Rolando Alarcón – Canciones de la Resistencia y de la Guerra Civil Española

La Nueva Canción Chilena (New Chilean Song) is the musical voice of a social/political movement that lived in Chile in the 1960s and early 70s. The movement championed labor organization, land reform, anti-racism, and anti-imperialism. It supported the North Vietnamese in their struggle against the U.S.

Pinochet and the Fascist military junta seized power in Chile on Sept. 11, 1973. The New Chilean Song movement (along with most leftist political and social organizations) was destroyed, and its leaders murdered. The CIA and other U.S. agencies were heavily involved in installing Pinochet and keeping him in power. His thugs learned torture techniques at the U.S.-sponsored School of Americas.

Rolando Alarcón was a Chilean singer/songwriter of the 60s and early 70s, being a part of La Nueva Canción Chilena.
Alarcón’s lyrics are romantic, humanist, patriotic, profound and beautiful. His music blends a strummed-guitar folk sound with the drums and panpipes of indigenous Andean music, and the harmony is fresh and creative. The overall sound is unique.

Alarcón died in 1973. In an interview, Patricio Manns says that Alarcón suffered an internal hemorrhage and was taken to a first-aid station instead of a hospital, that the doctors there refused to operate on him because they were enemies of Allende, and that he died after five days. This was about 6 months before the Pinochet coup. (A relative of Alarcón says this story is apocryphal: that Alarcón was in Chañarall and had a bleeding ulcer, that he travelled to Santiago, was admitted to a hospital, and died on the operating table.)

This is a compilation of songs referring to the spanish civil war and the anti-fascist resistance.

Tracklisting:

1. El Ejercito del Ebro
2. Si Me Quieres Escribir
3. Puente de los Franceses
4. Yo Me Subí a un Pino Verde
5. No Hay Quien Pueda
6. Cancion de Bourg Madame
7. Ya se fue el Verano
8. Nubes de Esperanza
9. En España las Flores
10. Muerte en la Catedral
11. Que Culpa Tiene el Tomate

Rolando Alarcon – Canciones de la Resistencia y de la Guerra Civil Espanola
(128 kbps, front cover included)

Thanks to http://setiweb.ssl.berkeley.edu/~davea/index.php for the background information.

Rolando Alarcón – Canciones de la Resistencia y de la Guerra Civil Española

La Nueva Canción Chilena (New Chilean Song) is the musical voice of a social/political movement that lived in Chile in the 1960s and early 70s. The movement championed labor organization, land reform, anti-racism, and anti-imperialism. It supported the North Vietnamese in their struggle against the U.S.

Pinochet and the Fascist military junta seized power in Chile on Sept. 11, 1973. The New Chilean Song movement (along with most leftist political and social organizations) was destroyed, and its leaders murdered. The CIA and other U.S. agencies were heavily involved in installing Pinochet and keeping him in power. His thugs learned torture techniques at the U.S.-sponsored School of Americas.

Rolando Alarcón was a Chilean singer/songwriter of the 60s and early 70s, being a part of La Nueva Canción Chilena.
Alarcón’s lyrics are romantic, humanist, patriotic, profound and beautiful. His music blends a strummed-guitar folk sound with the drums and panpipes of indigenous Andean music, and the harmony is fresh and creative. The overall sound is unique.

Alarcón died in 1973. In an interview, Patricio Manns says that Alarcón suffered an internal hemorrhage and was taken to a first-aid station instead of a hospital, that the doctors there refused to operate on him because they were enemies of Allende, and that he died after five days. This was about 6 months before the Pinochet coup. (A relative of Alarcón says this story is apocryphal: that Alarcón was in Chañarall and had a bleeding ulcer, that he travelled to Santiago, was admitted to a hospital, and died on the operating table.)

This is a compilation of songs referring to the spanish civil war and the anti-fascist resistance.

Tracklisting:

1. El Ejercito del Ebro
2. Si Me Quieres Escribir
3. Puente de los Franceses
4. Yo Me Subí a un Pino Verde
5. No Hay Quien Pueda
6. Cancion de Bourg Madame
7. Ya se fue el Verano
8. Nubes de Esperanza
9. En España las Flores
10. Muerte en la Catedral
11. Que Culpa Tiene el Tomate

Rolando Alarcon – Canciones de la Resistencia y de la Guerra Civil Espanola
(128 kbps, front cover included)

Thanks to http://setiweb.ssl.berkeley.edu/~davea/index.php for the background information.

Rolando Alarcon – Canciones de la Guerra Civil Espanola (1968)

Here´s the another fine compliation with Rolando Alarcon´s recordings of songs related to the spanish civil war. It was released in 1968.

