city of Raqqa during the senseless apocalyptic Syrian civil war. As various fractions fought against the Assad regime, Islamist’s most feared and brutal cult, ISIS, swooped in and proclaimed that atavistic Euphrates located city their capital: the centre of operations and a new sickening, destructive caliphate. As a minority Kurd, Syfkhan was already in danger, but when one of his son’s was murdered by the terror group, they had to join the growing diaspora of Syrians fleeing the country and region to escape persecution (by not only ISIS but Assad too); splitting the family between Germany and Ireland, where Syfkhan, his wife and young daughter were kindly taken in.
Poured into his debut album (although he started his own band The Al-Rabie Band decades ago back in Syria; and a very popular, sought-after troupe they were too) that loss and upheaval is balanced with certain joyous and romantic gusto. Longing for home mostly certainly, and yet making a new life in his adopted Leitrim sanctuary on the River Shannon; in the moment, spreading the traditional and more contemporary music of his Kurdish and Syrian roots whilst also collaborating with those native musicians and those that have also made that same Irish village their home too (including on this stunning album the composer, improviser, sound artist and saxophonist Cathal Roche, and the composer, improviser and cellist Eimear Reidy).
Like a ascending stairway, or flowing and resonating with evocative melodies magic, lute stirring ruminations sweep over Arabia and surrounding regions; referencing anonymous, collective and some original-penned compositions and dances to Islam’s ‘golden age’ of fairytale (‘A Thousand And One Nights’), Kurdish pride in the face of repression (the title-track of course) and its peoples’ struggle for independence and respect (‘Do Not Bow’), lovelorn enquires (‘Do You Have A Lover Or Not?’), and the missed daily activities, interactions of life back home in Raqqa Across it all the hand drums tab, rattle and roll; the cello arches, weeps and bows in sympathy; and the bouzouki lute swoons and rings out the most nimble and beautiful of ached and more up-tempo giddy tunes. There’s a real weight and energy at times, balanced out with slower emotional reflections; but when they go, they go! All the while you can trace the lineage, the scope of the sound back to the Middle East, to old Anatolia, more modern Turkey, and even the Hellenic; and from weddings parties to the courtly, to the caravan trails and souk. I couldn’t recommend this album enough; already sitting as it does in my favourite choice releases of 2024.
epic45 ‘You’ll Only See Us When The Light Has Gone’
(Wayside And Woodland)
With enervated and evaporated applied washes, and drifting along with a certain despondency, Ben Holton and Rob Glover’s long-running – but due to circumstances beyond their control, interrupted – epic45 project finds much to cover; from Brexit to the lunacy of the housing ladder; the parental cliques of the school gates to the death-by-a-thousands-cuts decline of England’s rural and seaside towns.
Already, unbelievably, four years since the last album (finding a favourable audience at this blog) Cropping The Aftermath (released during the height, more or less, of the Covid pandemic), You’ll Only See Us When The Light Has Gone arrives in the wake of setbacks – from the repercussions of both Brexit and Covid on touring (with the band’s Japanese tour cancelled, but also, Europe for us Brits, no longer part of the free-movement agreement, becoming a major pain-in-the-arse to circumnavigate) – to the on-going issues of Holton’s severe back problems.
But persist they did, and went away to produce this idiosyncratic take on the modern life is rubbish (and expensive) idiom. This is a resigned but rallying push back against life in, what they call, the ‘edgleland’, the ‘nowhere places’; pushed out onto the peripherals of society and inclusion. The very English preoccupations of owning a home permeate, from the ill-planned ‘floodplain’ sites that many are forced to accept, to the grander housing development promises of ‘stepping stones to country homes’. But this is a wider statement on a nation in crisis, and the pressures of keeping heads and minds above the crushing effects of unceasing disillusion; ‘dignity’ in the face of narcissistic cultural and political vacuous, the cost of living and bad health.
