BORN BAD RECORDS - Forced Exposure

$17.50 PREORDER RELEASE DATE: 5/10/2019

LP version. Includes six-page booklet in French and English. English title: Chevance (etc.): Another Music for Children 1975-1984. France at the crossroads of the '70s: the Chevance collection revolutionizes music for children. Mixing forward-thinking folk and avant-garde jazz, driven by a strong literary spirit, its exceptional catalog was created under the direction of producer Philippe Gavardin, in the tradition of the Saravah label or iconoclastic publisher Harlin Quist. It brought together a band of classically inspired free musicians, propelling its singers into orbit by exploiting all the fantastical potential of texts by Jean Tardieu, Robert Desnos, Jacqueline Held, and many others. More strictly instrumental, its younger sibling, the Sonoriage collection completed the company, dedicating itself to the acousmatic exploration of children's familiar environments. The small collection named Chevance was founded by Philippe Gavardin in the course of the 1970s. Gavardin, notably with free jazz drummer Jean-Louis Méchali, forged the identity of this series of recordings for the younger generations: musically Janus-faced, definitely literary, impregnated with a surrealism that echoed the decade's psychedelic and libertarian experiments. Each record took a clear direction: modern fables, bestiaries, musical tales, cookbooks; words were the backbone of every release. In the chanson category, Anne et Gilles alternated with the Swiss actress Cristine Combe who had recently settled in Paris and wanted to sing Kurt Weill; as for the folk projects, Imbert and Moreau, were more in the hippie vein, took turns with the canonical pioneer Steve Waring. The musicians included many jazzmen from the adventurous French scene, including Cohelmec Ensemble, The Marvelous Band, and various mavericks like Teddy Lasry or Jacques Cassard. Initially distributed by the label Le Chant du Monde, Chevance was definitely included in the catalog of this venerable parent company when Gavardin started directing it. Mixing songwriting and avant-garde jazz, Chevance seems to be, first of all, Saravah's younger sibling. Cohelmec Ensemble bridged the two worlds, the teams got to know one another and often worked in the same studios. As for the literary dimension, it is right in the lineage of the American iconoclastic publisher Harlin Quist, whose activity in France left its mark on the genre. The parallelism with Chevance goes even beyond questions of editorial, graphical, or typographical choices: the two worked with the same team of illustrators, which included Henri Galeron, Nicole Claveloux, and Patrick Couratin. While Chevance had strong literary roots, Le Chant du Monde developed, in the middle of the 1980s, another collection in a more abstract, rigorously instrumental line, far from textual concerns. Features Anne et Gilles, Steve Waring, Christine Combe, Jean-François Gaël, Le Groupe Organon, Alain Savouret, and Naomi Moudi.

$14.00 PREORDER RELEASE DATE: 5/10/2019

English title: Chevance (etc.): Another Music for Children 1975-1984. France at the crossroads of the '70s: the Chevance collection revolutionizes music for children. Mixing forward-thinking folk and avant-garde jazz, driven by a strong literary spirit, its exceptional catalog was created under the direction of producer Philippe Gavardin, in the tradition of the Saravah label or iconoclastic publisher Harlin Quist. It brought together a band of classically inspired free musicians, propelling its singers into orbit by exploiting all the fantastical potential of texts by Jean Tardieu, Robert Desnos, Jacqueline Held, and many others. More strictly instrumental, its younger sibling, the Sonoriage collection completed the company, dedicating itself to the acousmatic exploration of children's familiar environments. The small collection named Chevance was founded by Philippe Gavardin in the course of the 1970s. Gavardin, notably with free jazz drummer Jean-Louis Méchali, forged the identity of this series of recordings for the younger generations: musically Janus-faced, definitely literary, impregnated with a surrealism that echoed the decade's psychedelic and libertarian experiments. Each record took a clear direction: modern fables, bestiaries, musical tales, cookbooks; words were the backbone of every release. In the chanson category, Anne et Gilles alternated with the Swiss actress Cristine Combe who had recently settled in Paris and wanted to sing Kurt Weill; as for the folk projects, Imbert and Moreau, were more in the hippie vein, took turns with the canonical pioneer Steve Waring. The musicians included many jazzmen from the adventurous French scene, including Cohelmec Ensemble, The Marvelous Band, and various mavericks like Teddy Lasry or Jacques Cassard. Initially distributed by the label Le Chant du Monde, Chevance was definitely included in the catalog of this venerable parent company when Gavardin started directing it. Mixing songwriting and avant-garde jazz, Chevance seems to be, first of all, Saravah's younger sibling. Cohelmec Ensemble bridged the two worlds, the teams got to know one another and often worked in the same studios. As for the literary dimension, it is right in the lineage of the American iconoclastic publisher Harlin Quist, whose activity in France left its mark on the genre. The parallelism with Chevance goes even beyond questions of editorial, graphical, or typographical choices: the two worked with the same team of illustrators, which included Henri Galeron, Nicole Claveloux, and Patrick Couratin. While Chevance had strong literary roots, Le Chant du Monde developed, in the middle of the 1980s, another collection in a more abstract, rigorously instrumental line, far from textual concerns. Features Anne et Gilles, Steve Waring, Christine Combe, Jean-François Gaël, Le Groupe Organon, Alain Savouret, and Naomi Moudi. CD version includes 24-page booklet in both French and English.

$16.50 IN STOCK

LP version; includes printer inner sleeve and download. Cannibale return to Born Bad Records with Not Easy To Cook, their second album. If Cannibale's members brought their breakfast back up when talking about Not Easy To Cook, their listeners would be surprised. These fortysomethings signed by Born Bad Records, the image of greaser-looking garage rockers would come to mind, but with bits of exotica stuck between the teeth, Nino Nardini and Roger Roger's Jungle Obsession (1971) on the turntable, and plastic-bottled tropical glam puked by some incarnation of Wayne's World's (1992) Mike Myers. Why mention all this? Because there's a world of difference between the beginning of Cannibale's success story and this, their second album. It wouldn't take much to feel as if Freddie Mercury showed up in a Renault 16 to play marimba for old oafish rock fans. And actually, that's about it: The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975) meets Fela Kuti in rain boots. Between No Mercy For Love (BORNBAD 094CD/LP, 2017) and Not Easy To Cook, the group did not switch from psyche cumbia to coarse-grained autotune, but rather roamed roads like doped cyclists, playing more than 100 dates in less than a year, and a eulogistic press review; Johnny Hallyday himself did not get such media coverage! So what's Cannibale's secret? Being old and giving 19-year-old kids who just discovered marimba tutorials on YouTube a thrashing? Certainly, but it's a little more than a band of old fogeys. "The band learned it all on the road in less than two years," says Born Bad's Jean-Baptiste Guillot. Songwriting-wise, they've known how to do for a long time. The members, survivors of various projects, succeeded because nothing else than music mattered anymore. In that, the band's deviant trajectory is not so different from Vox Low's. But the most surprising thing about "Not Easy To Cook is the sultriness that emerges. It's hard to sum it up other than by comparing these ten songs with some pressure cooker in which bits of dancehall, London ska and Hawaiian dub would have cooked together. The small miracle achieved by this album, recorded by the band in its remote French village: sounding French, but Polynesian French. With Not Easy To Cook, frogs, birds, and sounds from the jungle can be heard in a living room. Those already traumatized by Arthur Lyman's vibraphone and Les Baxter's lounge music should feel at home.

