Mongo & Justo : Cumbia Tipica
taken from the album “Ubane” on Vaya (1976)

El Combo Candela : El Carbonero
taken from the mixtape “La Musica” by DJ Dusk (200?) originally ???

Lito Barrientos Y Su Orquesta : Cumbia En Do Menor
taken from the compilation “Colombia!” on Soundway (2007)

Lita Nelson : Navidad Negra
taken from the compilation “Cumbias” on RCA (196?) originally ???

Unknown Artist : Unknown Cumbia
taken from a CDR given to me by a random dood

*UPDATE* The previously unknown cumbia has been confirmed as “El Macho” by Lisandro Meza. Thanks to DJ Cheif Boima for the I.D. – so change your empeefree tags folks.

It’s been just a bit over a week since I heard the unbelievable news about my friend Monica. I didn’t really know her as well as I know most of my friends, (couldn’t even tell you her last name) but the strength of our connection was based on good music and dancing, things that we both care about deeply. She has been a regular to my weekly Latin night in Williamsburg for well over a year now. Every single Thursday night around 1AM I could expect to see this fiesty, five-foot jumping bean, shaking up the dancefloor in a flurry of tatoos and dreads. I’m not sure if Monica was Colombian, but it was clear that Cumbia was something she loved above all else. With a style all her own, she regularly magnified the energy of the small, tightly packed crowd into something epic and trancendental. She was hit by a car while riding her motorcycle home early on a sunday morning- after a night of music and dancing no doubt. It was a hit and run. Monica is now shaking her dreads at a party waaay bigger than my little Thursday night sweatbox sessions. I will continue to think about her every week when I drop jams like these that always brought her up to the DJ booth with a beaming smile on her face.

I also included one of my favorite tracks from a mixtape by the late, great DJ Dusk who was also hit and killed by a drunk driver just over a year ago now. I saw/heard him spin as part of the world-renowned Root Down party on a few occaisions, both in L.A. and here in NYC. His unique mixture of funk, hip hop, and obscure latin bombs (including many unknown Cumbia joints) hit me like a musical meteor and I am not ashamed in the least to admit that I jacked a handful of songs directly from his sets. He definitely makes my top ten list of most influential DJs of all time, and I hope to one day put out La Musica Vol. II to pay my respects properly.

As for this Colombia! comp. Little needs to be said about DJ Miles Cleret and the folks at Soundway records over in the UK. In the 3 years since dropping their first Ghanian funk compilation, they’ve firmly established their reputation as some of the headiest diggers in the game.

Finally, since I had such a good reaction with the unknown music titles last time round, I’m making another go at it. Some appreciative dood at the same aforementioned Thursday night gig came up and handed me a blank CDR without saying a word. There’s quite a few great tracks on it, some of which I recognized, but this one is a mystery to me. Any help would be appreciated.

Cinco De Mayo is just around the corner, use it as an excuse to turn these tracks into a house-party or a back yard BBQ and dance for the dead.

Sa-Ra Creative Partners: Hollywood, Starwarz and Nasty You
Taken from the forthcoming album Set-Ups And Justifications, coming soon…

It kinda snuck up on me. Like, Luke, the hopelessly uncool kid in my sophmore class who went away to Europe for the summer and came back in September as Luc, with tight pants, a penchant for cloves and a certain bohemian je ne sais quoi. I always knew who he was, I just never expected him to, like, get hip.

And now this: L.A. has returned from an extended hiatus (school let out in 1962), and all of a sudden there’s a Downtown, a (moderately) functional Metro rail line, and a music boon that begs the question–just like I asked all those years ago of Luc in his black and white striped shirt and angular sunglasses–“Where did this all come from?”

If you’re to believe Sa-Ra, an extraterrestrial trio with terrestrial ties to the City of Angels, it came from another planet.

Since their first single dropped more than two years ago, heads have been following closely the uncanny path that Sa-Ra has traveled. They burst onto scene like a left coast Funkadelic with a brazen Hollywood attitude and a Dilla-esque drum kit: all squelching synthesizers, sultry vocals and bottom-end fatness. With a relatively scant few individual releases (two singles), and a handful of notable remixes and one-off appearances (Medeski Martin & Wood, Daedelus), by early last year, the producer triumvirate had generated enough excitement to sign with a guy named Kanye West, on his G.O.O.D. Music label, and had released their first 12″ as a revamped hype group with a cleaner hip hop sound.

And the hype? Justified. But fans (myself included) began to worry that Kanye was exerting a stifling, if well-intentioned, force on the genre-busting trio. What happened to galactic vocal manipulations, the gritty disco stomp? The problem for a group like Sa-Ra, who early on positioned themselves as an other-worldly sound machine bent on defying proper classification, may be living up to the standard they set for themselves.

With their first full-length release looming on the near horizon, they’ve found a middle ground of sorts. Neither as purely novel as their earliest stuff (maybe it’s just ’cause more folks are doing the synth-hiphop- neo-Prince funk now…), nor as reductive as their first G.O.O.D single, they’ve managed to successfully forge a continuation of their sound while ostensibly leaving room for more growth down the road.