A very different record from its predecessor, Holton and Glover bring songwriting and vocals to the forefront; from the near forlorn shoegaze-y and woe of late 80s and early 90s indie, to what I can only describe as higher scale soulful indie and more modern effected R&B aches. But the music hasn’t exactly taken a back seat, with vapours of ‘Oh So’ period Charlatans, Neon Neon, Seefeel and The Last Sound, touches of soft power rock from the 80s and 70s, and the appearance of their former live, and My Autumn Empire, drummer Mike Rowley powering the breaks with evocations of Bloc Party at their most subdued and building a soft momentum when the drive is needed to escape the wispy drifting. Within that framework there are other nice little touches too: the glimpse of surface, environmental ambience and dialed-out conversations, a touch of folksy Iberia guitar here and there, and veil-like chime of the celeste.
epic45 somehow manage to retrieve hope and possibility from the ether of debilitating tiredness on an album that sees them move in more melodious and vocalised direction.
Boštjan Simon ‘Fermented Reality’
(Nature Scene)
Glitches in the cerebral; a coming to terms with the current age of high anxiety and alternative realities of a world in turmoil and flux; the debut solo turn from the Slovenian saxophonist and various electronic apparatus experimentalist Boštjan Simon puts the former instrument through a process of external effects to sound a surprisingly rhythmic vision of explorative jazz, broken beats, breakbeats, library music, kosmische and fourth world music.
Regular readers of the blog might recognize the name as part of the Slovenian trio of Etceteral, but Simon’s CV and involvement also runs to the groups Velkro and Trus!, plus a duo with the percussionist Zlatko Kaučuč. But now, stepping out on his own, he creates a soundboard and environment from a modified sax fitted with sensors to enable the triggering of oscillators in a modular system setup, using a new experimental interactive module called Octosense.
The results of which combine abstract blows, holds and wanes with more melodic and fluty vapours of sax, and Eastern German space programme oscillations with primal lunar bobbles and Asmus Tietchens popcorn. Taking the Jazz Messenger Jackie Mclean’s famous “saxophone is a drum” as a prompt, that instrument is reshaped in the style of Alex Roth and Andy Haas to explore new quadrants and feels of the keen and untethered: remarkably very melodious and tuneful in places, with some beats sounding like Madlib or Farhot at the helm. You can add Thomas De Pourquery to that list of reference points, but also Frédéric D. Oberland, Otis Sandsjö, Laurence Vaney, Joe Meek, Bernard Estardy (the last three in relation to the more playful, retro sounding bobbly liquids and satellite communication moments) and, on the near new age disorientated dance of ‘Gmnoe’, Ariel Kalma. That should be enough to go on for now. A solid, or not so solid but more open-ended and explorative, start to the solo career, Fermented Reality is a unique album of saxophone evocations and environmental probes.
Poppy H ‘Grave Era’
(Cruel Nature Records)
Zombie medication, zombie blades, zombie government: what a world to be dragged into. As the always awake screen lights up another terrible, distressing notification, or yet another crisis to weigh on the mind, the multi-instrumentalist, field recordist and producer Poppy H holds a phone up to society and openly records the decay, the innocuous and fleeting interactions of a world on standby as Rome burns to the ground all around them. Coping for many – and it’s neither their fault nor ours – is to keep keeping on with the daily grind; the one highlight of the day, picking up that mundane “flat white”.
All the commonality and evaporated stains of modern Britain are played out across a simultaneously creepy, lo fi bucolic, planetary, industrial and Fortean soundscape of café orders, snippets of conversations and crackles of interference. The Grave Era is certainly haunting and gray at times, and yet has a sort of reverberation of Andrew Wasylyk and the Cold Spells’ hallucinatory pastoral rusty piano, and a dreamy filter of piped church organ music – there’s even a sort of spell of what sound like the courtly music of Medieval or Tudor England at one point. For the most part, this is an album of chemical and more obscure prompts; a window in on the radioactive, plastic and technological flitching and glitch fabric of a fucked-up culture in turmoil and decline, yet far too inoculated through drugs (both the legal and illegal kinds) and the social media validation cult to face it or indeed change it. The sounds, production and vapours, visitations reminded me in equal parts throughout of the Sone Institute, Belbury Poly, Walter Smetek, Fiocz and Boards Of Canada, but go far further outside this country’s borders on tracks like the drifted passing melodious ‘Shaid & Irfan’, which could be a recording, as the traffic and daily business of others carries on in the foreground and background, of musicians from anywhere in North Africa, the Middle East, Afghanistan or Pakistan.
A country haunting itself, this is England in the dying embers of climatic, societal and political change; scored by a unique theme of recordings that masterfully encompass the erosion of action, living and hope in the “grave era”.
