Emerging from the belly of Birmingham, warped-pop duo Strange Ghost release their debut EP, a rolling cloud of synths, dragging beats and zestful melodies that simmers with political heat and contorts itself into changing, billowing shapes.
With their first release for Birmingham collective Minor Artists, the husband-wife team of Christopher and Ayomide Donald make music soaked in the fiery sauce of R&B legends like Jazmine Sullivan and Janelle Monae, and baked in the tape-warping heat of electronic super-producers from Flying Lotus to Portishead.
Disregard for genre conventions is a given on this apocalyptic lava flow of afrobeat, house, punk and pop. Its heart beats with the anarchic arrhythmia of a non-Westminster town, spurning the fashion pages and the bright white lights for a subversive, multicoloured sprawl. There’s water to be found under your feet.
‘Stagger’ is densely catchy, serious and absurd, sweet and dangerous; equally primed for speaker rattling or headphone sessions; the duo’s prismatic, arresting introduction to the world.
- Future Tense
- Black Cloud
- The Hunters
- House of Myrrh
Strange Ghost are the husband-wife duo of Christopher and Ayomide Donald, a psychedelic afropunk band from the south of Birmingham, combining futuristic production with a love of classic R&B and a subversive mythology all their own.
CATALOGUE ( SEE ALL )
This epoch-defining album from Benjamin Blower and the Army of the Broken Hearted comes with liner notes so expansive, they’ve become a book in their own right. 11 blisteringly politicised junk-folk songs from the streets of Birmingham with a 100-page manifesto, written for everyday people stuck in the coma of British cultural life.
A musical cousin to 2008′s ‘The Pillar of Smoke’, the post-folk ‘Exiles’ tells the story of the nation of Israel’s Babylonian exile in the year 586BC
Josiah Gillespie‘s first release on Minor Artists is a cross-section of life, frozen in time; family, friendships and fallouts laid beside one another in all their hopefulness and loss.
This seminal LP in Benjamin Blower‘s back-catalogue still contains enough bile, spit, hope and despair to cut through the smog of Western self-interest now, remaining as true to life as when it was first written.