Mother Earth's Plantasia

Jazz Codes is Moor Mother's second and latest album for Anti- and a companion to her celebrated 2021 release Black Encyclopedia of the Air.

Analog Fluids of Sonic Black Holes is a new full-length by Philadelphia based artist, poet, and musician, Camae Ayewa, who performs under the name Moor Mother.

Gilli Smyth first started performing with Soft Machine in the sixties when the band played their mixture of poetry/music gigs. Gilli became more active as a performer following the formation of Gong with her partner Daevid Allen following his departure from the aforementioned Soft Machine in 1968. Following her departure with Allen from Paris following the Paris riots of late 1968 Gilli along with Allen decamped to Spain although the duo once again returned to France in 1969 where the second edition of Gong became a reality. Gilli was the only female in the band originally and developed her "Space Whisper" which became an integral part of the Gong sound.

Mother's Finest tried to smash the embargo blocking black rock acts with this live record. It was the closest any album came to actually conveying the kind of nonstop excitement, spontaneity, and unpredictability of their live shows, although it also showed how vocally erratic they could be in performance. The failure of a band that had as exciting a vocalist as Joyce Kennedy and did both solid rock and fine grinding funk proved one of the '80s' more puzzling questions. It couldn't just be attributed to racism either, because Mother's Finest actually did better among white audiences than black ones.

Shimmering columns of light will guide you, a grand synesthesia riding on a kaleidoscope, oscillating between hushed moments, where sound unfolds the firmament, unfurled like a cloak upon the shoulders of the real world. Listen: this is not a “track”, a circular appendage looped around a spindle and activated by some muscular stone on stylus. Too many people bled for the diamond there, too many questions remain trapped in the groove. What to do then, besides move the listener beyond the traps of expected sonics and into a menagerie, away from the strange hook of the promise of shelf-space or the obsessive atonal drone of, in fact, obsession? Here it is: live on wax, as it were, a breathing, living thing, pulsating on its own, lifting into the ether to announce itself, to nestle into the crevices of your dusty IKEA storage units. Move this mysticism in!