Charif Megarbane
Marzipan

Barbatuques, a well-known Brazilian group of body percussionists, adapted "Baianá" back in 2005 (first released on the "O Seguinte É Esse" album) and since then it became a staple of their concertsThe original is a modern folk song from Bahia composed by Maria do Carmo Barbosa, but it was the mouth harp sound and the stomping beat on the Barbatuques' arrangement that imprinted its trademark sound. A couple of years ago, Jan Schulte, the german producer known for his taste for tropical drums (and also for using a few different aliases), heard the song and decided to add an extra punch to it for his DJ sets: more drums, taken from a library record of "drumdrops" (hence the title).Now for the first time "Baianá" is issued on vinyl. It marks the second volume of the Brasingles eries, a new series on Selva Discos dedicated to releasing loud 12" singles with the original song on the A side and a rework on the B side, to please both the DJ and the listener.

Teranga Beat returns to its roots in West Africa and more precisely to Gambia, to present Galgi, the second album of Bai Janha’s groovy steamroller Karantamba on the label. The first album of Karantamba - Ndigal was a crucial one for the label as it was its third release, marking its identity: exploring cultural hybrids where traditional music is still present, in that specific region of West Africa in the beginning and later on to other parts of the continent and the Mediterranean.Galgi was recorded 4 years after Ndigal in 1988 in Studio Wings in Dakar on reel tapes. An Afro-Mading jewel that remained unreleased until today and as an original ‘80s recording, guitars and synthesisers are thriving together with a killer groove throughout the entire album. The difference between Galgi and the previous recordings of Karantamba is not only the ’80s sound but also the female vocals of Ndey Nyang!Galgi means “Slave ship” in Wolof, a track dedicated to the people who suffered during the Atlantic slave trade, and this is why the photo of the cover was shot in the emblematic House of Slaves in the Gorée island in Dakar. The song remains contemporary, as many people today take the risk of sailing through the maelstrom of the Atlantic Ocean towards unknown shores—a journey reminiscent of the historical immigration from the West Coast of Africa, where slave ships once set sail. This time though, it reflects an effort to escape the realities imposed on Africa by former colonisers since the continent gained independence.