Classic of the month. Chaba Fadela is the premier Algerian actress and all around Diva. She’s married to Cheb Sahraoui with whom she recorded N’Sel Fik (You Are Mine) in 1983. The track became an international cult hit and sparked a worldwide interest in raï music.
Many Turkish people will instantly recognize the 1970 song ‘Sevemedim Kara gözlum’ by Türkan Şoray, from the movie “Kara Gözlum” which she herself starred in. But fewer know about the disco version made a decade later, by the otherwise popular singer Şehrazat. Besides being highly enjoyable, this version also has the distinction of being the first Maxi-single released in Turkey (in 1980). This was a period of great unrest in the country, with the music industry being put almost to a halt the following years. But you wouldn’t guess that from listening to this song.
Ricchi e Poveri isn’t exactly the Italian outfit that gives true disco freaks the merriest associations, but a more thorough look into their catalogue will reveal some very nice surprises. Like this one:
Psychedelic-disco tune from 1976, according to Discogs. My copy has no year stated though, but in any case there is also a later, more electronic version of this song on a Riza Silahi Poda solo album. But this one is for me the kicker.
An uncredited cover version from a Hong Kong album of kung fu film themes. This one has an almost totally same sounding intro fanfare and string section than the rest of the covers but after that the track takes an offbeat turn. Also, the requisite screams are extra fierce.
A Dan Records/Harvest/Bourbon realese. No year of release printed on the sticker.
The clerk was able to speak a few words of English and translated the title as “hero” – or something like that. This is all I know of this spaghetti westernish record with credits in Japanese only. Anyone know more?
After the legendary It’s Alrite To Fuck All Nite the now respected poetess delivered a second dose of disco delirium, devoted to penises:
I am better than a machine
I am better than a machine
You can give your clothes to the laundry
You can give your head to your coke
You can give your love to your mother and baby that ain’t no joke
You can give your heart to your music
and if you ain’t too blind to see
That you sure know how to use it
So give your dick to me!”
Recorded from a cult fave soundtrack (Australia, 1975). I’ve no idea what the film looks like. Most likely it has something to dada with football. Long term exposure to this ethereal masterpiece evokes slightly provocative images shot by that Bourdin Guy. My reel stops constantly at the girl into blue. This kind of soundscape is best enjoyed in the early morning hours when content is not the most defining factor in conversation. After countless hours of talk everything you hear and say becomes equally interesting and it’s even perfectly acceptable to drop a line from T.S. Eliot without sounding pretentious.
“At the still point of the turning world.
Neither flesh nor fleshless;
Neither from nor towards;
At the still point, there the dance is,
But neither arrest nor movement.
And do not call it fixity,
Where past and future are gathered.
Neither movement from nor towards,
Neither ascent nor decline.
Except for the point, the still point,
There would be no dance, and there is only the dance.”
Unfortunately all mornings come to an end and you must allow yourself to sleep before the next morning.
Recent studies in experimental psychology indicate that exposing your aural senses to Biddu’s Nirvana can help you to slow your brain waves to reach the Theta state. Those who have slowed the record about 4% on their turntables have reached the desired state of mind much sooner than those listening at the original speed.