I mean, that was their problem from the outset, right? Too much too soon. Well, now they seem a little self-conscious of their own might, and have dipped back into their old bag of tricks (vocoder, multi-layered vocals, dirty synth stabs) to produce a work that is entirely dope, if not transportative.

The real growth for them here, is that their sound has begun to feel uniquely L.A.–and I mean that in a good way. There’s some of that DFA urban sleeze going on, but tempered with a uniquely unpretentious Roger Troutman, Cali flavor. The result is laid-back, bass heavy driving music that makes for a great late-night soundtrack on a wide So-Cal freeway.

So the record may not be perfect. And Sa-Ra is human. But I’ve never been so proud to be an Angeleno.

UPDATE! UPDATE! UPDATE!
Okay. So I really missed the boat on this one. The songs posted above are all from an advance promo EP that I received several months ago. I kept meaning to post it, but procrastinated and procrastinated and procrastinated so that by the time I actually got around to it (aka. yesterday)… the full length LP, The Hollywood Recordings had already dropped! Stymied!

There’s bad and good news about this.

The Bad News is that the LP is a bit of a disappointment. They’ve recycled several of their now years-old early singles and sprinkled them in amidst a diverse but ultimately unimpressive display of the Sa-Ra product. (That they put Capone N’ Noreaga on one of the tracks is a real head-scratcher…) And a lot of it feels like filler. There are certainly some notable moments: Bilal (god bless the return of the Gifted One!) steps up to deliver niceness, and a collabo with Erykah Badu and Georgia Anne Muldrow is a sultry success. But on the whole, The Hollywood Recordings leaves something to be desired.

The Good News is that none of the songs I’ve posted above appear on the album. Read: Exclusive. So wrap your ears around that. Suckas!

Tom Ze: Ma, Doi, Toc, and Mae (Maes Soliteira)
Taken from the album Estudando O Samba (1975)

What does it mean for a musician to be truly ahead of his time? As a safe measure you could say that if, thirty years after the production of the initial work, other artists–brilliant in their own right–are just barely beginning to get caught up to speed–well, that’s a good sign.

Other clues: If a wormhole seems to have enveloped the music so that its vintage production value sounds as fresh as anything coming out in a contemporary context; if the techniques (looping? sampling? anyone?) employed to deepen the music are still under exploration; if a quarter-century hasn’t diminished the content of an album–those are some pretty solid indicators, too.

By these criteria, it’s safe to say that Tom Ze was a legitimate maverick. Excuse me–is as legitimate maverick. Homeboy’s still at it. And here he is on one of his great works, Estudando O Samba. Released in 1975, this record is Ze’s post-Tropicalia masterpiece: alternately beautiful, experimental, hypnotic, fuzzy, fonky and always fresssh, it’s a record which very well could have been lost into the murky nether regions of recording obscurity, had it not been for a fortuitous interloper. But more on that in a minute.

Ah, 1975. Ze had spent the previous decade shoulder to shoulder with super-heroes–Gilberto Gil, Gal Costa, Caetano Veloso and Jorge Ben–exploding the roof off of the traditional Brazilian sound. Ze, in particular, was a cult figure, revered as much for his abstruse sound as his clever lyrics. Certainly as one of the founding members of the Tropicalia movement, it would seem that Ze had already carved his indelible mark on history. And to an extent, he had.

But Ze proved to be a little too advanced for his own good. Ardently opposed to the mainstream, he continued to make music that tested his listening public. And apparently his public didn’t want to be tested. By the early 80’s they had abandoned him. Spurned, Ze retreated from music altogether, returning to his small home town to work at a nephew’s gas station. And that might have been the end…

Until David Byrne heard Estudando O Samba and was like, “Holy Mary, Mother of Zeus! WTF?!” An envoy was sent to find the elusive Ze, and the rest is history. Byrne signed Tom Ze as the flagship artist on the then fledgling Luaka Bop and fifteen years later he’s still out there, blazing his way through left field.

Check out some of his recent work, including collabo’s and remixes with John McEntire and Sean Lennon, and his NEW ALBUM(!) which, appropriately enough, marks Ze’s impressive homage to thirty years of, yep, you guessed it, Estudando O Samba.

Viva Ze!

Unknown Ghanian Group : ???
taken from a mysterious unlabled piece of orange vinyl

Unknown Middle Eastern Artist : Jeitili
taken from a mysterious 7″ with an Express label

Unknown Malaysian Singer : ???
taken from an LP with no English on it except the label name: Eagle

Unknown Russian Group : ???
taken from an LP with no English on it

I usually restrain myself from bringing out the really otherly stuff in my collection: Hungarian sheep herding songs, Armenian lounge music, Puerto Rican political independence protest anthems… I dig this stuff in the proper setting, but I also acknowledge that it would be asking a lot of you all to share my appreciation for these sounds. My closest friends, even my own flesh and blood, have been known to give me strange glances when I play them the latest darbuka drumbreak I’ve uncovered on a forgotten bellydance album. But today’s mysterious selections aren’t here just to show off what weird things I enjoy, this time I’m looking for help from some of you. Perhaps there’s a reader in Russia (I think that’s the language on the cover) who can help identify this crazy black and green record (which also has a nasty drumbreak on it and some crazy heavy bass lines) or an Arabic listener who might be able to identify the voice singing “Jeitili”. I once played this orange West African record on my radio show and had a caller tell me that he believed it to be the Ghanian Army Band, but I’ve had no definitive confirmation of that thus far. And even if you don’t know any more information about these artists than I do, try to find something you can get excited about in here.

