South Africa is one of my musical mothers. I discovered this nearly twenty years ago when I stepped on the continent for the first time and landed near the Indian Ocean in the city of Durban. By the time I pulled up to Durban, I had already spent that entire year listening to a Zulu musician, also from Durban, by the name of Busi Mhlongo. And while her name never really circulated in the States like a Miriam Makeba or a Letta M’bulu, I knew that her voice, her music, and her movement was an invitation to reacquaint myself with the long standing relationship between Black South Africans and Black Americans. So, whether we’re talking about the parallel musical and personal lives of Brenda Fassie and Whitney Houston or the parallel demonization of exiled political warriors Duduzile Ndwashlana and Assata Shakur, I know that South Africa has rhythmic resistance strategies that Black Americans have and should continue to learn from. It’s been four years since I released my last mix, and six years since I released a musical essay from my Afro-Digital Migration series. House Music in Post-Apartheid South Africa. The gap in time is a reflection of the shift in direction my practice has taken since I’ve moved from behind the turntables into the university classroom. DJ Scholarship took me to new places—but South Africa continues to call me home to the decks. In November of 2019 I was indoctrinated into the sound movement known as Amapiano, a sub-genre of deep house that nods its head to the tempo of Kwaito and uses the organ as a primary time machine for Diasporic travel. Imagine if the global Black church had an 808 drum near the choir stand. Amapiano is closely related to what I call Blues Ministry, that genre of music that samples and creates an interdependent relationship between the sacred and the profane. Spiritually fucked by the bass. I produced this mix while also thinking about global Blackness and how it informs how we listen to music and what we listen for. DJs were the first people to introduce me to music of the Black Atlantic. Sade’s residency on Quiet Storm Black American radio and Hugh Masekela’s imprint on Sunday jazz radio taught me about a transnational conversation that through music has remained in place representing a divine interconnectedness. To me, DJ Scholarship holds the intimacies that unfold within the worlds of the Black diaspora and the mix brings together multi-vocalities that speak to this unfolding. Opening with the spokesperson for the Movement for Democratic Change Alliance party, Fadzayi Mahere addresses rising tensions in Zimbabwe after being arrested while protesting the government’s response to COVID and decades of struggles informed by the after lives of colonialism. It includes Nina Simone talking about her beloved chosen countries Liberia and Switzerland. I sample a call and response moment from the 2002 film Amandla and got blessed with a guest drop by Zama Dube, former radio host from YFM, and one of the most important people I’ve met this year. Zama Dube, again from Durban, was my thinking partner for this music. In this sense the mixed tape symbolizes what Louis Chude Sokei would call a "Diasporic echo chamber" that came together as we hit corners in the Crenshaw district blasting township funk. The final voice is the masterful Dick Gregory from the 1972 Nation Time convention which took place in Gary, Indiana. I was invited by filmmaker and cultural critic dream hampton to produce a mix in response to the August 28, 2020 Black National Convention inspired by Nation Time. The Black Convention "recognizes a shared struggle with all oppressed peoples—and that collective liberation will be a product of all of our work. It is our hope that by building in solidarity and working together to create and amplify a shared agenda, we can continue to move toward a world in which the full humanity and dignity of all people is recognized.” It made sense for me to consid(continued)