Tracklist:
01 – Si me quieres escribir
02 – El quinto regimiento
03 – El tururururú
04 – Dime dónde vas, morena
05 – A la huelga
06 – Canción de los soldados
07 – Viva la quinta brigada
08 – Eres alta y delgada
09 – El gallo rojo
10 – La paloma
11 – No pasarán

Rolando Alarcon – Canciones de la Guerra Civil Espanola (1968)

(192 kbps, front cover included)

Exuma – Exuma, The Obeah Man (1970)

One of the most unique and hard to classify artists of the 1970s, Exuma was a singular talent. Mixing the infectious rhythms and folkloric qualities of Bahamian music with rock, country, and other U.S. influences and adding a sharply satiric element of social commentary, Exuma’s music aimed for the heart and the feet at the same time.

Exuma was born McFarlane Anthony McKay on Cat Island in the Bahamas sometime in the early ’40s (no one seems to know exactly when). Raised on traditional Bahamian folk songs and the popular music known as junkanoo, a West African-based Bahamian version of calypso or samba named after a Boxing Day festival that’s the local equivalent of Mardi Gras or Carnival, McKay nevertheless planned a career as an architect and fell into life as a performer almost by accident. Moving to New York in the early ’60s to attend architecture school, McKay soon found himself living in the state of near-penury that’s the urban college student’s life. Noting the popularity of Bahamian guitarist Joseph Spence’s records in the Greenwich Village folk scene, McKay began playing venues like the Bitter End and Cafe Wha?, bringing traditional Bahamian folk music to the city, first as a solo artist but quickly forming a group called Tony McKay and the Islanders.

Tony McKay and the Islanders were a popular club band, opening for artists like Richie Havens or Peter, Paul and Mary through the mid-’60s. McKay began undergoing a personal transformation by the end of the decade, absorbing political influences from the black power movement and musical influences from acts like the Jimi Hendrix Experience and Sly and the Family Stone. McKay translated this political and artistic excitement through the traditions of his homeland and re-emerged by decade’s end as Exuma, the Obeah Man. (Exuma, besides being the name of one of the Bahamas’ largest islands, was a spirit balanced between the worlds of the living and the dead; Obeah is an Afro-Caribbean tradition of sorcery, like Santeria in Cuba or Vodun in Haiti.)

Signed to Mercury Records in 1969, Exuma quickly released two albums, “Exuma the Obeah Man” and “Exuma II” (both 1970). Mixing powerful Afro-Caribbean rhythms with Exuma’s shamanistic exhortations and vividly Obeah-inspired lyrics, these albums were conceptually similar to what Nigeria’s Fela Kuti was beginning to do around the same time. Like Fela, however, Exuma was largely ignored by American press, radio, and consumers, and Mercury quickly dropped him.

Exuma’s debut album was a real odd piece of work, even by the standards of the late ’60s and early ’70s, when major labels went further out on a limb to throw weird stuff at the public to see what would stick than they ever had before or have since. Roughly speaking, it’s kind of like a combination of the Bahamian folk of Joseph Spence with early Dr. John at his most voodooed-out, though even that nutshell doesn’t really do justice to how unusual this record is. Often it seems more like eavesdropping on a tribal ritual than listening to songs. Some of the tracks, indeed, have little or less to do with conventional “songs” than with tunes and lyrics; they’re more akin to Mardi Gras street percussion jams airlifted to the Caribbean islands. Exuma and his accompanists make quite a spooky clamor with their various bells, foot drums, chanting, gasps, sighs, shouts, and other percussive instruments, creating a mood both celebratory and scary. He’s not totally averse to using more standard song forms, though, singing about “zombies walking in the broad daylight” in “Mama Loi, Papa Loi”; devising a simple, fairly singable soul melody for “You Don’t Know What’s Going On,” his most famous song due to its inclusion in the movie “Joe”; and setting “The Vision” to an appealing, if again quite simple, folk melody. Exuma’s rough, unschooled vocals cut off any prospect of mainstream accessibility, but they get the job done in getting both his uplifting and ominous spirituality over.

No link.

Exuma – Exuma, The Obeah Man (1970)

One of the most unique and hard to classify artists of the 1970s, Exuma was a singular talent. Mixing the infectious rhythms and folkloric qualities of Bahamian music with rock, country, and other U.S. influences and adding a sharply satiric element of social commentary, Exuma’s music aimed for the heart and the feet at the same time.