$14.00 IN STOCK

Cannibale return to Born Bad Records with Not Easy To Cook, their second album. If Cannibale's members brought their breakfast back up when talking about Not Easy To Cook, their listeners would be surprised. These fortysomethings signed by Born Bad Records, the image of greaser-looking garage rockers would come to mind, but with bits of exotica stuck between the teeth, Nino Nardini and Roger Roger's Jungle Obsession (1971) on the turntable, and plastic-bottled tropical glam puked by some incarnation of Wayne's World's (1992) Mike Myers. Why mention all this? Because there's a world of difference between the beginning of Cannibale's success story and this, their second album. It wouldn't take much to feel as if Freddie Mercury showed up in a Renault 16 to play marimba for old oafish rock fans. And actually, that's about it: The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975) meets Fela Kuti in rain boots. Between No Mercy For Love (BORNBAD 094CD/LP, 2017) and Not Easy To Cook, the group did not switch from psyche cumbia to coarse-grained autotune, but rather roamed roads like doped cyclists, playing more than 100 dates in less than a year, and a eulogistic press review; Johnny Hallyday himself did not get such media coverage! So what's Cannibale's secret? Being old and giving 19-year-old kids who just discovered marimba tutorials on YouTube a thrashing? Certainly, but it's a little more than a band of old fogeys. "The band learned it all on the road in less than two years," says Born Bad's Jean-Baptiste Guillot. Songwriting-wise, they've known how to do for a long time. The members, survivors of various projects, succeeded because nothing else than music mattered anymore. In that, the band's deviant trajectory is not so different from Vox Low's. But the most surprising thing about "Not Easy To Cook is the sultriness that emerges. It's hard to sum it up other than by comparing these ten songs with some pressure cooker in which bits of dancehall, London ska and Hawaiian dub would have cooked together. The small miracle achieved by this album, recorded by the band in its remote French village: sounding French, but Polynesian French. With Not Easy To Cook, frogs, birds, and sounds from the jungle can be heard in a living room. Those already traumatized by Arthur Lyman's vibraphone and Les Baxter's lounge music should feel at home.

$17.50 IN STOCK

LP version; includes 4-page booklet and download. Born Bad Records present Antilles Mechant Bateau, a compilation of percussion-based music from Guadeloupe. More properly, the subject of this collection is musicians drumming on percussion as a way of asserting their creolized identity. Songs that tell, in veiled terms, a different reality from that what which mainlanders were fed. Special cases, with cries of joy and laments accompanied by cadences, as an invitation to trance, all immersed in the Caribbean melting pot of rhythm. A symbol of Guadeloupe's struggle for independence, the prominently featured ka drum became the soundtrack of a new generation, who sped up the tempo in the '70s and definitely transplanted it to town, while the plantation economy (the original soil of the ka drum) was in crisis. From then on, the old tambouyés (drummers) finally were celebrated as they should be: Anzala, Carnot, Serge Dolor, Ti Seles, Robert Loyson, Arthème Boisban, Esnard Boisdur, and especially Velo (born Marcel Lollia), who nevertheless died in misery, in the street, in 1984. As in the United States, blues and ka music fought the same battle against centuries of oppression, of negation, before finding the path to possible redemption. Between them, the same language, that of the Creole spirits, flooded the great ocean. This is what this selection is about, and its good, inborn sense of humor shouldn't hide the implicit commentaries. Here, jazz instills an emancipating energy from established formats, giving these songs a musicality that rhymes with spirituality. From infernal cadences borrowing from the Latin rhythms of neighboring islands, to beguines with percussion-spiced tempos, to more laid-back -- nonetheless dark -- ballads, this compilation takes the listener back to the early hours of a movement of rebirth synonymous with recognition, a rejuvenation in which all the music of the Black Atlantic diaspora naturally intertwine, like a wave of sounds, of sense and blood, reminding us that an original culture emerged from the holds of those 'wicked boats', the trace of which remains starkly persistent in 2018. Also features: Mahy, Guy Conquete, Joseph Lacides, Tino Saint Val, Gabby Siarras, Casimir Letang, Manuela Pioche, Gerard Valton, Beaujour Et Ses Diables Du Rythme, and Josiane Saint Louis.

$16.50 IN STOCK

LP version; includes printed inners and download. Of all the Cyrils born in the city of Calvin (Geneva) at the dawn of the '80s, these two were bound to find each other. Two Cyrils like two dizygotic souls whose contingencies have brought their meeting forward. Cyril Cyril. A liberated hydra, born in this city of diplomats where Borges duplicated his rejuvenated ego in The Other (1972). A muezzin without borders, Cyril Yeterian came to the disheveled world through Mama Rosin, a three-piece that stirred the ghosts of the rogue bayou, the clammy Mardi Gras of some electric Louisiana. Soon, the world fell in love with their flair. The BBC celebrated them, Jon Spencer produced them, records proliferated. And then in 2017, the honeymoon period passed; Cyril was alone. Within the same space-time, Cyril Bondi hit the road: Diatribes, La Tène, Insub Meta Orchestra, the most adventurous projects of the Geneva scene all included this percussionist in search of unheard beats. He soon found an accomplice for musical prospecting, another Cyril in tune with his rebellious instinct. A guitarist and an accordionist, Cyril Y. took on the banjo, adding effect pedals to it to turn it into a puny bouzouki, an epic bağlama or a krar. Cyril B. cobbled some cannibal drum kit together, with massive jingle bells and tropical nut shells embedded in his marching bass drum. For Cyril Cyril, music is a way of the world, a joyful decentration offering new keys to comprehend chaos. The point here has nothing to do with some globalized country excursion nor some gluten-free exoticism. Apart from tracing back the family pathway of some Lebanese dialect, Yeterian chants rhapsodies in French, the merciless terms of which say it all about coming insurrections. Certaines Ruines is thus a wordy lampoon of hoaxers, of neo-post-everything killjoys. Cyril Cyril know the superior power of suggestion, of temperance, of happy sobriety. A single word, a single cry can say a lot, as long as it is soulful. The sound of a duo reduced to its simplest expression: rhythm, a riff, a voice can bear within itself an infinitely luxuriant musical organism. Cyril Cyril, so real, so rich.