I woke up in Paris this morning reflective and excited about how I found my way here. I’m in Paris because I’m a DJ and because I fell in love with house music enough to ask questions about its roots. In that asking I studied liner notes, read books, watched documentaries, and travelled globally to learn of house in the African Diaspora. I made my way across dance floors to get a sense of the network of underground club culture that’s existed in the name of house for multiple decades. My work as a DJ led to the development of research skills and I’ve applied those skills to unearthing the stories of hidden black artists and communities—from the areas of dance, film, literature, and music. If we don’t, who will? I’m here in Paris to shift the way people engage and understand the role of a DJ. I’m here to share the sonic stories of people buried beneath the shallow histories that place less value on the cultural contributions of women and gay folks from Black and Brown America. James Baldwin is included in my life work and I was here in Paris to present a paper titled “Don’t Let me be Misunderstood: The Personal Relationship Between James Baldwin, Nina Simone and Lorraine Hansberry,” as part of a conference titled, “A Language to Dwell: James Baldwin, Paris and International Visions,” at the American University of Paris. Today I walked into “Café De Flore” the venue where Baldwin made final edits on his first book, "Go Tell it on the Mountain." I’ve been feeling his energy all up and through these streets. When I walked in the café and read the menu, I searched with pride for Baldwin’s name, somewhere between Truman Capote’s and Tennessee Williams’, especially because this was a café that boasts about its connection to the greatest of literary giants. Baba Baldwin’s name was nowhere to be found and for a second I felt deflated--betrayed even. Then I thought, France you fancy, but you don’t fool me. Just when I’m taken by the architecture, cheese and fine wine, I get pulled back into a particular kind of remembering. You have an empire and the legacies of French Nobility to protect, which may explain why Baldwin’s house in the South of France is scheduled to be demolished soon. That said, in the spirit of Buggin Out from “Do the Right Thing,” I walked out of the establishment like “Yo Sal, how come you don’t got no brothers [black people] up on the wall?” But let’s build our own walls, create our own spaces to honor the geniuses that are not exceptions to a rule, but in fact representative of the brilliant communities they were shaped by. James Baldwin, we call your name even when the places where traces of you can be found choose not to and we recognize you as one of the ancestors of house music, the children who walk on beat in spirit alongside you… In 2012, I released my first double mix titled “The Children of Baldwin,” a musical essay about the history and possible future of house. At the core of house music is joy, a rhythmic theory of escape, accentuated by what could be called fatal pleasure—the war on drugs and addiction, coupled with a dangerous freedom marked by a lurking “big disease with a little name.” I’m grateful for the many unnamed house producers, DJs, dancers and promoters whose voices we will never hear because in addition to many of them passing too soon, I’m not sure enough of us care to ask why house music speaks directly to the needs of Black and Brown queer bodies. My curiosity feels like a form of respect, a living altar I can create every time I share house music on a dance floor, in the academy, in my community and here on this platform. Please accept this offering as a sequel to the “Children of Baldwin” cause we still out here building on the legacy and cramming to understand the answers to unasked questions before we leave this planet…for a new one. Most of the songs from this mix are early classic house songs. I’ve included a few newer tracks that feel aligned wit(continued)

In 1985 Loose Ends performed on Soul Train and just like all other performers who graced the stage, Don Cornelius strolled up with a mic and a series of music journalistic questions. When guitarist Carl McIntosh opened his mouth to discuss how the band met, I experienced my first ever encounter with Black Britain. With a precious amount of naiveté my nine-year old mind asked, “So Black people exist outside of America and outside of Africa?” As far as I knew we were between those two places and those two places only. Prior to discovering their British voices my family had Loose Ends “Hanging on a String (Contemplating)” on repeat. It was a new soul classic, #1 on the US R&B charts, and I couldn't get enough. After their Soul Train appearance, I went through my sister's tapes to conduct a proper review of their discography, which at the time consisted of two albums (1984’s A Little Spice and 1985’s So Where are You?). I did everything I could to find out what their experiences were with love, joy, soul and pain. I read liner notes in search of clues and discovered that a few members of the band were responsible for arranging and producing material for the group Five Star, who I had no idea was Black and British as well. Amused by my obsession, my mom said with little fanfare, 'yeah, Sade is from over there too.' What? Now you playing! Pretty ass, heartbroken ass, emotionally brilliant ass Sade is Black British too? I'm sold and possibly down for life. And now that I think about it, I’ve been digging in the crates for three decades strong. My digging is what led me to 'Keep on Movin' by Soul II Soul and shortly following that single the group hit us with the monstrous 'Back to Life' track in 1989. They, too, appeared on Soul Train and at the end of the performance I heard the same British accent falling from their lips of African descent. By this time my questions were more refined. How did the Black British community come to be formed? What is their parent’s history? What do they eat? I knew that most of my family was from Louisiana, Texas and Missouri and landed in Cali by way of migration. Were there places where people travelled from to be in the UK? A hostile home they escaped by the thousands to feel ‘The Warmth of Other Suns?’ Isabel Wilkerson I see you. Grandma and them were part of the 1950s crew who packed cold fried chicken and biscuits for the train from Mississippi heading west to the left coast. Inherent to DJ culture is research and my travels today can be traced back to questions I began to ask in the late eighties. I kept my ear to the streets of Black British music and by the mid-nineties I was knee deep in UK Soul and Acid Jazz. The Brand New Heavies, D'Influence, The Rebirth of Cool series, Massive Attack, and Omar were but a few of the folks who put me on to new parts of myself. See that's the thing, these people were me, but at the same time not, and while the similarities between our music and theirs, our social lives and theirs were in some ways parallel, there was a wealth of information to be found in the distinction of our experiences. That said I committed to learning what makes communities of the African Diaspora unique; that feels like the respectful thing to do. White supremacy teaches us to shun difference, as opposed to use it as a tool to cultivate humanizing curiosity. Checking for the lives of Black folks around the planet matters because it's an extension of self-love and a way to strengthen voices of resistance. In 1998, I left the country for the first time to travel to Brixton and Bristol. This was my first experience with a Black global community and it was electronic music that pulled me in. When in grad school, I learned of an opportunity to attend a summer program at the University of Liverpool to study the influence of Black American Blues on the Beatles sound. I jumped on it and from there took my ass to a San Francisco post office to gets, and I do (continued)

