#cameroon music

[bicphlex]

#bigflexagain

[afrofunk]

Alex Zitto - Tickle Me (1989) [FLAC]

- Contact me for digital exchange!

[franckbiyong]

Oladipo (feat. Chief Udoh Essiet, Tony Allen) “We’re thrilled to present Oladipo, the first single from Franck Biyong’s forthcoming 'Radio Masoda' album on Tangential Music. The Cameroonian master musician and composer is joined by the equally masterful Chief Udoh Essiet (Fela Kuti & Egypt 80, Roy Ayers, King Sunny Ade) from Nigeria on this exhilarating tribute to their belovedelder Tony Allen, the co-founder of Afrobeat and one of the greatest drummers ever. Propelled by Tony Allen’s high energy drumming (from when they all recorded together) and with passionately sung Yoruba lyrics that were written originally as a funeral mourn to him by Chief Udoh, Oladipo sounds more of a celebration than a memorial. As vital as anything from the ‘golden age’ of African music, this is a stunning tribute to one of the elders who made it so golden”

[mywifeleftme]

314: Manu Dibango // O Boso

O Boso Manu Dibango 1972, London Records

In 2014, a Discogs user who goes by the handle nyuorican wrote on the page for Manu Dibango's O Boso/Soul Makossa, “Such an amazing album, musically it deserves to be like a $500 album easily, we're so lucky a lot were pressed up and kept circulating.” As criticism it’s not making Craig Jenkins sweat or anything, but it’ll probably be a more decisive assessment for anyone curious about Afro-jazz/funk of whether to listen than any of my blather. Original copies of stuff this good in this genre from this region almost invariably costs the same as a dog bred like a Spanish Habsburg, but thanks to the worldwide success of its pioneering single “Soul Makossa” this shouldn’t run you much more than $20. That’s a steal for music that grooves like this does.

Dibango wrote and arranged everything here and, as his note on the back cover makes explicit, his goal is to pay tribute to the common African roots of contemporary global Black music (jazz, soul, calypso, samba, etc.) via fusion. The Cameroonian sax giant surrounds himself with a crack band of African, Caribbean, and French jazz players, and the sheer variety of skills they bring to the table gives him great latitude to explore. The chords of “Dangwa” have the joyous lilt of African dance music but the bassline could be an R&B banger, while Dibango’s freaky sax runs are straight modal jazz. “Hibiscus” is soul jazz that would make Roy Ayers proud, Dibango’s horn blowing a lonely mating call while the casually funky electric piano, congos, and wacka-wacka guitar sketch an image of a hot city night after the clubs let out.

Of course, it’s “Soul Makossa,” an emissary of the makossa sound of Cameroon that predicts the disco wave, that towers over the rest in terms of influence, and it’s difficult to imagine how novel its minimalist percussive strut, echoing Duala-language ad libs, and deluxe horn hits must’ve sounded in the era. It’s one of those records where you can hear a bit of everything that was to come in Black music, from Chic to Kurtis Blow to Prince—partially because it’s been so frequently sampled that it literally is a bit of everything that was to come in Black music. But don’t sleep on opener “New Bell” either, a less hooky track in the same general mold, but one that rolls extremely deep.

314/365

[kimludcom]

Libianca - People (Official Video)

[queerafricans]

Recent African LGBTQ Content (as of September 2022)

[1000-year-old-virgin]

Libianca - Jah

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

Meet Jail Time Records, the collective running a record label from Cameroon's toughest prison.

More specifically, Douala Central Prison, which not only houses a string of Jail Time-affiliated rappers, producers and artists, but a permanent recording studio where hundreds of demos, instrumentals and fully-fleshed out tracks have been laid down since it opened back in 2018. It’s through this studio that a number of inmates (both current and former) have been able to hone their talents, refine skills – musical and otherwise – and experience creative enrichment seldom found within the system.

The project was founded by artist, filmmaker and teacher Dione Roach after living in Cameroon between 2017 and 2018, where she worked for Italian NGO, Centro Orientamento Educativo. As part of her work, she would visit the prison and deliver creative workshops. It was during this period that she first encountered some of the talented musicians and rappers incarcerated within. Roach then obtained financial support from Centro Orientamento Educativo to build a recording studio inside the prison – the first of its kind in an African jail. The goal was to offer a necessary creative outlet and birth something that could support the social reintegration of the inmates – offering a new focus, or even a career goal. Perhaps even change the narratives surrounding prison life in the process.

In January 2019, Steve Happi, who also goes by the alias Vidou H, joined the crew. As a multi-instrumentalist, sound engineer, producer and singer, Happi is Jail Time Records’ enthusiastic in-house producer and co-founder. When he met Roach, he was an inmate of Douala Central Prison. While inside, he managed the studio, its schedule, and recorded hundreds of songs spanning genres such as hip-hop, Afrobeat, gospel and more. He elevated his own craft too, picking up music theory and technical knowledge through experimentation but also necessity.

Over the past few years, Jail Time’s output has largely consisted of music videos. However, the label is now set to release its first album. Jail Time Vol. 1 is a genre-weaving, 22-track compilation that celebrates the scope of the artists involved and their unique perspectives. It’s raw, moving and built with the kind of resilience that can only stem from an environment that’s equally, if not more, intense than the music itself. Looking to the future, Roach and Happi have big plans for Jail Time. In the meantime, though, we caught up with them to reflect on the project’s beginnings, the studio and prison reform.