Meiko Kaji ‘Gincho Wataridori’
(WEWANTSOUNDS) 23rd February 2024
Heralding the transition of the cult Japanese actress-singer Meiko Kaji’s move to recording artist in the early 1970s, the vinyl specialists at WEWANTSOUND, in partnership with Teichiku Records, continue to reissue the leading star of B-movie and “ero guro” movie franchises’ back catalogue of influential albums. Following in the wake of last year’s Hajiki Uta LP, and reissued for the very first time, Tarantino’s crush (no Kill Bill’s bride without Kaji’s groundwork as the avenging Lady Snowblood; one of her most iconic roles) and untold influence for many over the decades, the star of many infamous Japanese schlock and brutal revenger horrors and violent killings sprees’ debut LP, Gincho Wataridori is up next in the roster.
Originally coaxed into the studio environment to sing the songs that would appear in and accompany a list of movie franchises (from Female Prisoner Scorpion to Blind Woman’s Curse and Stray Cat/Alleycat Rock), Kaji’s songbook repertoire expanded to include the Enka (a performative traditional form that often carried masked messages of political texts, later on, stylized with modern pop sensibilities in the post-war period), psych rock and Kayokyoku (a Japanese pop style with simple melodies and lyrics easy to play and sing along to).
The first of five albums recorded between 1972 and 1974 for Teichiku, the inaugural songbook in this run features a quartet of softly lush and Vaseline camera smeared dramatic fatale yearns and spindled, gently mallet(ed) funk-whacker and tremolo fuzzed dramas from both the Wandering Ginza Butterfly and Blind Woman’s Curse films – both Yakuza and Bōsōzoku themed revenge twists on the genre. The rest of the songs comprise of signature Oriental riffs on Axelrod, Bacharach, 60s French and Italian pop sirens and smoky cocktail cabaret jazz. Keji’s accompaniments are masterful, if light, and do the trick as her alluring, coquettish and often longed vocals rise to the occasion. Sven Wunder seems to make a Mosaic out of it, and a multitude of Hip-Hop artists have sampled it, but Gincho Wataridori remains a cult album ripe for reevaluation and attention.
Ap Ducal ‘U’
(Weisskalt Records)
Visioning a saturated spectral display of waveforms, moving bass lines and acid turned dials Camilo Palma (under his twelve year running project alter ego Ap Ducal) manages to blend kosmische and early synthesizer music with the German New Wave and post-punk genres, and various other cosmic electronics on his new succinct, minimalist entitled album U.
Collaborating with the Chilean musician Sebastián Román (otherwise known as Persona RS), Palma unites two sounds, two crafts to a fizzled, metallic filament cold wave soundtrack that moves between soft deep curves on the radar to the motorik and interstellar. Amongst the analogue electronics, the synthesized algorithms, the oft four-to-the-floor beat, and the paddled, rotor-bladed and tubular rhythms there’s echoes of Bernard Szajner, Sky Records, Heiko Maiko, Ulrich Schnauss, Michael Rothar, Eat Lights Become Lights, Basic Channel and Leonidas. ‘UUUU’ is a little different however: reminding me a bit of a Goblin Italo-Giallo horror soundtrack merged with the icy distillations and peregrinations of Edgar Froese; a bit of mystique, the occult and cold airy vacuums folded within the cold wave calculations.
Cosmic Couriers of a kind, the sonic partners on this forward propulsion make kosmiche and krautrock influences dance to a filter of tape music and minimalist techno. I’d say it was a successful conversion of all those inspirations/influences; making for a roaming and hypnotic experience.
____//THE SOCIAL VOLUME 83\\____
Continuing with the decade-long Social – originally a DJ club night I’d pick up at different times over the past 20 plus years, and also a café residency from 2012 to 2014 – playlist, each month I literally chose the records that celebrate anniversary albums, those that I’d love to hear on the radio waves or DJs play once and while, and those records that pay a homage and respect to those artists we’ve lost in the last month.
February has been a harsh harbinger of death, taking away from us both the mushroom incantation haiku experimental artist Damo Suzuki and motor city muthafucking jam kicking guitar-slinger antagonist Wayne Kramer. As a front man of a sort for Can during perhaps their most creatively fertile and influential period, from Soundtracks through to the Future Days opus, Suzuki also fronted numerous collaborative projects, his own “network” and “band”, whilst also knocking about with the post-punk-kruatrock legends Dunkelziffer. Tracks from more or less all of these ensembles appear here, alongside a couple of homages to the former MC5 rebel Kramer – ‘Ramblin’ Rose’ from the defining live rallying call for a generation Molotov Kick Out The Jams, something from his Citizen Wayne solo affair, and, just to be different, a track from his drug-addled hangout with Johnny Thunders, ‘They Harder They Come’.