$14.00 IN STOCK

Born Bad Records present Antilles Mechant Bateau, a compilation of percussion-based music from Guadeloupe. More properly, the subject of this collection is musicians drumming on percussion as a way of asserting their creolized identity. Songs that tell, in veiled terms, a different reality from that what which mainlanders were fed. Special cases, with cries of joy and laments accompanied by cadences, as an invitation to trance, all immersed in the Caribbean melting pot of rhythm. A symbol of Guadeloupe's struggle for independence, the prominently featured ka drum became the soundtrack of a new generation, who sped up the tempo in the '70s and definitely transplanted it to town, while the plantation economy (the original soil of the ka drum) was in crisis. From then on, the old tambouyés (drummers) finally were celebrated as they should be: Anzala, Carnot, Serge Dolor, Ti Seles, Robert Loyson, Arthème Boisban, Esnard Boisdur, and especially Velo (born Marcel Lollia), who nevertheless died in misery, in the street, in 1984. As in the United States, blues and ka music fought the same battle against centuries of oppression, of negation, before finding the path to possible redemption. Between them, the same language, that of the Creole spirits, flooded the great ocean. This is what this selection is about, and its good, inborn sense of humor shouldn't hide the implicit commentaries. Here, jazz instills an emancipating energy from established formats, giving these songs a musicality that rhymes with spirituality. From infernal cadences borrowing from the Latin rhythms of neighboring islands, to beguines with percussion-spiced tempos, to more laid-back -- nonetheless dark -- ballads, this compilation takes the listener back to the early hours of a movement of rebirth synonymous with recognition, a rejuvenation in which all the music of the Black Atlantic diaspora naturally intertwine, like a wave of sounds, of sense and blood, reminding us that an original culture emerged from the holds of those 'wicked boats', the trace of which remains starkly persistent in 2018. Also features: Mahy, Guy Conquete, Joseph Lacides, Tino Saint Val, Gabby Siarras, Casimir Letang, Manuela Pioche, Gerard Valton, Beaujour Et Ses Diables Du Rythme, and Josiane Saint Louis. Digipak with 16 page booklet.

$14.00 IN STOCK

Of all the Cyrils born in the city of Calvin (Geneva) at the dawn of the '80s, these two were bound to find each other. Two Cyrils like two dizygotic souls whose contingencies have brought their meeting forward. Cyril Cyril. A liberated hydra, born in this city of diplomats where Borges duplicated his rejuvenated ego in The Other (1972). A muezzin without borders, Cyril Yeterian came to the disheveled world through Mama Rosin, a three-piece that stirred the ghosts of the rogue bayou, the clammy Mardi Gras of some electric Louisiana. Soon, the world fell in love with their flair. The BBC celebrated them, Jon Spencer produced them, records proliferated. And then in 2017, the honeymoon period passed; Cyril was alone. Within the same space-time, Cyril Bondi hit the road: Diatribes, La Tène, Insub Meta Orchestra, the most adventurous projects of the Geneva scene all included this percussionist in search of unheard beats. He soon found an accomplice for musical prospecting, another Cyril in tune with his rebellious instinct. A guitarist and an accordionist, Cyril Y. took on the banjo, adding effect pedals to it to turn it into a puny bouzouki, an epic bağlama or a krar. Cyril B. cobbled some cannibal drum kit together, with massive jingle bells and tropical nut shells embedded in his marching bass drum. For Cyril Cyril, music is a way of the world, a joyful decentration offering new keys to comprehend chaos. The point here has nothing to do with some globalized country excursion nor some gluten-free exoticism. Apart from tracing back the family pathway of some Lebanese dialect, Yeterian chants rhapsodies in French, the merciless terms of which say it all about coming insurrections. Certaines Ruines is thus a wordy lampoon of hoaxers, of neo-post-everything killjoys. Cyril Cyril know the superior power of suggestion, of temperance, of happy sobriety. A single word, a single cry can say a lot, as long as it is soulful. The sound of a duo reduced to its simplest expression: rhythm, a riff, a voice can bear within itself an infinitely luxuriant musical organism. Cyril Cyril, so real, so rich. CD in digipak with six page booklet.

$14.50 IN STOCK

Born Bad Records present the second volume Chebran, a series focusing on French boogie. The French in the '80s were not faint-hearted: as some threw themselves heart and soul into music or business, others wouldn't mind going bottomless to get themselves noticed. While Bernard Tapie soon realized his own fortune was rather to be found in business, many music-loving dreamers already imagined themselves in the sun, in an enchanting world made of funky rhythms and synthesizers. While the French National Front was growing in the shadow of François Mitterrand, these guys mixed New York-style funk with electronic, Eastern, or African sounds. With their genre-crossing arrangements and often chanted lyrics, they brought honor to the "SOS Racisme" generation, unconsciously outlining the nascent French contemporary urban culture. The French, while admiring Grace Jones' "savage beauty" in Jean-Paul Goude's advertisements, were enjoying their freshly-gained fifth week of paid vacation, tanning on the beaches of Maghreb. Following The Clash's example, punks and rockers converted to reggae, and the new independent radios opened up their programming to "world music". At the other end of the pyramid, the successive waves of immigration enriched France in a much better way. With the rise of "Youth and Culture Centers", the practice of musical instruments became affordable for those of humble background, allowing for new bands to appear. Caught between the spirit of Gallic bawdiness and their own community hopes, the musicians from this singular scene probably didn't succeed in life the way Bernard Tapie meant it. But their explorations left no room for doubt: by facilitating the rise of a new hybrid culture about to give birth, among others, to French hip-hop, those little-known artists indeed were off on an adventure, quite simply. Since the '60s, numerous venues destined for the North-African community had appeared all over France. In those bars and nightclubs, Eastern 45s were broadcast as well as local productions combining Raï, Frenchy funk, or proto-hip-hop. Thanks to the cassette tape medium, new songs kept circulating between Paris, Lille, Strasbourg, Marseilles, and many other urban areas -- mainly among the working class. The artists appearing on these compilations progressively shaped a new style, blending sounds from their original cultures and from their adopted country. Features Phil Barney, JM Black, Ettika, Sammy Massamba, Shams Dinn, Alfio Scandurra, Philippe Chany, Nordine Staiffi, Brigitte Et Michot, Alec Mansion, Marie Jose Fa, Hamidou, Ganawa, Creole Star, Manu, Ethnie, and Joel Ferrati.