Dione, how did you cross paths with Steve?

Dione: As part of my NGO work I taught painting classes to the underaged detainees. Then I moved to the courtyard with the adults. I was organising some events with hip-hop dancers [who would] come and give some workshops and do freestyles. That’s when I met some of the rappers who were inside.

Steve: I wasn’t aware that people were building a studio inside the prison. Then, a friend of mine, who was also incarcerated, connected me with Dione. He knew that outside I was doing music. He told me, “You see the white girl coming inside prison? She’s building a studio here.” I went back to my cell for 10 minutes and he came running in and said she wanted to meet me.

How have your roles in the project changed over time?

S: At the start, she left me with these guys called La Meute Des Penseurs. I come from a hip-hop background, but I was more interested in researching singers or producers. That’s how the project became a little bit more open. We worked day and night – we didn’t even look at the time. To be honest, it was really the power of God, because we didn’t even feel the pain of it. We barely slept.

D: When I returned, they’d recorded more than 100 songs.

Is it fair to say this sort of project is somewhat rare?

S: Having a recording studio inside a prison? It’s so rare! That’s why, for me, it’s God’s plan. Even the media and journalists of Cameroon are wondering, how is it possible? Interest around the project is growing. You know, Cameroon, at this moment, is very political. It’s really delicate to have people inside prison recording.

D: Also, in general, there aren’t many organised creative activities. Art is not considered that relevant; it’s not given that much space. Things are changing, there are a few more galleries opening up and trying to really interact more with communities. But mostly everything is centred around – in terms of culture – the French Institute.

What were the early workshops like?

D: Before there was a studio, there was this rap collective. We would meet every day with the idea to make an album. There were maybe 10, 15 of them and there were daily rehearsals, open mic-style. I would give them books to write their lyrics in and brought in some mentors. Steve would teach sound engineering and production to whoever was interested, too.

How was the project received?

S: It was pure excitement. Being in prison is really difficult because you basically live in a square; most activities you are willing to do because everything is boring. There are different kinds of people here: people who come just to pass the time, and people who are really passionate about music. There are people who have talent, but they’re not wanting to build a career. There were a couple guys who came just to hear music, vibe, give advice. It was a bit of everything, like life!

How does a typical session work?

S: At the beginning, it was a problem because there was too much pride because, say, this one is not on good terms with the other one and they meet in the studio. I was kind of babysitting them, I really was. But we made a schedule to control the situation. You have to learn who works well with others.

Like life.

S: Managing – that’s life, you know? Over time, it became more about who was willing. At first, everyone was really enthusiastic. Now, when they see the work behind it, they disappear. We have less people coming daily but we have the most passionate ones. That’s a beautiful part of the adventure.

What kind of genres crop up most frequently? Not just on the album, but in general. Is there anything that you hear more regularly?

D: There have been a lot of hip-hop artists, a lot of Afrobeats. There are less traditional artists but that’s something we want to work on; finding ways to merge electronic beats with traditional singing. And in terms of lyrics and themes, what the artists sing about is very varied. There are a lot of songs about mothers.

S: They miss their mothers too much, they are babies! [laughs]

I guess that’s like outside life, too.

S: That’s true. We have a lot of songs about mothers – even girlfriends. “We miss you, behind bars” or “Mother, I miss your good food, I just want to eat couscous, eru, plantain...”

- Jasmine Kent-Smith, “Jail Time Records is a collective and non-profit record label based out of Douala, Cameroon.” Crack Magazine. April 21, 2021.

Image is Dione Roach during a recording session / video shoot.

[blatantlybluntblog]

Video: Libianca - People ft. Ayra Starr, Omah Lay

One of the biggest and best current songs from the afrobeat/afropop genre gets a well-deserved remix from two of the biggest names within that ecosystem.

[yonkyrus]

Ⓜⓞⓓⓔⓛ Ⓟⓗⓞⓣⓞ ░B░A░B░Y░B░L░C░K░ ░ A ░ F ░ R ░ I ░ C ░ A ░ Dᵢgᵢₜₐₗ ₐᵣₜᵢₛₜ @yonks.artwork 𝕐𝙊𝙉𝙆'𝙎 𝔸𝙍𝙏𝙒𝙊𝙍𝙆 📢Pɾҽɱιυɱ💯 @photoshop @illustrative_world @design @creators #photooftheday #photography #photochallenge #black #people #music #Yonkyrus #cameroon #stars #pictures #art #artist #illustration #hiphop #african #rap #smile #photo #musica #baby #children #family #design #white #photographer #intagood #africa #YonksArtwork #yonkyrus_officiel #specialeffects (à Afrique du sud) https://www.instagram.com/p/CkIUGG7Ioqx/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[tjezking]

Long Night Video out now. Don’t just watch, like comment and subscribe. 🔥💯✅

https://youtu.be/eoXvEh6-hIw

[afrofunk]

NST Cophies – Fayalargeau [FLAC]

- Contact me for digital exchange!

[franckbiyong]

Franck Biyong...New Single...LIWA YA WECH... Tribute to FRANCO LUAMBO & T.P O.K Jazz Out March 15th 2024 on TANGENTIAL MUSIC

[gentlespiion26]

Son of grace #Gentle_spiion

[kimludcom]

Libianca - People (Visualiser) ft. Becky G