Also, congratulations to Piotr Bombol from Warsaw and Britton Lacey from Brooklyn for being the first to respond with the correct Anthony Hamilton info. Albums are on their way.

A Certain Ratio : Shack Up
taken from the album “Early” on Soul Jazz (2002)
-originally released as a single on Factory (1980)

Gang Of Four : Not Great Men
taken from the album “Entertainment” on Warner Brothers (1979)

Talking Heads : I Zimbra
taken from the album “Fear Of Music” on Sire (1979)

Pigbag : Sunny Day
taken from their self-titled EP on Stiff (1981)

First off, sorry for the lack of posts… Capt. P. working out of town plus young Murphy still in S. Africa equals not good for the blog. I will try to make it up to you all with a slew of music. So brace yerselves…

Second, the gracious people promoting Anthony Hamilton’s new album (see last post) have offered up two copies to giveaway. But you gotta be one of the first 2 people to answer this question in order to get yours:
What was the name and year of his first album???
e-mail answers to: captainplanet@bywayof.net

And finally, I was kinda shocked by the responses to the last post. I’m happy to hear what you all think of the selections, but one commentor actually called me a “racist bastard”… funny thing is, they must not have read what was actually written here, about how we really like the music of Amy Winehouse & Joss Stone. And maybe the said commentor missed the fact that this very blog was a part of the momentus hype- giving shine to that very same winehouse less than a month ago. I’m not too worried about being called out for what I write on here, this entire website is, after-all, a labor of love. Here in the crate we post music we love, sharing it with you in the hope that if you find yourself similarly moved by it, you’ll help spread the music even further. Perhaps bringing more attention and maybe even a few extra bucks into the hands of the artists through the purchase of an album or concert ticket.

However, in the event that you do feel inclined to criticize the opinions written here (and that’s quite alright by us), at least read what’s actually been written here first. One of the few perks in keeping this blog alive is receiving gracious comments or e-mails from you all, so please keep that coming as well – it is always appreciated.

Finally, lets all let off some collective steam in the best way I know how- whiteboy punk funk. Must one be white to enjoy the benefits of Punk? Certainly not. Does being funky require blackness? Please. We title our MP3s “Gumbo Funk” cause we tend to like it when genres (often historically defined by racial lines) blur, bend and mix.

A Certain Ratio is the shit. Gang Of Four is classic. Pigbag does not get enough propers. And Talking Heads we all know and love already, but lets play I Zimbra again just ’cause it’s so damn good.

Anthony Hamilton : Fallin In Love Again and Why
taken from the album “Southern Comfort” on Merovingian (2007)

Anthony Hamilton : The Truth
taken from the album “Ain’t Nobody Worryin'” on So So Def/Zomba/Arista (2005)

Anthony Hamilton : Comin’ From Where I’m From (DJ Still Life Remix)
the original can be found on the album “Comin’ From Where I’m From” on So So Def/Arista (2003)

Amy Winehouse and Joss Stone, talented and soulful as they may be, are definitely riding high on great white hype-ness. I’m not trying to criticize their music in the least, but the downpour of praise and attention seems to be apporaching Indonesian monsoon-type levels. It strikes me as being more than a little imbalanced when looking at other soul artists in the hustle, of a more traditionally dark complexion, who’ve been left nearly high and dry. Anthony Hamilton’s newest effort (which was actually recorded earlier and has been sitting unreleased), put out on the apparently indie Merovingian (no site yet???), is a perfect example of a contemporary soul baring gem that will likely get 1/3 the number of reviews and write-ups as “Back To Black”. Even after “Comin’ From Where I’m From” went platinum, pulled along by the ballad bomb “Charlene”, he’s still struggling to get props. While some of the production he works with is less than stunning, Hamilton rises far above the track with a voice that even brings Donny Hathaway’s greatness to mind.

The DJ Still Life remix was pulled from Ear Fuzz a while back, and does a nice job of fixing the shortcomings of the original song – namely a weak beat – by calling on the classic memphis stylings of Willie Mitchell. Maybe Hamilton needs a little help from the Dap Kings and Mr. Mark Ronson? Maybe he talks too much about the bible and not enough about rehab? Personally, I think the complete package here is more apt for repeat plays and rotation longevity. There’s a slight gimmick aspect to what I’ve heard from Winehouse and Stone, I’m not talking Matisyahu here, but just a hint of manufactured forcefulness that I don’t hear in Hamilton’s more relaxed and freeflowing croon. Maybe I’m biased though.

Big up to our other contemporary soulsters who haven’t yet gotten their due shine:
Raphael Saadiq, Leela James, Eric Roberson, Stephanie McKay, Ledisi… add on to the list, there are many more out there.