Anniversary spots this month are taken up with covers of songs from Bob Dylan’s 1964 LP, The Times They Are A-Changin’, something off Amon Duul II’s less than celebrated, but much loved by me, Hijack LP from ’74, and tracks from Aretha Franklin’s Let Me In Your Life (50 this month), Mick Ronson’s Slaughter On 10th Avenue (another 50th celebration), Tangerine Dream’s Phaedra (see my archive piece below), Julian Cope’s Fried (40), Pavement’s Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain (30) and Down South’s Lost In Brooklyn (also 30 this month).
Scattered throughout are tracks I just love or dig from across the spectrum of time and genres, and, just recently loaded up onto streaming services and let out of the vaults, the title-track performance from the goddess of sublime mediative vibrations, Alice Coltrane’s Shiva-Loka Live album.
Tracks In Full:::::
Damo Suzuki ‘Wildschweinbraten (Single)’
Amon Duul II ‘Mirror’
Omar Rodriguez-Lopez and Damo Suzuki ‘Please Heat This Eventually Pt. III’
Wayne Kramer ‘Stranger In The House’
Hunger ‘Portland 69’
Aretha Franklin ‘Let Me In Your Life’
Damo Suzuki’s Network ‘Manager Cinderella’
CAN ‘Moonshake’
CAN ‘Don’t Turn The Light On, Leave Me Alone’
Johnny Thunders & Wayne Kramer ‘The Harder They Come’
Pavement ‘Elevate Me Later’
Dunkelziffer ‘Network’
Odetta ‘The Times They Are A-Changin’
Down South ‘Sitting Here’
Julian Cope ‘Me Singing’
Matt Donovan ‘Black Crow’
MC5 ‘Ramblin’ Rose’
Supersister ‘She Was Naked’
Mick Ronson ‘Growing Up And I’m Fine’
Billy Childish ‘Ballad Of Hollis Brown’
The Yankee Dollar ‘Live & Let Live’
Alice Coltrane ‘Shiva-Loka (Live)’
Tangerine Dream ‘Movements Of A Visionary’
Lee Hutzulak ‘Behind The Singing Bush’
Limber Limbs ‘Golden Rust’
James Quell ‘The World Got Taken Over By Billionaire Scum’
Arti & Mestieri ‘Saper Sentire’
PTC ‘Freestyle Na Vrtaci’
CIX ‘Clitor’s Eye’
CAN ‘I’m So Green’
____///ARCHIVES\\\____
Tangerine Dream ‘Phaedra’ Reaches 50 (From my original piece for the now sadly defunct London electronic music and architectural journal Vessel, nearly 14 years ago)
Phaedra the tragic mythological love-torn, and cursed wife of Theseus has lent herself to many plays, poetic prose, operas and even an asteroid. This rebuked siren from Greek tragedy is immortalised for a new epoch as part of the West Berlin synthesizer group’s re-textured sweeping experiments. Covering the entirety of side one, on this their first LP for Virgin, Phaedra is like an acid-trance choral eulogy of incipient multilayer motifs and arpeggiator modulations. The sounds of a ghost ship’s switchboard interlaced with twisting metallic reverb both gravitate and loom over a meandering pan-European work-out on this improvised track, which unintentionally, but rather pleasingly and to great effect, fluctuated in tone and tempo-atmospheric changes that played havoc with the analog equipment. Edgar Froese and his ever-rotating line-up of fellow freethinking cohorts had moved on from their so-called ‘Pink Period’ on the German Ohr label, to a more transcendental and ambient approach on the burgeoning Virgin imprint. Phase three in the Tangerine Dream life cycle saw them showered with, almost, unlimited funds and full use of the famous Virgin Manor Studios in Oxford – where fellow compatriots Faust recorded their IV album, a few months before. Flanking Froese on this adventure were the ex-Agitation Free drummer Chris Franke, and Peter Baumann; who’d already left the trio once before, returning just in time to record this musical suite.
