Unknown Lao Singer | SVL - CD16

Listen to a sample track

Get it all here.

Hey, how y'all doin'? It's been a while, and for that I apologize, but there's a good reason I've been seemingly AWOL: I was out of town for several days on a mission to keep you up to your ears in music you've never heard before.

On Friday, I flew out to Dallas, Texas, where--despite the image one might have of this major southern metropolis--there is a rather vibrant, thriving immigrant population, mostly in the suburban areas. While I didn't exactly go crazy there--I brought home a mere dozen or so CDs--I do have a number of things from Thailand, Vietnam, Nigeria and, above all, Laos, that I'll be sharing with you over the next couple of weeks.

First off is this rather sublime recording I found at Ocean Market in a Laotian neighborhood in northwest Dallas. I know nothing about it, other than how hard it rocks, which you, of course, can hear and judge for yourself.

Stay tuned for more ... 

Gary Sullivan | White Like Me

Three new poems, first posted to the Flarflist, by yours truly, here.

Alton Ellis | Get Ready for Rock Reggae Steady

Listen to "Mad, Mad, Mad"


Listen to "I'm Just a Guy"

Get the whole 20-track collection here.

As I said yesterday, I spent a good portion of my Sunday this week up on White Plains Road in the Bronx, where I plucked a number of fabulous items from a Nigerian drug store and a couple of black music focused record/CD/cassette stores.

Today's selection was found at Millennium Records (4045 White Plains Road), the last place I visited before hopping on the train back home to Astoria. I asked the guy behind the counter, Pablo, who seemed like the owner of the place, how well the store was doing and was happily surprised when he told me that he does a pretty brisk business.

"We have a few white guys who come up here for the records; we sell a lot of those," he told me. "And the current R&B section is very, very popular." The majority of CDs he had for sale were from the Caribbean or the U.S.--at least, so I thought. "Many of these," he said, pointing to an area of what looked like ska and reggae, "are actually from overseas; London."

"And they sell?" I asked.

"Oh, yes," he said, smiling. It was not a long conversation but, I have to say, it was one of the most life-affirming I've had in recent memory. Imagine! A music store that is actually doing brisk business. And providing a real cultural service for the community that surrounds it. I picked up the Alton Ellis he had, as well as another CD that I will likely post in the next week or so.

Alton Ellis, aka "The Godfather of Rocksteady," started his career as a singer in 1959 as one half of the duo Alton and Eddy (the other half being Eddy Perkins). After scoring a couple of hits, Perkins moved to the U.S., leaving Alton in Kingston, where he found work as a printer. When he lost his job, he took up music again in earnest, initially working with others as part of a group or duo.

This retrospective CD (from 1999) begins with Alton's first solo recordings in 1967 and follows his career for another seven or so years--the latest track here is from 1974. If you like it, stick around; I'll be posting a number of things this week and next that I found on White Plains Road yesterday.

Cries for Help

Click here (and not on the image above) to see the full comic I drew for the September issue of The Brooklyn Rail.

Orhan Gencebay | Klasikleri 1966-1993

Get the double album here.

Someone, somewhere--in conversation, an email or in the Bodega's Comments Aisle--recently expressed their thrill of Xtremely mustachioed Orhan Gencebay, whose Layla Ile Mecnun I added to the shelves back in April, here.

This 2-CD set, which I picked up almost a decade ago at a Turkish media store in lower midtown that my poet / translator friend Murat Nemet-Nejat took me to, is a nice introduction to the legendary singer / composer / actor's work.

I tried uploading "Ayşen" for you to listen to, but Divshare seems to be having trouble today (not, apparently, working on Labor Day, ha), so here's a music video of the same song:

The Ultimate Bodega Pop Mix

Jamie at learn to labor and to wait asked if I'd put together a special guest mix for his blog; the result is a 28-song trip around the world via bodegas from Queens to Portland, Oregon. If you're new to Bodega Pop, this would make a great starting point. If you're a regular visitor, I reripped each song at 256 variable rate and included at least a couple of tracks that will be brand-new to you.

Get it (and a full track-list) here.

Mohammad Abdul Muttaleb | Best of 1 & 2

Listen to "Ma Bes Alsh Alayya" from Vol. 1


Listen to "Is 'Al Mujarreb" from Vol. 2

Grab Vol. 1 here and make off with Vol. 2 here.