$23.00 IN STOCK

Double LP version. Includes insert. Born Bad Records present the second volume Chebran, a series focusing on French boogie. The French in the '80s were not faint-hearted: as some threw themselves heart and soul into music or business, others wouldn't mind going bottomless to get themselves noticed. While Bernard Tapie soon realized his own fortune was rather to be found in business, many music-loving dreamers already imagined themselves in the sun, in an enchanting world made of funky rhythms and synthesizers. While the French National Front was growing in the shadow of François Mitterrand, these guys mixed New York-style funk with electronic, Eastern, or African sounds. With their genre-crossing arrangements and often chanted lyrics, they brought honor to the "SOS Racisme" generation, unconsciously outlining the nascent French contemporary urban culture. The French, while admiring Grace Jones' "savage beauty" in Jean-Paul Goude's advertisements, were enjoying their freshly-gained fifth week of paid vacation, tanning on the beaches of Maghreb. Following The Clash's example, punks and rockers converted to reggae, and the new independent radios opened up their programming to "world music". At the other end of the pyramid, the successive waves of immigration enriched France in a much better way. With the rise of "Youth and Culture Centers", the practice of musical instruments became affordable for those of humble background, allowing for new bands to appear. Caught between the spirit of Gallic bawdiness and their own community hopes, the musicians from this singular scene probably didn't succeed in life the way Bernard Tapie meant it. But their explorations left no room for doubt: by facilitating the rise of a new hybrid culture about to give birth, among others, to French hip-hop, those little-known artists indeed were off on an adventure, quite simply. Since the '60s, numerous venues destined for the North-African community had appeared all over France. In those bars and nightclubs, Eastern 45s were broadcast as well as local productions combining Raï, Frenchy funk, or proto-hip-hop. Thanks to the cassette tape medium, new songs kept circulating between Paris, Lille, Strasbourg, Marseilles, and many other urban areas -- mainly among the working class. The artists appearing on these compilations progressively shaped a new style, blending sounds from their original cultures and from their adopted country. Features Phil Barney, JM Black, Ettika, Sammy Massamba, Shams Dinn, Alfio Scandurra, Philippe Chany, Nordine Staiffi, Brigitte Et Michot, Alec Mansion, Marie Jose Fa, Hamidou, Ganawa, Creole Star, Manu, Ethnie, and Joel Ferrati.

$17.50 IN STOCK

LP version. Printed undersleeve. A few years before Upper Volta changed its name to Burkina Faso, thanks to Thomas Sankara's dream of a new society, Voltaic music emerged as some kind of true cultural revolution in the wake of the country's independence in 1960. Popular music that sprung up from Burkina Faso owed much to the music from neighboring countries and to the longing for "cultural authenticity" conveyed through Guinean music. The first two decades of independence saw the upcoming of such orchestras and artists, such as Pierre Sandwidi. Nicknamed "the troubadour from the bush", Pierre Sandwidi stands as one of the finest Voltaic artists from the 1970s. He belonged to an unsung elite of Francophone artists such as Francis Bebey, G.G. Vickey, André-Marie Tala, or Mamo Lagbema. His entire released output consists of less than ten 7"s, two LPs, and a bunch of cassettes. Along with his friends Jean-Bernard Samboué, Abdoulaye Cissé, Oger Kaboré, Joseph Salambéré, or Richard Seydou Traoré, he was part of the "vedettes en herbe" movement. Their songs were played on the national radio before being released as a single, recorded live in the studio. In 1970, Pierre Sandwidi traveled across the country, working for the state. He met Bobo-Dioulasso cultural entrepreneur and Volta Jazz boss Idrissa Koné, who offered him to record a few songs for his own imprint, Disques Paysans Noirs. Sandwidi delivered "Lucie", a romantic song in the classic mandingo vein. In 1975, Pierre Sandwidi recorded two more singles at the Maison du Peuple. Using an Akai recorder as a soundboard, he was backed by Super Volta's mighty guitar player Désiré Traoré. In 1976, he recorded three more 45s with L'Harmonie Voltaïque as a backing band. In 1979, while in Abidjan, Pierre Sandwidi recorded his first full length LP with the help of Voltaic Prince Edouard Ouedraogo. He launched his own "callao" dance, as a homage to this Sahelian bird that bounces instead of walking. Confronted with many temptations, Sandwidi sang about his will to stay true to his values, being first and foremost an African. A true callao song, "Mariétou" sounds like genuine French Sahelian pop. After Sankara's fall in 1987, Sandwidi distanced himself from politics, focusing on writing new songs and plays. Twenty years after he died, this compilation stands as a vibrant tribute to one of West Africa's most outstanding and adamant artists.

$14.00 IN STOCK

A few years before Upper Volta changed its name to Burkina Faso, thanks to Thomas Sankara's dream of a new society, Voltaic music emerged as some kind of true cultural revolution in the wake of the country's independence in 1960. Popular music that sprung up from Burkina Faso owed much to the music from neighboring countries and to the longing for "cultural authenticity" conveyed through Guinean music. The first two decades of independence saw the upcoming of such orchestras and artists, such as Pierre Sandwidi. Nicknamed "the troubadour from the bush", Pierre Sandwidi stands as one of the finest Voltaic artists from the 1970s. He belonged to an unsung elite of Francophone artists such as Francis Bebey, G.G. Vickey, André-Marie Tala, or Mamo Lagbema. His entire released output consists of less than ten 7"s, two LPs, and a bunch of cassettes. Along with his friends Jean-Bernard Samboué, Abdoulaye Cissé, Oger Kaboré, Joseph Salambéré, or Richard Seydou Traoré, he was part of the "vedettes en herbe" movement. Their songs were played on the national radio before being released as a single, recorded live in the studio. In 1970, Pierre Sandwidi traveled across the country, working for the state. He met Bobo-Dioulasso cultural entrepreneur and Volta Jazz boss Idrissa Koné, who offered him to record a few songs for his own imprint, Disques Paysans Noirs. Sandwidi delivered "Lucie", a romantic song in the classic mandingo vein. In 1975, Pierre Sandwidi recorded two more singles at the Maison du Peuple. Using an Akai recorder as a soundboard, he was backed by Super Volta's mighty guitar player Désiré Traoré. In 1976, he recorded three more 45s with L'Harmonie Voltaïque as a backing band. In 1979, while in Abidjan, Pierre Sandwidi recorded his first full length LP with the help of Voltaic Prince Edouard Ouedraogo. He launched his own "callao" dance, as a homage to this Sahelian bird that bounces instead of walking. Confronted with many temptations, Sandwidi sang about his will to stay true to his values, being first and foremost an African. A true callao song, "Mariétou" sounds like genuine French Sahelian pop. After Sankara's fall in 1987, Sandwidi distanced himself from politics, focusing on writing new songs and plays. Twenty years after he died, this compilation stands as a vibrant tribute to one of West Africa's most outstanding and adamant artists. CD digipack includes 16-page booklet.