A mix celebrating the last year in my 30s, please accept the answers to the deepest of questions. Track List: Nobody Else But You But You Dance Be Enough (feat. Shea Soul) Opolopo I Want U (Yoruba Soul Mix) Set Me Free (Native Roots Remix) Mr Funk Daddy, DJ Sue Into Your Story (Kai Alce Remix) Sandman, Riverside, Jeremy Ellis, Ayro I Cling (Yoruba Soul Mix) Deetron & Ovasoul7 My Desire (Jullian Gomes Remix) Copyright, Donae'o Walk A Mile (Ultra Tone Remix) Cuebur feat. Nathan X Hero (Hang Session Candi Mix) Vincemo Ft MOT Good Inside (Cuebur Remix) Ckenz Voucal Jonny Dionne Osunlade Go Downtown (Mr. V Mix) Mr. V

Sun Ra would have been 100 years old today and I'm in London preparing to present the soundtrack of my own brand of AfroFuturism. Please enjoy the second and final installment of the "Hibernation Series." Detroit's winter cracked my creative spirit wide open. This mix features the electronic music from Africa and space themed Black American jazz. Fix your mind for this. Satellites Are Spinning Sun Ra Space Is The Place Amapheyile Amampondo Fa Laay Fanaan (Ashley Beedle on Marz Mix) Segunguwo Robert Machiri “Take Me Out of It” Toni Morrison Madan Salif Keita Ancestry Boddhi Satva Ubatuba (BSC AfroTech Mix) Brazilian Soul Crew “Blackness” Nina Simone Moon Dance Keith Worthy Distant Planet Mr. Fingers/Robert Owens Outer Spaceways Incorporated Sun Ra Space Is The Place

I wrote this during layovers between Toronto and London, on my way to Amsterdam for the summer. Before I start my next voyage, I wanted to offer my musical reflections on South Africa. Three days ago (April 27, 2014), South Africa's democracy turned 20 years old. I spent much of December and January in South Africa, thanks to the support of my community of listeners, family and friends and a generous grant from The Astraea Foundation Global Arts Fund. This was my third time in South Africa; the first trip happened in 2001 and the second in 2011. The purpose of the trip was to complete the SoundTracking Our Lives Tour, a project that simulated the migration pattern of house music from the U.S. to South Africa, launching in New York, traveling to Chicago and Detroit, and finally, concluding in Johannesburg. The purpose of the tour was to document the work of women who have played a role in the evolution of house and its transmigration, and are currently active in its development. My mission was accomplished. But what I realized almost instantly was since my last trip to South Africa I have developed a new vocabulary, a new understanding of the development of house music. I have been deepening my relationship with its influences, everything from traditional African drumming, to Philly soul, to the tambourines and choral clap rhythms of gospel. Clark Sisters, stand up. A few days before my landing in Jo'burg, Nelson Mandela made his physical transition. Accordingly, the energy on the streets reflected not only the sadness of his passing, but also the presence of many questions, particularly the politically and socially charged question of ‘progress’ since democracy. One thing that was extremely clear to me was the intricate ways that the apartheid regime institutionalized longstanding practices that until this day uphold the brutal inequalities that exists between Black and White South Africans and shamelessly so. Adrienne Maree Brown, my lover and trip companion, writes about the experience in more subtle detail here: http://adriennemareebrown.net/blog/2014/02/14/reflections-on-south-africa-part-2/ Still, even with the uncertainty that Mandela’s death brings, house music continues to dominant the sound of the nation. But there was a difference this time, between the house music I heard on the radio and the house music I heard on my taxi rides through the city, or in the cars passing me by on the streets. I had to admit that much of the house I heard on the radio was formulaic (a hard distinction to make with a genre of music based on repetition), and had blown up to “pop” status, losing some of its dark funk. As an outsider I can never really be sure about the politics of commercial vs. underground culture, the music industry, globally, is such a tricky beast. But I do know for sure that I felt less moved by what was most popular, most available. This is why it’s always good, as a global citizen, to seek out the underground community wherever you land. Find those cats you would roll with in your circle at home. The cats who avoid radio as much as possible and keep their ears to the street in search of that very specific sound; you simply know it when you hear it and it can be heard in so many different forms of music, in so many different places on the planet, all we know is that it’s a sound that unites us all. By the end of the trip I had collected around 100 songs from record labels (Soul Candi), DJs, producers and general house heads. Turns out that the majority of the music I was given did little in the way of touching that little thing inside of me that inspires movement and sets the stage for the perfect mix. I narrowed down my compilation to 17 songs and some of them were tunes I had been listening to for the past year leading up to my trip. Upon returning from South Africa, I spent the winter in Detroit with my honey and during that time I set up my turntables, along with my art. I rooted mys(continued)