Phaedra would be an album of firsts for the band with the introduction and use of sequencers and the MOOG. Franke would adopt DR. Robert Moog’s invention as a substitute to the bass guitar on the visionary soundscape ‘Mysterious Semblance At The Stand Of Nightmares’ – surely the catalyst and influence behind Bowie’s ‘Warszawa’. The polyphonic Mellotron, used to elegiac effect on the very same track, is tenderly coaxed and teased by Froese, whilst the VCS 3′s battleship pin board decked oscillation generator glides and bubbles throughout the four musical vistas of heavenly orchestrated electronica. Baumann explores the use of tape-echo and filtered effected flute on his own paean composed passage, ‘Sequent C’; a short wistful and haunting soundtrack to some imagined eastern elegy.
Released simultaneously in both Germany and the UK on the cusp of 1974, this album more than any ever by the Dream team cemented their reputation. With scant publicity and sporadic underground radio play, it sold in excess of 100,000 copies overseas and entered the top twenty album charts in Blighty, changing the fortunes of the Virgin label forever. However these prophets failed to drum-up the same exultation and adulation back in their homeland, barely shifting 6,000 records. Considered a sea-change in style and dynamics; a marked departure from their classic ‘Alpha Centauri’, this New Age themed cantata pitches itself somewhere between pantheism, mythology and a nebula traversing flight.
Our Daily Bread 610: BMX Bandits, Flowertown, The Children’s Hour…
February 6, 2024
A ROUNDUP OF NEW MUSIC REVIEWS BY CULT INSTIGATOR OF THE NO-FI, AND SIBLING BAND MEMBER OF THE BORDELLOS, BRIAN SHEA.

___/SINGLES\___
BMX Bandits ‘Time To Get Away’
(Tapete Records)
The sweet and swaying beauty of ‘Time To Get Away’ is a lovely little thing; a pop song that swirls and floats and promises to leave sweet flowering whispers of love in your ear whilst reminding you that the pop song is indeed a magical thing that prods you into believing that Spring is just around the corner.
Daay ‘Follower’
Oh my lord have I been transported back to the 80s and watching a garish edition of Top Of The Pops with rah rah skirts and shiny blouses, with members of the audience dancing whilst trying to get the attention of the cameraman as he attempts to zoom up some poor young ladies skirt. “Follower” by Daay brings this all back with a rather fetching, very 80s sounding pop song – can you imagine if Tubeway Army and Kajagoogoo had joined forces and let loose on the pop public? It may well sound something like this, all whooshing synth and funky pop bass and stabbing guitars: A fine pop single.
bigflower ‘Lighthouse’
The latest free to download from bigflower is upon us; another dark and dense monster beauty of a track, a haunting drone that sucks one in and completely engulfs you, and has you feeling that you’ve just gone 15 rounds with a Xiu Xiu boxset: leaving you battered tired but triumphant. This is a real haunting beauty of a song.
Sleap-e ‘Leave My Bum Alone’
(Bronson Records)
“Leave My Bum Alone” is a fine pop song; beautiful jazzy chords played with a throwaway indie pop punk abandon. It’s catchy. It’s fun. It’s slightly Lo-fi. It’s what pop music is all about.
The Pheromoans ‘Downtown’
(Upset The Rhythm)
I really like this single. It reminds me of both early Go Betweens and Sebadoh, which is fine by me, as I love both those bands. This is one of those short and sweet tracks that leaves you wanting more; so once again I shall make a mental note to keep a listen out for their forthcoming album which I think is forthcoming early March.
The Children’s Hour ‘Dance With Me’
(Drag City)
Charming indie folk jangle that is what this single by The Children’s Hour is: nothing more and nothing less. And that is fine and dandy, for there is always a place for charming indie folk jangle in my life and in lots of other music lovers I suspect. In fact it reminded me of a slightly rawer Sundays – not that it takes much to be rawer than the Sundays as they where hardly the Cramps. So the single by the Children’s Hour is rawer then the Sundays but not the Cramps.
____/ALBUMS\____
Salem Trials ‘View From Another Window’
(Metal Postcard Records)

The Salem Trials are clinically rambunctious. They are never further than being an arms length away from genius. They have their own sound: their own model of post-punk if you like. They take all the usual subjects (The Fall, Wire, Gang Of Four, the Blue Orchids and Subway Army) and mix them with a no wave sound coming from the streets of New York in the late 70s early 80s. They release albums constantly – this is actually the first of 2024 though, and fits in nicely with the army of there previously released albums.