$12.50 IN STOCK

You can count on the fingers of one hand the bands you've loved up until their fifth album like J.C. Satàn -- almost ten years after falling in love. There are dudes who have "seen them too much", heard them too much, and stopped expecting anything from them anymore. The Satàn crew did not deliver a fifth album just for the hell of it, just to justify their next tour: they got together to seek the rare fuel, the miraculous current able to galvanize our sleeping senses, the electroshock forcing us to revive the urgent impression of being alive. Centaur Desire has something of a new first-time record -- recorded all together (Arthur and Dorian used to handle all instruments themselves), enhanced by an incredibly powerful sonority (gear has piled up over the last years), and filled with a new groove (Romain finally plays his drum parts, and it's fantastic). Never where you'd expect it, Paula's voice adds to the pervading climate of freshness. A formula had to be found, that combines an undeniable talent for composition with devastating live fury. Here it is, and some of this on-stage gold stabilized to get cut on record and reproduced endlessly until reaching our speakers. If the modern-era Nicholas Flamel extracting this yellow metal out of peat was called Josh Homme or Black Rebel Something, the whole world would be murmuring the ecstasy of court's flatterers. At a time when the aforementioned bigwigs are composing a supposedly magnum umpteenth opus that smacks a lot of schlock, J.C. Satàn release something that dashes all of them with the cheerfulness of freaks and the Rabelaisian, farcical mirth of a horny centaur inviting us to Pan's great farandole, in the setting of a Manowar sleeve. "Centaur Desire!" declaims a sonorous voice on the title song, just like one would invoke some demon/leviathan to lay low an army of muddy killer whales by hitting them with burning dildos. Like a superlative life, an explosion of springtime sap accompanying the great universal libidinous rush that seizes us in the cosmic shag or in the mosh pit. No doubt the fact that this fifth album is their best one to date is quite uncommon and leads one to wonder.

$17.50 LOW STOCK LEVEL

LP version. Printed undersleeve. A master of the mixing board from the late '60s until the '90s, Bernard Estardy was the wizard of French musical recordings. As head of CBE studios, he shaped everything from Gérard Manset's concept albums to Claude François's hit singles, Françoise Hardy's delicate tear-jerkers and Michel Sardou's soul-stirrers. This "giant" had his hand in the whole range of mainstream French music by making his studio a veritable playground for experimentation. His legendary album La Formule du Baron, released in 1969, and the eight LPs of production music he made between 1974 and 1978 for Tele Music are vivid proof. Born Bad Records present Bernard Estardy's Space Oddities 1970-1982, a collection of his work.

$17.50 IN STOCK

LP version. Printed undersleeve. You can count on the fingers of one hand the bands you've loved up until their fifth album like J.C. Satàn -- almost ten years after falling in love. There are dudes who have "seen them too much", heard them too much, and stopped expecting anything from them anymore. The Satàn crew did not deliver a fifth album just for the hell of it, just to justify their next tour: they got together to seek the rare fuel, the miraculous current able to galvanize our sleeping senses, the electroshock forcing us to revive the urgent impression of being alive. Centaur Desire has something of a new first-time record -- recorded all together (Arthur and Dorian used to handle all instruments themselves), enhanced by an incredibly powerful sonority (gear has piled up over the last years), and filled with a new groove (Romain finally plays his drum parts, and it's fantastic). Never where you'd expect it, Paula's voice adds to the pervading climate of freshness. A formula had to be found, that combines an undeniable talent for composition with devastating live fury. Here it is, and some of this on-stage gold stabilized to get cut on record and reproduced endlessly until reaching our speakers. If the modern-era Nicholas Flamel extracting this yellow metal out of peat was called Josh Homme or Black Rebel Something, the whole world would be murmuring the ecstasy of court's flatterers. At a time when the aforementioned bigwigs are composing a supposedly magnum umpteenth opus that smacks a lot of schlock, J.C. Satàn release something that dashes all of them with the cheerfulness of freaks and the Rabelaisian, farcical mirth of a horny centaur inviting us to Pan's great farandole, in the setting of a Manowar sleeve. "Centaur Desire!" declaims a sonorous voice on the title song, just like one would invoke some demon/leviathan to lay low an army of muddy killer whales by hitting them with burning dildos. Like a superlative life, an explosion of springtime sap accompanying the great universal libidinous rush that seizes us in the cosmic shag or in the mosh pit. No doubt the fact that this fifth album is their best one to date is quite uncommon and leads one to wonder.

$12.50 NOT IN STOCK

A master of the mixing board from the late '60s until the '90s, Bernard Estardy was the wizard of French musical recordings. As head of CBE studios, he shaped everything from Gérard Manset's concept albums to Claude François's hit singles, Françoise Hardy's delicate tear-jerkers and Michel Sardou's soul-stirrers. This "giant" had his hand in the whole range of mainstream French music by making his studio a veritable playground for experimentation. His legendary album La Formule du Baron, released in 1969, and the eight LPs of production music he made between 1974 and 1978 for Tele Music are vivid proof. Born Bad Records present Bernard Estardy's Space Oddities 1970-1982, a collection of his work. CD version includes a 16-page booklet with text in English and French. LP version includes printed undersleeve.