“Your heart has to be ready to handle the weight of your calling,” is what she said casually over Korean BBQ, and for this reason and more I grew up reading bell hooks. ‘Sisters of the Yam: Black Women and Self-Recovery’ was my first dance with her mind. In it she taught me how to identify the ways that patriarchy, white supremacy and global capitalism threatened humanity’s well-being. More specifically, she challenged me to examine the ways in which our own families replicate models of oppression, sometimes trumping the need, or the awareness of the need, for self-care. bell hooks called on me to think critically as a strategy to heal from social and emotional trauma, a task that would require a lifetime of unlearning. When commissioned by Dr. Melynda Price, Chair of the African American and Africana Program at the Univ. of Kentucky to make this mix, I was struck by the fact that not a single song came to mind, which is unusual for my process. Typically I have an idea of the direction of the mix, with at least one song to start. But bell hooks has written over 30 books. What could I say musically that would affirm, celebrate and soundtrack her commitment to education, activism, radical openness and feminist scholarship? What music could match ‘the life of her mind?’ The moment I asked that question, Nina Simone appeared. I had a start. I continued to dig deep into the crates of bell hooks’ life in search of clues about music she loved. On one of those days, after a few hours of probing, she mentioned Tracy Chapman in a lecture. My second artist arrived. From there, I recognized that women’s voices would occupy a large amount of space on the mix. And how easy it would be to create a mix using only women to pay tribute to a world-renowned feminist thinker, right? No, this would not be true to the range of music I have access to, or the core of her ideas. bell warns us to not confuse patriarchy with masculinity. Teaching us that patriarchal dominance can only be destroyed when all of us adopt feminist politics. That said, I invited men to be a part of the honoring, particularly men I feel loved by. Would bell love Bilal? In the song ‘Robots,’ he critiques hyper consumerism similarly to the way she critiques the commodification of Black culture in her work. And Lionel Hampton is from Kentucky, did she grow up listening to the sound of his vibraphone? And consistently she’s made the important distinction between misogynistic and ‘conscious’ rap, would she dig Mos Def? And could Gregory Porter, speak to her encounter with desegregation in the classrooms of the Black south? In this moment I decided to put together a compilation of music that would communicate the essence of her message, or at least, my understanding of it. It would be a mix in dialogue form. I’ve learned so much from bell’s refusal to adhere to restrictions about what she could and could not write about, and what topics she could and could not explore. When she shifted her focus from critical gender theory with books like Ain’t I Woman: Black Women and Feminism and Yearning: Race, Gender and Cultural Politics to a series of books focused solely on love (Salvation, Communion and All About Love), I knew she was making the decision to become more accessible to communities, beyond the academy. I knew she wanted to have more nuanced conversations about the revolutionary qualities of love and through this series, I was reminded that love was located at the center of the pursuit of social justice. For this reason, I felt jazz had a place among the songs. Betty Carter’s ‘Open the Door’ and Freddie Hubbard’s ‘Red Clay’ has so much emotional and cultural wealth, and jazz itself provided the soundscape for many social movements and plenty of freedom fighters, Malcolm X included. I discovered the Uptown String Quartet in my college years while working in a record store. I was excited by the fact that they were four classically trained Black women music(continued)