Andy still being the inspired guitarist that he is, riffing like a cross between Keith Richards, Tom Verlaine and Brix Smith with a army of admirers gathering in her Dis guarded nightwear, and Russ still being the nutter on the bus wearing the splatter ballistic cop t-shirt and spitting feathers at the naked chickens queuing up outside to be the first in line for the latest modern contraption while he is creating art at its best out of the fuzzy felt of yesteryears clowns hats. You really have to love the Salem Trials.
Flowertown ‘Tourist Language’
(Paisley Shirt Records)

I love Flowertown, they have a lovely lo-fi romantic rain soaked essence, a perfumed decadence that offers images of tattered dog eared well loved and read books cluttering the shelves of bedsit land: a soundtrack to alternative bars and local music scene adventure. If The JAMC where not two squabbling brothers but two lovelorn lovers they might well sound like Flowertown. There is a soft dynamic between the two members of Flowertown that I find quite beguiling: the whispered vocals, the simple drum machine and hand held percussion, and the softly strummed jangle that occasionally dissolves into the safety and comfort of a thin blanket of feedback. Flowertown are pretty much perfect.
Legless Crabs ‘Golden Chowders’
(Metal Postcard Records)

The Legless Crabs are a rock ‘n’ roll band the same way that the Fall were a rock ‘n’ roll band, and the same way that Pussy Galore were a rock ‘n’ roll band. If the Legless Crabs had released music in the 60s they would have been rediscovered in the 80s and fawned over, and be a constant inclusion on the wonderful garage rock compilations such as Nuggets or Pebbles. Not that The Legless Crabs sound like a 60s garage band, they just carry the same spirit the same anger and tensions. They are unhappy with living in the USA today and they vent their spleen in these marvellously short punk rock vignettes: not punk rock in a 70s kind of cabaret way with store bought ripped jeans and shirts with the ironic God Save The Queen slogan but in a “I’m pissed off and going to spit all the bile and art inherited from the ghost of Roky Erickson” way. The Legless Crabs should be on the cover of Rolling Stone. They are a band that could and should inspire a musical revolution. They are a band that speaks out for all the souls who think themselves a non-entity. In a short: a blast of thrown-away punk rock bliss the Legless Crabs prove there is still anger beauty and revolution in Rock ‘n’ roll.
REVIEW BY DOMINIC VALVONA

Various ‘Wagadu Grooves: The Hypnotic Sound Of Camara 1987-2016’
(Hot Mule)
Shedding light on a rarely told story, the latest showcase compilation from the Paris label Hot Mule unfolds the backstory and “hypnotic” sounds of Gaye Mody Camara’s iconic label; a story that encompasses the West African Soninke diaspora and legacy. The entrepreneur turn label honcho and umbrella for those artists both from the mainland French migrant community and from across swathes of what was the atavistic kingdom of the Soninke ethnic groups’ Wagadu, Camara, through various means and links, helped create a whole industry of music production in Paris during the 80s, 90s and new millennium.
Playing the part of project facilitators Hot Mule now provide the platform for a selection of infectious and languidly cool hypnotic and dipping, bobbing tracks from the Camara back catalogue: all chosen by Gaye himself and with the assistance of Daouda N’diaye, one of A.P.S’ (Association pour la Promotion de la langue et de la culture Soninké) historical members – bringing this project into the sphere of support, with the intention of drawing attention to this community; many of which have suffered under migration laws and been shoved unceremoniously into poor served housing schemes (the liner notes go into far more detail and context than I have room for, but are a highly, illuminating read).