$14.00 IN STOCK

Pierre Vassiliu had always been reduced. Few were the real fans, who had explored all angles and taken the measure of the man. Maybe his rhymes weren't that rich, the instrumentation not too lush, the production quite laid-back, and the timbre rather little demanding, but you could be sure the song would be pampered. Because Vassiliu continuously tried to remodel his career, from a chansonnier to a cunning singer, from tender to comical, to a beatnik poet, to an ethno-artist, to a venue manager, to a showman, to a barfly. 1961: Pierre Vassiliu, a horse rider and a war photographer, embarks with his brother Michel (lyricist) in the music business. Their department: comedy. Lucky break, it works. Georges Brassens champions him and writes a few laudatory lines on his first 45 -- Vassiliu is launched. The sassy man sets to putting sweet songs on his singles, such as "Le Manège Désenchanté" on the B-side to Ivanohé in 1965. He also participates in the French-Brazilian adventure of Les Masques, with an album that has become a cult item thirty years later. Within a few weeks, it's in the bag: three 45s are released by Barclay, along with a first LP, Amour Amitié (1970), on which he appears sensitive and very forthcoming with stories about himself. This LP has little success, just like the following singles, including Marie En Provence (1974). No success either for the second album "Attends" (1972), either. He loses Barclay's trust and now only has the right to record singles, on a quest for a hit. Three more 45s and finally comes the supreme misunderstanding: "Qui C'est Celui-Là" (1973). Millions were sold, and the label improvises an album made up of the previous 45s. A dark period follows, during which he finds himself torn between the euphoria of success and its vanity, between the love he gets and the reasons given, between Paris and Provence, between his wife and other women. Marie, too often abandoned and sick of egocentricity, leaves for good; he flees to India, gets lost, reinvents himself and releases a series of three dark, light albums. After the 1980s, that was it. During the 1990s, his music takes a South-American direction. He hardly releases anything until 2003. Pierre Vassiliu dies from Parkinson's disease in 2015. CD version includes 36-page booklet.

$17.50 IN STOCK

LP version. Includes printed undersleeve, Pierre Vassiliu had always been reduced. Few were the real fans, who had explored all angles and taken the measure of the man. Maybe his rhymes weren't that rich, the instrumentation not too lush, the production quite laid-back, and the timbre rather little demanding, but you could be sure the song would be pampered. Because Vassiliu continuously tried to remodel his career, from a chansonnier to a cunning singer, from tender to comical, to a beatnik poet, to an ethno-artist, to a venue manager, to a showman, to a barfly. 1961: Pierre Vassiliu, a horse rider and a war photographer, embarks with his brother Michel (lyricist) in the music business. Their department: comedy. Lucky break, it works. Georges Brassens champions him and writes a few laudatory lines on his first 45 -- Vassiliu is launched. The sassy man sets to putting sweet songs on his singles, such as "Le Manège Désenchanté" on the B-side to Ivanohé in 1965. He also participates in the French-Brazilian adventure of Les Masques, with an album that has become a cult item thirty years later. Within a few weeks, it's in the bag: three 45s are released by Barclay, along with a first LP, Amour Amitié (1970), on which he appears sensitive and very forthcoming with stories about himself. This LP has little success, just like the following singles, including Marie En Provence (1974). No success either for the second album "Attends" (1972), either. He loses Barclay's trust and now only has the right to record singles, on a quest for a hit. Three more 45s and finally comes the supreme misunderstanding: "Qui C'est Celui-Là" (1973). Millions were sold, and the label improvises an album made up of the previous 45s. A dark period follows, during which he finds himself torn between the euphoria of success and its vanity, between the love he gets and the reasons given, between Paris and Provence, between his wife and other women. Marie, too often abandoned and sick of egocentricity, leaves for good; he flees to India, gets lost, reinvents himself and releases a series of three dark, light albums. After the 1980s, that was it. During the 1990s, his music takes a South-American direction. He hardly releases anything until 2003. Pierre Vassiliu dies from Parkinson's disease in 2015.

$12.50 NOT IN STOCK

Enough with right-wing hedonist disco, let's put the Donna Summer records away and dig out Éliphas Lévi's big black book: Can, The Fall, or Peter Gabriel-era Genesis. This is a time for punk urgency, for depressed minimal krautrock, for the great shamanic hypnosis. This bunch of greasers from the Porte de St Ouen area now perform as Vox Low, with Jean-Christophe Couderc (vocals, synth) and Benoît Raymond (bass guitar, guitar, synth), later joined by Mathieu Autin (drums, percussions), and Guillaume Léglise (guitar, synths) for setting up live performances. Seeing the combo on stage is an act of faith, a celebration of dark forces. Far from lazy live performances on Ableton, Vox Low is like an acid-house version of the Jesus & Mary Chain on stage and now, after a few EPs and remixes, they turn up on an insolently rock n' roll label, Born Bad Records. They stylishly surf between '60s rockabilly influences and cold, minimal techno from around Cologne, or Berlin's Zoologischer Garten Station. These children of the court of the Crimson King, climb onto the tables, and piss on the silverware and hold a superb black mass for a bunch of hippies high on mandrax and dressed in rags and sheepskins. Vox Low manages to set a "sauerkraut" Morricone-rock atmosphere of its own, hypnotic and druggy. Krautrock with an inimitable '60s bass sound, a trippy discarnate voice combined with some Moe Tucker-style drumming. "You Are A Slave" is a punk, nihilist topic for a straightforward cold-as-a-razor-blade title. There are hits as well, such as "Something Is Wrong", their anthem for a jilted generation coming down from MDMA. A song like "Some Word Of Faith" places the record under the seal of the gospels, the holy scriptures, and Depeche Mode's Songs Of Faith And Devotion album (1993). Half muggy industrial, half leather rockabilly: like Frankie Goes To Hollywood covering Led Zeppelin. In "Rides Alone", Vox Low conjures up the suicided body of INXS' Michael Hutchence. With "Trapped On The Moon" and "Rejuvenation", the Parisians deliver a certain idea of modernity: a cardboard western feel à la Morricone, as goth as the Sisters Of Mercy, and VHS retro-futurism. Vox Low delivers a dark, poisonous, nihilist, and erudite piece of work for those who worship Primal Scream's Screamadelica (1991) and Gary Numan. CD version comes in a digipack; Includes 16-page booklet.