I started compiling music for “Dark Black Girls” in Atlanta, early 2012. I wasn’t quite sure of what direction the music would head in after deciding on the first song, “When I Grow Up” by Fever Ray, a song introduced to me by the hyper-talented Faatimah Stevens, who created the visuals for the sound. In the end I learned that each song was a different iteration of reggae music, more specifically, the one drop. The mix was completed in May 2012, days before I moved to Montreal, Quebec for a stint. I decided that I would release it during a different season because I felt like the sun’s constant presence would betray my intentions for this sound. The “Dark” in the title of the mix is less about skin complexion and more about complexity. The darkness that I hear in this music speaks to that rich place in which we develop our most sacred ideas and private joy. I wanted this to be music for the highly reflective. Winter music. Hibernation and the promise of spring possibility music. Music that honored the collective of peculiar and queer folks who circle me. Tastemakers ignored even within the village. A mix inspired by conversations I’ve had with brand new familiar people. So, in the spirit of sensual excellence and erotic intelligence, I offer you ‘Dark Black Girls,’ a celebration of the investigation of purpose and existence. Listen closely, there’s a beautiful danger in each track. With radical curiosity, follow me now seen? Seen. Faatimah Stevens: Artist Statement Navigating through many genres of music is like tasting new succulent cuisine. Finding the latest in international sounds coincide with trying flavors so fresh you transport there, near the epicenter of it all. Even though surrounded by the traditional waves, my sound cloud is quite foreign in origin. Exploring elements from Sweden, specifically Fever Ray (i.e., Little Dragon), has kept my plate hungry for more. Songs like "When I Grow Up" adhere to a familiar quality yet the vocals capture a new frontier. Haunting, personal, captivating. There lies a dash of each within this mixtape. For the cover, Grace Jones was my muse. Up close and personal, her beauty is in your face. Another voice on the mixtape, Grace fulfills the essence of a Dark Black Girl. Daring, bold, red. My creative style is a linear quality that contours features, bodies, even landscapes. The face of Grace is heightened, converged into layers of playful lines, each forming the dark beauty that resonates within her. Track list: When I Grow Up Fever Ray Get Free Major Lazer Feat. Amber Coffman A New Little Dragon Heirloom Bjork Here Comes The Rain Again (Featuring Sly And Robbie) Starstruck Santogold 700 Mile Situation Res Nightclubbing Grace Jones Launderette Vivien Goldman Why Carly Simon

The Love Space Demands, is a choreopoem published in 1991, by Ntozake Shange. In it she returned to the blend of music, dance, poetry and drama that characterized For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide....Her work has been described as sexy, discomforting, energizing, revealing, occasionally smug, and fascinating.” This is true. Ntozake Shange forces the kind of reflection that creates discomfort...growth. The first time I heard the words "The Love Space Demands" I paused and dropped everything. That's it. The space, the time, the clarity, the beauty and the pain that holds the hand of growing. The process of creating a mix is an arduous one. I spend at least 3-6 months listening to each song repeatedly until I figure out the arrangement--the bigger picture. Driven by some of the hardest lessons learned by the heart, my house music rendition of Shange's choreopoem "The Love Space Demands" asks listeners to consider the inspiring and transformative range of emotions that one can feel when riding through that journey called love. And then there's the letting go and doing it all over again. And i'll do it again. Every time. Heartbreak is an opportunity. Each song tells a story of contradiction, understanding, betrayal, yearning, unconditional love, tenderness and surrender. Last night, around the same time I completed this mix, my best friend, Mr. Asadullah Saed created a new life with this poem. Divine Timing. I read his words and realized they were the liner notes for this mix. Enjoy. Press play, tune in. See track list at the end of the poem... The Feeling After (poem) I am fighting to be grateful no thank you grateful I'm trying to see you love me again still but again different maybe a friendly love an old love my love again thanks for everything kiss your hand for me because I can't may never will again getting out of bed slower than sleepy loved you to pieces maybe one day you can read this and laugh maybe one day we will laugh together even in rain even in hard times may there be few ancestors want us to be better than okay ashe I want us to be better than we waz better than we loved ourselves dancing in circles surviving doing our best at that particular time my dear darling. A. Muhammad 1. Love Cannot Eric Ericksson 2. Invitation to Dance (Vincemo Hang Sessions Mix) 3. Green & Yellow (Original)Arnaud D feat. Heidi Vogel 4. Linda (Da Capo's Touch) Ralf GUM feat. Oluhle 5. Move It (Original Mix) [feat. Mindgames] Dj Whisky 6. World Is Good [feat. Rona Ray] Chymamusique & DJ Claude 7. Alone (Zakes Bantwini Mix) Liquideep 8. Still (V Underground Mid-Day Mix) Monocles & Slezz ft Vusani 9. You Dont Deserve Me (Rosarios Touch Mix)Reel Skaps ft Man DO 10. Made Me A Fool (Abicah Soul Remix) Gino Brown feat. January 11. Violet Remix Pack - Chapter 1 (Hallex M & Loic L Remix) Oscar P & Marcus Pearson 12. Day By Day (Day By Day (Spigelsound Mix) Research 13. God's Message Marlon D pres. Ultra Nate 14. Heart Beat Zaki Ibrahim 15. Nozomi Yusuke Hiraoka