But before we dive in a little background is needed, starting with the Wagadu of that title, by all accounts – even for these times – an opulent kingdom at the centre of the ivory, copper, bronze and gold trade across Western Sahel and beyond: linking to much of the known world a millennia ago. Ruled by the Mande-speaking Soninke ‘ghanas’ (when translated this title means war chiefs or warriors), with its capital in Mauritania, and its people spread across what we now know as Senegal and Mali, this regal palatial kingdom impressed all those who visited it, including the Arab trader Al-Bakri who witnessed its abundance of riches firsthand: ‘Gold was everywhere: even the ghana’s dogs had collars of gold and silver studded with a number of balls of metal’ – thanks to Simon Sebag Montefiore’s The World: A Family History tome for that quote and enlightening information on the subject. He also witnessed the more dreadful practices of human sacrifice; victims intoxicated with fermented drinks buried with their dead ghana and his treasures. But as laid out in the opening to the compilation’s liner notes, the mythical blood ties of this community are linked to the legend of the hydra-like serpent Biida; paid for his protection of prosperity and the providential with the offering of the life of the most beautiful virgin in the kingdom. This practice lasted it is said, right up until the 13th century when one such feted sacrifice, Siya Yatabéré, was thankfully championed by her faithful love interest Maamadi Sehedunxote, who armed with a large sword and astride his stallion cut off the head of this serpent, from which sprouted seven great gold mines and a curse: “With my end begins a period of calamity for you and your people. For seven years, seven months and seven days, not a drop of water will fall on Wagadu and your gold will turn to dust”.
This serpent’s tale is a lesson, we’re told, on the pratfalls of decadence, but also a fable about the start of this community’s decline, as this was the period in which the Soninke people on mass abandoned the ancestors customs and worship for Islam. Well-placed for conversion, the word of Islam spread and indeed started by caravan traders on the Sahel routes, both by the constant engagement with and by the sword, the Soninke joined the Muslim sweep across Africa. Although, according to Montefiore’s account, by the 11th century the self-titled Amir al Muslim (‘Commander of the Muslims’), Abu Bakr had pushed south and broken Wagadu and its lineage of ghanas – I must stress at this point, Ghana is not to be mixed up with what would eventually be the country of Ghana, which is further south and east of this original empire. Bakr was however killed, lucky shot it’s said, by a blind Soninke warrior’s arrow. His nephew, and co-ruler, Yusef Ibn Tashfin finished of the job before famously going on to attempt a conquest of Spain – just his luck that a certain El Cid was his contemporary and rallying point for a staunch defense of the region.
Despite achieving such a status as rulers of a much envied and powerful empire – fielding, it’s believed, an army of 200,000 – they were very much a nomadic people, spreading, as I’ve already mentioned, across Senegal and Mali, but further afield too. Considered a hardworking if reserved body of traders and farmers, they formed a reliable workforce: especially for the French who centuries later would come to colonize much of Western Africa and the Sahel. Moving forward in time, the Soninke proved vital as laborers and soldiers for France and its ambitious programe of conquest. A number were recruited in 1857 to the “tirailleurs Sénégalais” (although many of course weren’t from Senegal at all), the first regiment of black riflemen in the French colonial army. In the 20th century at least 135,000 black Africans fought on European soil in the most brutal campaigns of WWI. Tens of thousands of would later go on to join the Free French Forces and Resistance in WWII. Not the most encouraging and congruous of situations to migrate, but many would settle in mainland France, with different flows back and forth over the ensuing decades; right up, that is, until the more restrictive and prohibited changes in the mid 70s, when this easy travel between Africa and France was made much harder. Before this time, it would be mainly the men folk of the Soninke that made the journey to find prospects and employment abroad, keeping their earnings saved up, and either returning home at intervals or sending it back to their families. A shift in migration policy would mean that now the whole family would repatriate to France, bringing in far more women and children to the mix.
Music would be the bond however, as pioneers such as Gaye Mody Camara, who lends his name to the successful label he set up in the French capital during the later 70s, built up their own little business empires amongst the diaspora communities. The story of his ascendance on the music scene is laid out in the liner notes, and far too lengthy to outline here in full. But during the course his stewardship Gaye would rub shoulders with various iconic figures (such as the internationally renowned Guinean musician and producer Bonkana Maïga and owner of the Syllart Records label and the main distributor of tapes at the time, Ibrahima Sylla) on the scene as he moved between originally buying releases from others to resale in his own chain of establishments to producing and setting up his own cassette tape production facilities.