$17.00 NOT IN STOCK

LP version. Printed under sleeve. Enough with right-wing hedonist disco, let's put the Donna Summer records away and dig out Éliphas Lévi's big black book: Can, The Fall, or Peter Gabriel-era Genesis. This is a time for punk urgency, for depressed minimal krautrock, for the great shamanic hypnosis. This bunch of greasers from the Porte de St Ouen area now perform as Vox Low, with Jean-Christophe Couderc (vocals, synth) and Benoît Raymond (bass guitar, guitar, synth), later joined by Mathieu Autin (drums, percussions), and Guillaume Léglise (guitar, synths) for setting up live performances. Seeing the combo on stage is an act of faith, a celebration of dark forces. Far from lazy live performances on Ableton, Vox Low is like an acid-house version of the Jesus & Mary Chain on stage and now, after a few EPs and remixes, they turn up on an insolently rock n' roll label, Born Bad Records. They stylishly surf between '60s rockabilly influences and cold, minimal techno from around Cologne, or Berlin's Zoologischer Garten Station. These children of the court of the Crimson King, climb onto the tables, and piss on the silverware and hold a superb black mass for a bunch of hippies high on mandrax and dressed in rags and sheepskins. Vox Low manages to set a "sauerkraut" Morricone-rock atmosphere of its own, hypnotic and druggy. Krautrock with an inimitable '60s bass sound, a trippy discarnate voice combined with some Moe Tucker-style drumming. "You Are A Slave" is a punk, nihilist topic for a straightforward cold-as-a-razor-blade title. There are hits as well, such as "Something Is Wrong", their anthem for a jilted generation coming down from MDMA. A song like "Some Word Of Faith" places the record under the seal of the gospels, the holy scriptures, and Depeche Mode's Songs Of Faith And Devotion album (1993). Half muggy industrial, half leather rockabilly: like Frankie Goes To Hollywood covering Led Zeppelin. In "Rides Alone", Vox Low conjures up the suicided body of INXS' Michael Hutchence. With "Trapped On The Moon" and "Rejuvenation", the Parisians deliver a certain idea of modernity: a cardboard western feel à la Morricone, as goth as the Sisters Of Mercy, and VHS retro-futurism. Vox Low delivers a dark, poisonous, nihilist, and erudite piece of work for those who worship Primal Scream's Screamadelica (1991) and Gary Numan.

$12.50 IN STOCK

You might know Émile Sornin as the son, the pupil, who saw fathers of his among the pioneers of baroque, progressive, and psychedelic pop; who found big brothers by heart and aesthetics in Aquaserge; the (nearly) solitary creator of the "fine retro-maniac piece of work" (The Drone), Rhapsode, in 2014 (BORNBAD 066CD/LP). After experiences in metal, garage, hip hop, he had spent a lot of time exploring, mixing together, digging, getting to the roots with the seriousness of a young man on a quest for territories to occupy. An insatiable jack-of-all-trades, he directed delirious videos for Dizzee Rascal or Disclosure when he wasn't combing the countryside to discover new instruments -- the movie Le Bon Coin Forever (2016). Here is Émile Sornin the (new) father, the dubbed artist, the one-man-studio fully aware of his essential influences (French '70s movie soundtracks -- Philippe Sarde, François De Roubaix, Francis Lai -- rather than Italian giallo soundtracks, synth pioneers such as Wendy Carlos or Mort Garson, library music à la Camille Sauvage, Claude Vasori, and Roger Roger); the captain of a dense, tight live band. The man called by producer Sebastian to the bedside of -- scoop -- Charlotte Gainsbourg's next album. The man who just gave birth to La Pantoufle. From shore to shore, Émile Sornin incorporated into his music the humor and self-mockery he didn't dare to embrace in the past. He dropped English to explore sideways his mother tongue, the tongue that says "ça lance", "ça m'est égal", and "c'est pas si dégueu". He unleashed his instrumental eloquence -- more obsessive than ever arrangement-wise, more jazz and nervous execution-wise, not balking at any dramatic effect to seize the listener's perceptions. Most importantly, he drew on his own memories and blanks ("La Pantoufle Dans Le Puits", "La Soupe À La Grolle", "Les Groseilles Au Fond Du Jardin") to give rise to suspense, fiction, and interpretations. Built as an imaginary movie in which genres collide from one scene to the next (crime film, romance, comedy, erotica, slasher -- you name it), La Pantoufle draws on childhood joys and terrors, only to reenchant them. This is how Forever Pavot takes on its role as a "Father", laying the foundations for a bright future.

$16.50 IN STOCK

LP version. You might know Émile Sornin as the son, the pupil, who saw fathers of his among the pioneers of baroque, progressive, and psychedelic pop; who found big brothers by heart and aesthetics in Aquaserge; the (nearly) solitary creator of the "fine retro-maniac piece of work" (The Drone), Rhapsode, in 2014 (BORNBAD 066CD/LP). After experiences in metal, garage, hip hop, he had spent a lot of time exploring, mixing together, digging, getting to the roots with the seriousness of a young man on a quest for territories to occupy. An insatiable jack-of-all-trades, he directed delirious videos for Dizzee Rascal or Disclosure when he wasn't combing the countryside to discover new instruments -- the movie Le Bon Coin Forever (2016). Here is Émile Sornin the (new) father, the dubbed artist, the one-man-studio fully aware of his essential influences (French '70s movie soundtracks -- Philippe Sarde, François De Roubaix, Francis Lai -- rather than Italian giallo soundtracks, synth pioneers such as Wendy Carlos or Mort Garson, library music à la Camille Sauvage, Claude Vasori, and Roger Roger); the captain of a dense, tight live band. The man called by producer Sebastian to the bedside of -- scoop -- Charlotte Gainsbourg's next album. The man who just gave birth to La Pantoufle. From shore to shore, Émile Sornin incorporated into his music the humor and self-mockery he didn't dare to embrace in the past. He dropped English to explore sideways his mother tongue, the tongue that says "ça lance", "ça m'est égal", and "c'est pas si dégueu". He unleashed his instrumental eloquence -- more obsessive than ever arrangement-wise, more jazz and nervous execution-wise, not balking at any dramatic effect to seize the listener's perceptions. Most importantly, he drew on his own memories and blanks ("La Pantoufle Dans Le Puits", "La Soupe À La Grolle", "Les Groseilles Au Fond Du Jardin") to give rise to suspense, fiction, and interpretations. Built as an imaginary movie in which genres collide from one scene to the next (crime film, romance, comedy, erotica, slasher -- you name it), La Pantoufle draws on childhood joys and terrors, only to reenchant them. This is how Forever Pavot takes on its role as a "Father", laying the foundations for a bright future.