"The School of Badu" is a mix (compilation) inspired by one of the sexiest encounters I've had to date. Amazing what a deep soul connection with another human being can do to and for an artist. The heart is a beast. Take a ride through some of my favorite live performances and studio songs that, in my opinion, exemplify Erykah's work as the multi-dimensional, soul stirring and body moving performer that she is. Listen carefully, then pass it along. Dallas, stand up. embrace....

I moved to Atlanta from Brooklyn in March 2011 as a part of a Great (Re) verse Migration. Since being here I've been inspired by the calm of the breeze, the soul of the people and the movement on the dance floor. In circles we dance to house music, fed by rhythms that translate ancestral languages. Bass. With this mix I want to give back to ATL the love I've received, the creativity that's swinging from the history of these trees...and this dirt. Red Clay. My ancestors, my future. Take a musical journey with me as I mix some of my favorite songs from the past 3 months, some of it South African and all of it soulful and deep. I write you now from an airplane on my way to Aruba to teach babies what it is to be rooted in Music and versed in Technology. Arts Rules Aruba 2012. From the people who bring you The Chitlin Circuit: Deep House in the Deep South, we now offer to the space Southern Cosmology: Love Letter to Atlanta. Now Dance. dj lynnee denise

The moment I finished this mix, I put my headphones on and danced...to the entire thing. South Africa moves me. There cannot be a separation between the music, the history and the people. Layers. With the support of a Jerome Foundation Travel and Study grant, I paid a visit to South Africa, determined to understand The Afro Digital Migration: House Music in Post Apartheid South Africa. I wanted to explore how house music took root in South Africa and shaped its national identity. The impetus for this research was my belief that electronic music in the African Diaspora is an under-explored cultural product. As a DJ, I was driven by the clean production and seamless mixes I heard; as a dancer, I wanted to witness the intricate body movement inspired by house; and as a scholar, I wanted to figure out how, in the face of state-sanctioned surveillance and harassment, the music flourished. Special thanks and love to Clive Bean (Soul Candi) and Thokazani Mhlambi (Umtshakadulo) for answering my questions and arranging gigs for me to have a platform to express my Black American house experience and pay respect to the South African sound on the decks. This mix is dedicated to Winnie Mandela, Busi Mhlongo and Miriam Makeba, three women who looked white supremacy and patriarchy in the eye and danced. Power is always subjective, never absolute. All Freedom Fighters come through the bodies of women. Every single song selected was created by a South African producer/DJ. I've also featured the remixes of some of my favorite producers from the US (Spinna, Abicah Soul and Rocco). 1. Eish Anganzi-- Master Lucra (Johannesburg) 2. Soul on Fire --Devoted Featuring Kholi (Johannesburg/Cape Town) 3. We Going High-- Dj Shimza and Cuebar (South Africa) 4. Do U Want it? --Cuebar (Johannesburg) 5. Behind My Headphones-- DJ Micks feat-Sphelele (Eltonnick Remix) (Pretoria) 6. We Were Meant to Be ---"DJ Kent featuring Lolo (Abicah Soul Remix) Johannesburg 7. 1000 Zulu Warriors --Culoe de Song (Johannesburg) 8. XILOLOWE (bhana shilolo)-- Black Motion featuring Zulu (Soshanguve/Pretoria) 9. Wasting My Time-- Zakes Bantwini (Durban) 10. Falling Dj Kent --(Black Motion remix) Johannesburg 11. So Far Away --Cuebar and Nathan X (Johannesburg) 12. Never Saw You Coming-- Black Coffee (Dj Spinna remix) (Durban) 13. Drifting Away-- Bantu Soul (South Africa) 14. Sunshine-- Infinite Boys feat Lil Soul (Abicah Remix) (Daveyton) WildSeed Cultural Group provides "Entertainment with a Thesis" lynnee denise