Yet another find at the Nile Deli (2512 Steinway Street, Astoria); I believe I picked these two up back in April.

I think of the shop keep, who is always behind the counter and who may well be the owner, as The Sphinx--which, yes, I realize is a potentially offensive bit of culturalizing, if we can make that a word. Nevertheless, I do think of him this way as, nothing I ever say or ask him ever seems to register. He's unreadable, and I worry sometimes that my combing through his CD racks for no less than an hour ("Can you see!? They are the same CDs that were there last time you were here!") secretly, profoundly irritates him.

No, of course he's never said anything remotely like the quoted bits in parentheses above. He's never said--to me, at least--anything. Not even the day after Warda's death, when I made a special trip to find albums by the late great Algerian panarabist singer. I remember handing a couple of items to him that day, including the one Warda CD I didn't already own, and noting, to my amazement, that he didn't even seem to register to himself who it was--Warda! and she had just died! OMG!--that he was mechanically stuffing into the black plastic bag with my other, equally unremarkable, purchases.

It isn't, mind you, that he's mean. Nor have I ever picked on up any anger, repulsion, hatred, loathing, hostility, enmity nor even minor annoyance vibes. He is, quite simply, the definition of sphinx-like.

In addition to knowing nothing whatsoever about the Nile Deli's shop keep, I know equally little about Mohammad Abdul Muttaleb, other than that he was an Egyptian singer. I don't even know if he composed his own songs, though I like to imagine so. The fact that I don't know anything about him is a testament not just to my own ignorance--which is as vast and as dry as the Sahara--but to the egregious deficit of 411 in English about expressive culture outside of our own sinking corner of the world.

I do know this, though: on a scale of "no mental or emotional response to stimuli" to "pleasure center overheating and in danger of shutting down," these two volumes are "extremely download worthy."

Thanh Thúy | Một Chuyến Bay Dêm

Listen to "Tam The Bai" (and wait for the guitar solo)

Get it all here.

Here's the third album I have by the supremely fabulous Saigon diva Thanh Thúy. The other two are here and here. Obviously, my number one life goal for the immediate future is to find the other two volumes in this series.

When I do? You'll be the first to know.

Thanh Thúy | Buồn Trong Kỷ Niệm

Listen to "Tau Dem Nam Cu"

Listen to "Hinh Bong Cu"

Get it all here.

This is Holy Fucking Shit-level pop, the kind of music you'll take one listen to and wonder who the evil motherfuckers are who have kept you from experiencing it for so long.

Everything I know about Thanh Thúy, along with an earlier recording (with some fabulous guitar work) is in this post. I'll be upping a third recording tomorrow, so stay tuned.

Thanh Thúy | 24 Giờ Phép

Listen to "Mua Nua Dem"

Listen to "Ga Chieu"

Get the whole thing here.

While combing my shelves for something interesting to share with y'all last night I came across three CDs I've somehow not yet posted by the utterly sublime Saigon chanteuse Thanh Thúy. Featuring recordings from before 1975, the Nhac Vang Thuc Hien Truoc 1975 series provides thousands of Vietnamese immigrants with hours of nostalgic memories--and the rest of us with a window onto a now-long-lost world. 

Born Nguyễn Thị Thanh Thúy in 1943 in Huế, Vietnam, Thanh Thúy began her singing career in 1959 at the age of 16. The next year her mother died and she took responsibility over her younger sisters while simultaneously becoming a national superstar--she was voted the most popular singer in south Vietnam for three consecutive years in the early 60s.

And, of course, we know what happened in 1975. I have no idea where Thanh Thúy wound up or if she is still singing.

This gem was recommended to me by a woman whose family owns a fairly large Vietnamese media store right on the northern edge of Montreal's Chinatown. While there for a work-related conference several years ago I made a point, each day after the conference events had ended, of walking through Chinatown and stopping in to this place, where each time the same woman greeted me, making suggestions, including this CD. If I remember right, she said Thanh Thúy's voice was smoky and bluesy, and that I would most certainly like it.

As, most certainly, will you.

If you do like it, let me know, and I'll probably post the the other two I have by her.