$15.50 IN STOCK

LP version. Includes printed undersleeve, "The passenger has set up camp inside your body, and you can't remember if it happened yesterday or if she's always been there. Her crimson hair irradiates your blood as chants and laughs spill from the bedroom. The vessel shudders then arches as the loving parasite bites the back of your neck. In the mirror, bright red gum, milky teeth. The face that suddenly eyes you has painted the town over and poisoned the source. The orchestra of persisting ghosts wanted to record a Bob Dylan album that would sound like Iggy Pop The Idiot. All the while, you were delirious in a smoke-filled aquarium in a car with its windows sealed. Then, the wreck abandoned in a ditch, we took the sea towards California. On the bridge, the virus of the passenger gives her flesh to your starry silhouette. I love you even more, the both of you. Today."

Sophomore album by Marietta, La Passagère, follows Basement Dreams Are The Bedroom Cream (BORNBAD 074CD/LP, 2015), which was lauded by French daily newspaper Liberation, magazines Les Inrockuptibles, Magic, New Noise, and online magazine Noisey. After touring with his band for two years and playing well-received concerts at Villette Sonique, Rock en Seine, Levitation Festival, Musiques Volantes, Bars en Trans, laureate of leading French development prize Fair 2017 Guillaume, Marietta has come back with nine songs written in French for the first time. The album was recorded in Los Angeles by Chris Cohen, singer-songwriter and producer extraordinaire, with two albums signed on Captured Tracks and past member of Deerhoof and The Curtains. Mixed by Kenneth Gilmore, permanent member of Ariel Pink Haunted Graffiti, who counts in his mixing catalogue Front Row Seat To Earth by Weyes Blood (2016) and My Dreams Dictate My Reality by SOKO (BEC 5161988/5161989, 2015). A carnal, sensual, hallucinating, and melancholic record, fed by representations of the woman, the modern city, self-abandon, paranoia, and redemption. La Passagère is inhabited by the ghosts of Syd Barret and Lou Reed, and nods to contemporary productions by Kurt Vile, Cate Le Bon, Tim Presley, Kevin Morby, and of course Chris Cohen.

$12.50 IN STOCK

"The passenger has set up camp inside your body, and you can't remember if it happened yesterday or if she's always been there. Her crimson hair irradiates your blood as chants and laughs spill from the bedroom. The vessel shudders then arches as the loving parasite bites the back of your neck. In the mirror, bright red gum, milky teeth. The face that suddenly eyes you has painted the town over and poisoned the source. The orchestra of persisting ghosts wanted to record a Bob Dylan album that would sound like Iggy Pop The Idiot. All the while, you were delirious in a smoke-filled aquarium in a car with its windows sealed. Then, the wreck abandoned in a ditch, we took the sea towards California. On the bridge, the virus of the passenger gives her flesh to your starry silhouette. I love you even more, the both of you. Today."

Sophomore album by Marietta, La Passagère, follows Basement Dreams Are The Bedroom Cream (BORNBAD 074CD/LP, 2015), which was lauded by French daily newspaper Liberation, magazines Les Inrockuptibles, Magic, New Noise, and online magazine Noisey. After touring with his band for two years and playing well-received concerts at Villette Sonique, Rock en Seine, Levitation Festival, Musiques Volantes, Bars en Trans, laureate of leading French development prize Fair 2017 Guillaume, Marietta has come back with nine songs written in French for the first time. The album was recorded in Los Angeles by Chris Cohen, singer-songwriter and producer extraordinaire, with two albums signed on Captured Tracks and past member of Deerhoof and The Curtains. Mixed by Kenneth Gilmore, permanent member of Ariel Pink Haunted Graffiti, who counts in his mixing catalogue Front Row Seat To Earth by Weyes Blood (2016) and My Dreams Dictate My Reality by SOKO (BEC 5161988/5161989, 2015). A carnal, sensual, hallucinating, and melancholic record, fed by representations of the woman, the modern city, self-abandon, paranoia, and redemption. La Passagère is inhabited by the ghosts of Syd Barret and Lou Reed, and nods to contemporary productions by Kurt Vile, Cate Le Bon, Tim Presley, Kevin Morby, and of course Chris Cohen. CD version includes 12-page poster booklet. LP version includes printed undersleeve.

$14.50 IN STOCK

In 1966, a new pulse spread like wildfire on the sidewalks of Spanish Harlem and local radio waves. Like no music genre ever before, boogaloo brought together African Americans and Latinos. As the ultimate musical syncretism of popular genres in the Barrio, boogaloo is often described as "the first Nuyorican music". A revolutionary hurricane was then blowing on Amerika: in the trail of the Black Panthers and the Young Lords Organization, minorities were gathering in the streets to reclaim their rights from the establishment. Boogaloo was the soundtrack of a social revolution overtaking the country, before it got overshadowed by salsa. Boogaloo's energy seduced young people from different backgrounds, well beyond the borders of the USA, and especially in the Caribbean cradle land. From Fort-de-France to Pointe-à-Pitre, old biguines and mazurkas from West Indian orchestras strong of a bloodline of virtuosos, from father-to-son, became outdated by those modern beats. On Fred Aucagos's "Ti Man'zelle", there's a subtle mix of imports from the mainland, the USA, and the neighboring islands. Musicians dabbled with boogaloo, coming up with rather unorthodox interpretations. This is precisely what gives this compilation its singularity. It incorporates influences from the African continent thanks to the Rico Jazz (an adaptation of "Si Tu Bois Beaucoup" of the Congolese rumba orchestra O.K. Jazz). It rubs elbows with the "Jerk Vidé" of a David Martial before he turned in a doudouiste cliché. With the cheeky humor of the Guyanese Dany Play ("Mais Tu Sais"), the perkiness of Joby Valente ("Disk La Rayé" with Camille Soprann on sax), the listener (re)discovers classics published on two historic Guadeloupean labels: Aux Ondes of producer Raymond Célini, and Disque Debs, whose boss Henri Debs can be heard on "Ou Pas Z'ami En Moins". "Ou Qué Di Moin" from Monsieur X is a Creole funk pamphlet, neither Latin, nor festive, and not strictly boogaloo for that matter. The Nuyorican rhythm is a tiny fraction of what the West Indies orchestras were playing, as they often incorporated biguine and Haitian kopi elements. Assisted by Jean-Baptiste Guillot, Julien Achard spent over three years compiling this best of the Creole boogaloo. Also features: Maurice Alcindor, Gabby Siarras, Les Bois Sirop, Le Ry-Co Jazz, and Les Vickings. CD version comes in a digipak with a 16-page booklet with liner notes in English and French.