The second scholar provides Haiku poetry inspired by Episode 2 "Mighty Real: The Sound of Tomorrow. This is none other than the author, poet, activist, lover, freedom fighter, professor, emcee, freestyler, vocalist, edutainer, tease, father, big brother, publisher, friend, papa bear, curator, scholar, raptivist, public intellectual, spiritualist, house-head: Mr. Tim’m West. Jimmy B-boy blues wide-eyed and full like his laugh surrender to joy We close our eyes inheriting the praise dance of sinner sermons Sweet serenity baby powder voudou dust Eden where we dance

WildSeed Music NYC is proud to present its first ever double mixed cd, High Holy Days: The History and Future of House Music. Episode 1 ”“The Children of Baldwin,” explores several periods of classic house where I mix both Chicago and New York City underground gay club hits to highlight the infant stages of house music. This compilation focuses on the music of two popular clubs credited with initiating the globalization of house music: Dj Larry Levan’s Paradise Garage Club in New York City and DJ Ron Hardy’s Music Box in Chicago. Many dancers, djs and listeners from the early house music community have succumbed to HIV/AIDS. When mixing this compilation, I made a conscious decision to honor the people who built the temples where “the children” dance, but did not have a chance to tell there stories. Both Ron Hardy and Larry Levan died in 1992 from complications related to intense drug use, although Ron Hardy’s death was also HIV/Aids related. One critical point that I’ve discussed in my project is the impact of addiction and the HIV/Aids epidemic on house music culture. Through this mix I hoped to have brought voice to the untold stories and visibility to the people that generated a global musical movement. This podcast premiered during the Atlanta Black Pride, one of three of the largest festivals in the country, in 2011. My aim for this release was to offer more than a party to celebrate our lives, but to lift the names of those who have passed on and to recognize what LGBTQ contribute to American culture. Episode 2, “Mighty Real: The Sound of Tomorrow” pulls on current producers who incorporate elements of classic house, but also push beyond the borders of acceptable dance-floor grooves. Sylvester helped shape a soulful, yet formulaic genre of house music that focuses on spiritual-sexually-inspired falsetto vocals and driving, repetitive disco rhythms. This mix is dedicated to his artistry, fearlessness and commitment to authenticity. Liner notes for High Holy Days feature two of my favorite scholars and house heads: The first is Thokazani Mhblambi, A South African ill-disciplined musicologist; shifting between diverse creative genres, from classical music to sound art and display. I will interview Thokazani in South Africa to discuss electronic music (Kwaito and House) in the Post Apartheid era. The following excerpt was pulled from his article “Freedom in the Age of Democracy” and best describes the sentiment behind “The Children of Baldwin” mix. “Music’s fluidity, its ability to exist in-context and in many other contexts simultaneously, can provide a stimulus towards the direction of freedom. But for house music to do this, it needs to be rescued from the context of excess and accumulation and loaded with transformative content of liberation. It needs to be freed from the ghettoes of global cultures of consumerism, which seek to marginalize the contributions of the church, gospel music, African spirituals, gay-club culture all of which have been foundational to its origins.” Read the article in its entirety here. http://www.archivalplatform.org/blog/entry/freedom_in_the/ The second scholar provides Haiku poetry inspired by Episode 2. This is none other than the author, poet, activist, lover, freedom fighter, professor, emcee, freestyler, vocalist, edutainer, tease, father, big brother, publisher, friend, papa bear, curator, scholar, raptivist, public intellectual, spiritualist, house-head: Mr. Tim’m West. Jimmy B-boy blues wide-eyed and full like his laugh surrender to joy We close our eyes inheriting the praise dance of sinner sermons Sweet serenity baby powder voudou dust Eden where we dance