In-house and a label in its own right, the Camara imprint broke new Soninke acts and artists from across a wide range of countries in the Western African region. And as you will hear, fanned a four decade period of innovation and trends whilst still maintaining the essential essence and roots of tradition. Each and everyone represented on this collection has a story to tell about how they were discovered or how they came to Gaye’s attention; from the migrant housing centre to hearsay, the word-of-mouth and the gentlemen who insisted that Gaye listen to his wife’s cassette tape recordings and take charge of her career. The latter was the husband of Halime Kissima Touré, who went on to have a ‘fruitful’ collaboration with the label; so popular and integral to the story as to have three (if you manage to buy the digital bonus track edition) tracks showcased. A kind of younger Aby Ngana Diop desert queen of pop and admonition, Halime has a powerful, but not loud, voice that carries over a sauntering 80s style marimba-like rhythm and fluty synth on the cool-as-you-like ‘Koolo Fune’; scorns those parents who’d interfere in the upbringing of their peers’ children to a more Tuareg sand dunes dipping caravan trial rhythm, and vaporous synth, on ‘Alla Da Fo Ña’; and rather fatefully, to a laidback funky-lite clean groove, reminds us all, in accordance with the values of Islam, that ‘all life will one day come to an end’ on ‘Duna’.
Another of the many incredibly female voiced artists on this compilation, the gifted Malian songstress Babáni Kone comes from a lineage of Griot storyteller-musicians. To a languid elliptic-like hypnotizing groove, she evokes both Mariam Amadou and Fatim Diabte Haute Gamme, soaring and lilting across another of those glassy bulb notes marimba bobbles, on the knocked and rim clattered ‘Soyeba’.
If not the lead singer, there’s usually a chorus of female harmonies accompanying the various male compatriots of the Soninke ancestry; especially the opening phaser-effected and threaded kora (I think it’s a kora anyway), smoke machine synthesized, 90s R&B-lite ‘Kori’. The unifying themed, effortlessly hip languorous funk-pop number finds the thankful (giving a nod to his mentor Camara in the lyrics) Mamadou Tangoudia on warbled-vibrato duties, backed by an Ljadau Sisters-style chorus of soothed female accomplices. Tangoudia was apparently introduced to his champion by his landlady in the Mauritanian capital of Nouakchott; ‘seduced’ no less by his singing skills, Camara financed a trip to the Malian capital of Bamako to record the burgeoning star’s eponymous album in 2007; and this is the ‘stand-out’ track from it (so good that the label has added the instrumental version as a bonus to the collection; a great way to fully take in and absorb the sophisticated and just cool production). ‘Kori’ is a brilliant shoehorn into the modern era Soninke sound and production; one that subtly merges a familiar African soundtrack with the trends and various available innovations of the times; from French new wave disco (I’d argue that Ami Traoré’s exotic menagerie of whistles and tweets spotted discothèque-light ‘Tenedo’ fits the bill in that regard) to synth-pop and reggae (Diobe Fode’s trumpet blared, Acayouman-esque ocean view slink ‘Yexu’). The old country is very much still a major part of the source and rhythm, with Naïny Diabaté’s soulful ‘Sankoy Djeli’ sounding like there’s nimble-fingered Seckou Keita on the track soloing to an R&B production; and the guitar (if it is indeed that; again could be a kora or lute) on Mah Kouyaté’s ‘Soso’ sounds not a million miles away from a bendy, turned-over and spindly Lobi Traoré solo – imagine if Niles Rodgers had camped down in Bamako instead of Studio 54.
The sound is at all times amazing, and the voices commanding; a mix of those inherited Griot roots, the club, pop and caravan trial. And yes, most importantly, Wagadu does have the eponymous ‘grooves’ of the title: the ‘hypnotic’ bit too.
Hot Mule and partners have produced an essential introductory showcase/revitalisation of Soninke sounds: the very epitome of ‘cool’ and enlightenment. And with it, shed that metaphorical light on a story that needs shouting about. I can’t really fault the collection. And so recommend you make room for it, add to your listening list, and better still, purchase a copy ahead of the rush: I’m anticipating it will sell out fast.
Hi, my name is Dominic Valvona and I’m the Founder of the music/culture blog monolithcocktail.com For the last ten years I’ve featured and supported music, musicians and labels we love across genres from around the world that we think you’ll want to know about. No content on the site is paid for or sponsored and we only feature artists we have genuine respect for /love. If you enjoy our reviews (and we often write long, thoughtful ones), found a new artist you admire or if we have featured you or artists you represent and would like to buy us a coffee at https://ko-fi.com/monolithcocktail to say cheers for spreading the word, then that would be much appreciated.










