Aby Ngana Diop
Last fall I had the immense pleasure of watching the Awesome Tapes From Africa dude DJ. The standout track from that evening was, in my mind, “Dieuleul Dieuleul” by Aby Ngana Diop, the title of which I know due to my having giddily rushed to the DJ booth for at least the fourth time that night inquiring as to a track title, annoying the ATFA dude by making him repeatedly try to pronounce, and eventually just spell both the artist and album, as I laboriously typed it all into a flip phone to look up later.
I’ve since been swept away countless times by this track, Aby presiding like the headmaster at a pep rally in Heaven’s High School, peering pleasantly yet powerfully over the proceedings – here there are no demarcations between athletes, drumline, teachers, audience. Close to a year of repeat plays later, Awesome Tapes announces what will surely be an immense treat in the form of the entire 1994 album from which this single came. Yet as someone whose own DJ sets are comprised almost entirely of tracks ripped off of the Awesome Tapes blog, the rerelease and inevitable popularization of this particular single is for me bittersweet.
Scope the single via the video above and proceed directly to the pre-order here
• Awesome Tapes From Africa: http://www.awesometapes.com
Y’all diggin’ them sample-based twitch-DJ fuckery from England? That’s chill. But Hiro Kone is in NYC and really rocking together both that spastically produced fluidity and pensive tonal meditation sonars, blending in vibes on Fallen Angels that only a booming city can produce, so she’s in the right place. Couldn’t say I’d call it “home” to Kone, considering everyone is pretty much a transplant here, and I’ve no real biography on the gal, but it’s all about the hear-and-now.
Geographic North is all about thoughtful experimental music, and Hiro Kone marks an interesting catalog number for the label, as Fallen Angels rise to the occasion and drop out just as quick –er, musically. The adventure with this tape is worth the journey. Where will Fallen Angels land you? Does the weight of flight feel as though nothing else exists? Find out below, as Fallen Angels by Hiro Kone is streaming in FULL via Geographic North, from whom you can purchase this tape (here). Enjoy the trip:
The reappropriation of sound is nothing new, if not a mainstay. In January’s The Trouble with Contemporary Music Criticism, James Parker and Nicholas Croggon, in the midst of deconstructing retromania, touch on the democratic values of vaporwave “challenging the notion of a history as the endless progression of one damn thing after another” – where “the listening experience (is) all about that original; maybe even about the discourse of originality itself.” (It’s a dope feature, check it).
Yung Bae and a fast-growing group of soul calibrated producers (Architecture in Tokyo, マクロスMACROSS 82-99, Hong Kong Express) are working in a realm between reframing and sampling. In response to a followers “tell me your source” inquiry, Stratford, CT’s Yung Bae said simply, in a matter of words, ripped vinyl and ableton. A methodology seen in bright big city lights in “Honey” – a direct reinterpretation of A Taste of Honey’s “Boogie Oogie Oogie.” While vaporwave gets a democratic tag through its ability to resurrect “forgotten muzak dredged up from the depths of the web” (ref to article above), Future Funk/Nu Disco are pump life into well-known – universally recognized in the matter of “Boogie Oogie Oogie” – songs and sounds of yesteryear.
• Yung Bae: https://soundcloud.com/therealyungbae
“‘67 Dressing Room”
Head Boggle, Headboggle, Hillboggle… who is this guy and how exactly do I type his name properly into a post on Tiny Mix Tapes? Answer: D-e-r-e-k G-e-d-a-l-e-c-i-a is how you properly type at least the name of the person who’s behind this synapse-zapping music. He’s a Bay Area noisenik who’s been known to incorporate a plethora of different instruments into his work while collaborating with a number of different musicians over the last several years, leaving yard upon yard of spent tape in his wake.
The music he’s made has hovered somewhat unstably within a bubble of the more typical, run-of-the-mill bedroom synths and string-based instruments for the most part. But here for his first release on Experimedia, Serge Modular in Hi-Fi (which follows a full-length LP on Spectrum Spools and flurry of cassette releases), Gedalecia employed what’s known as a Serge Modular synthesizer, or in layman’s terms, one of those big boxes with all the cables and jacks on it — the type of thing that looks a lot more impressive than you might think it probably sounds, that is, until you actually hear it being played by someone who knows what they’re doing. And so, the question becomes: Does Gedalecia know what he’s doing with this Serge Modular for “‘67 Dressing Room?” The answer to that I can say with a certain degree of honesty that…. well, I just have absolutely no idea.
Whether or not Gedalecia knows what he’s doing with a gigantic modular synthesizer at his disposal doesn’t keep this video sample and music from being any less mesmeric, unsettling, and awesome than it actually is, which is precisely why I keep clicking play on the following clip. Rumbling static, raygun blasts and radar blips with a healthy dose of fuzz to fill out the spaces while colored faces peek through sheets of video noise with sunken eyes and menacing smiles. It’s creepy as fuck and totally weird, and we’re here now, so… you know, why the hell not? Ga’head, hit play:
Music genres come and go all the time. Some of them leave an audible mark on all the music to come. Others just become short-lived fads with little to offer. Some musicians jump the bandwagons and quickly leave for another one, others just keep doing their thing, unphased by the changing currents. The Californian ambientalist known as simply Sun An is the latter.
On Sun An’s newest album, Ice Cream Memory Card, he keeps doing the most classic ambient meditations one can imagine – lengthy, floating, and about as varied as Bonneville Salt Flats. It’s a prime-time wall of deep relaxation, the kind of music one plays when they wish to stop to exist for a moment and just dissolve into aether. To assist in doing this, Sun An has collaborated with Californian multi-media artist Jennifer Juniper Stratford to create a wonderfully smeared lo-fi video, where abstract shapes and patterns float through one another and slowly shift, as if pushed forward by a lazy generative process reminiscent of the good ol’screensavers.
If you wasted hours as a kid staring at the abstract shapes of screensavers, you’ll love “Rest Easy” by Sun An and Jennifer Juniper Stratford
• Sun An: http://www.sun-an.com