Liner notes for this mix are brought to you by my brother and friend Asadullah Saed Muhammad. His words speak truth to heart. Authenticity meets history for a future of honesty and peace. I want to love Love you like Mother Father god Introduced me to her As soon as I saw you Touch you like Black power Touched me Pick the cotton out your mind And make a cloth of you West africa and detroit Your smile Make your day With your words Write me a poem for me And hand you my art Coloring in chakras I met you today You broke my record. -asadullah saed Intro: Who Wants to get Free--Paris Hatcher 1. "Chicago Theme" Glenn Underground 2. "We can Change this World" DJ Spinna feat Heavy (Yoruba Soul Mix) 3. "Feel Love" (Nortenshun Vocal Mix) Ultra Nate 4. "Nowhere" (I Can Go) Clara Hill Atjazz mix 5. "Papawenda" Fabio Genito 6. "Wathula Nje" Black Coffee 7. "After the Club" Tommy Bones 8. No Way" Osunlade 9. "Here Comes the Sun" Nina Simone (Francois K mix) 10. Fugama Unamathe (Culoe De Song Serenity Mix) 11. "Real World" (MAW w Vikter Duplait) 12. "Put it On" Atjazz feat Ernesto (Osunlade mix) 13. HIya Kaya Kentphonic (Rocco Deep mix) 14. "I Love the Night" Raw Artistic Soul (Rocco and C Robert Walker) 15. "Broken Vibes" Taylor McFarrin

Drum and Bass is Black Music… On the 30th anniversary of the 1981 Brixton riots, a historic reaction to the hostility and xenophobic environment that informed the policing of African and Caribbean immigrants, I examined the ruthless desire to keep Britain White. I pulled from Sam Selvon’s 1956 novel “The Lonely Londoners,” which tells the story of the Caribbean community’s communal response to the English brand of white supremacy and their cultural preservation as a means for survival. Additionally, I sought the political, social, and musicological context of a sound that takes root in Sly and Robbie’s Reggae Music—Drum and Bass. Inspired by these histories, I’ve created a musical essay that epitomizes my long-term relationship with Black Britain and the parallel strategies of resistance that Black Americans have employed to attain basic human rights. Shout out to drum and bass pioneers Roni Size, Goldie, LTJ Bukem, Kemistry and Storm, Krust, and all the other sons and daughters of “The Lonely Londoners.” I'm excited to introduce a new series of liner notes. As a part of the WildSeed Cultural Group Independent Artist in Residency program in Atlanta, Georgia (2011-2012), I will be working with my favorite thinkers, writers, cultural critics and scholars to help contextualize my mixes. The first to launch the series is Esther Armah, a fierce Black British writer, speaker, moderator and leader in the emotional justice movement. Thank you Esther for being willing to participate in this project and for helping to make "Entertainment with a Thesis" a reality. DJ lynnee denise (feel free to repost and pass on) Liner Notes by Esther Armah* We made it. Not bodies. They were battered, bruised, brutalized, buried. The drum beat landed. Intact. Slipped unnoticed between bodies, souls, minds carried from West Africa’s shores via the West Indies. Landed unbent and unbroken in this new land - West London. We were the language left when mother tongue was dragged screaming from its source, we were the unshed tears of the middle passage. Company came. Sought us out. Hands grabbed at us from Empire Wind-rush bodies, carried to this place from Caribbean islands. A new language, new accent from this new nation called England. Black backs bent and shaped by British labor, sweat collected from a generation invited and despised in the same breath. Our mamas and daddies, silent and deadly. That racism DNA pounded and flattened, birthed into frustrated beats and a new generation. Defiance became the breath of those born to these Caribbean bodies mangled seeking refuge from racist rants. This was now Black Britain. Sound changed. Started to gather new notes from new generation. April 1981. Brixton streets, injustice exploded, caught fire, consumed and cleansed. Remnants of those unshed tears from that middle passage put the fire out on the streets, left it burning within Black Britain. Fragments of rage wrapped in that drum, dirt from boots pounding those streets caught between notes. Fragments, pieces, floated, landed. Sound from snatched pieces of leftover 1960s signs that screamed: ‘No Niggers, No Dogs, No Irish’, sound dragged from police officers’ brutal batons before they rained rage on nappy heads, sound from untold injustice - all fashioned into language. Called it bass. The sound from an unwelcome land. The double consciousness in the mirror whose reflection you couldn’t see. Mangled beauty drenched in righteous rage. Drum n bass. 30 years on from Brixton; bodies, boots, batons echo, haunt, haint. Now. Press play. So honored to write these liner notes. Drum n bass are the fragments of us blown across waters and oceans, drum n bass was for the journey where it all got too much, where there was no voice, it is the emotionally unspeakable - the soundtrack of diasporic journeys. Love, love, love this Ms Lynnee... Esther Armah is a Black British award winning international journalist, an author, playwright, radio(continued)