Exuma was born McFarlane Anthony McKay on Cat Island in the Bahamas sometime in the early ’40s (no one seems to know exactly when). Raised on traditional Bahamian folk songs and the popular music known as junkanoo, a West African-based Bahamian version of calypso or samba named after a Boxing Day festival that’s the local equivalent of Mardi Gras or Carnival, McKay nevertheless planned a career as an architect and fell into life as a performer almost by accident. Moving to New York in the early ’60s to attend architecture school, McKay soon found himself living in the state of near-penury that’s the urban college student’s life. Noting the popularity of Bahamian guitarist Joseph Spence’s records in the Greenwich Village folk scene, McKay began playing venues like the Bitter End and Cafe Wha?, bringing traditional Bahamian folk music to the city, first as a solo artist but quickly forming a group called Tony McKay and the Islanders.

Tony McKay and the Islanders were a popular club band, opening for artists like Richie Havens or Peter, Paul and Mary through the mid-’60s. McKay began undergoing a personal transformation by the end of the decade, absorbing political influences from the black power movement and musical influences from acts like the Jimi Hendrix Experience and Sly and the Family Stone. McKay translated this political and artistic excitement through the traditions of his homeland and re-emerged by decade’s end as Exuma, the Obeah Man. (Exuma, besides being the name of one of the Bahamas’ largest islands, was a spirit balanced between the worlds of the living and the dead; Obeah is an Afro-Caribbean tradition of sorcery, like Santeria in Cuba or Vodun in Haiti.)

Signed to Mercury Records in 1969, Exuma quickly released two albums, “Exuma the Obeah Man” and “Exuma II” (both 1970). Mixing powerful Afro-Caribbean rhythms with Exuma’s shamanistic exhortations and vividly Obeah-inspired lyrics, these albums were conceptually similar to what Nigeria’s Fela Kuti was beginning to do around the same time. Like Fela, however, Exuma was largely ignored by American press, radio, and consumers, and Mercury quickly dropped him.

Exuma’s debut album was a real odd piece of work, even by the standards of the late ’60s and early ’70s, when major labels went further out on a limb to throw weird stuff at the public to see what would stick than they ever had before or have since. Roughly speaking, it’s kind of like a combination of the Bahamian folk of Joseph Spence with early Dr. John at his most voodooed-out, though even that nutshell doesn’t really do justice to how unusual this record is. Often it seems more like eavesdropping on a tribal ritual than listening to songs. Some of the tracks, indeed, have little or less to do with conventional “songs” than with tunes and lyrics; they’re more akin to Mardi Gras street percussion jams airlifted to the Caribbean islands. Exuma and his accompanists make quite a spooky clamor with their various bells, foot drums, chanting, gasps, sighs, shouts, and other percussive instruments, creating a mood both celebratory and scary. He’s not totally averse to using more standard song forms, though, singing about “zombies walking in the broad daylight” in “Mama Loi, Papa Loi”; devising a simple, fairly singable soul melody for “You Don’t Know What’s Going On,” his most famous song due to its inclusion in the movie “Joe”; and setting “The Vision” to an appealing, if again quite simple, folk melody. Exuma’s rough, unschooled vocals cut off any prospect of mainstream accessibility, but they get the job done in getting both his uplifting and ominous spirituality over.

No link.

Von den Sterbenden. Von den Gestorbenen. Von den Lebenden. – Zweiter Brecht-Abend mit Ekkehard Schall (LITERA, 1985, vinyl rip)

Here´s the second of three programms by Ekkehard Schall at the Berliner Ensemble with material by Bertolt Brecht.

Ekkehard Schall (born May 29, 1930 in Magdeburg; died September 3, 2005 in Berlin) was a German stage and screen actor/director. He was one of the best profiled actors of Brecht’s works and together with Helene Weigel a member of the Berliner Ensemble.

Schall’s first engagement was in 1947 in Magdeburg. After engagements in Frankfurt (Oder) (Stadttheater Frankfurt (Oder)) and on the Neuen Bühne in Berlin, Bertolt Brecht engaged him 1952 for the Berliner Ensemble. Schall played here till 1995, for 14 years as intendant.

He played more than 60 roles, for example the Ui in Brecht’s “Der aufhaltsame Aufstieg des Arturo Ui” more than 500 times.
Schall was honored in 1959 with the “Kunstpreis der DDR”, in 1962 and 1979 with the “Nationalpreis der DDR”.

He was married to Brecht’s daughter Barbara Brecht-Schall and is the father of actress Johanna Schall.

Von den Sterbenden. Von den Gestorbenen. Von den Lebeneden. – Zweiter Brecht-Abend mit Ekkehard Schall

(192 kbps, front cover included)

The original cover text in german language can be found in the comment section.

Ernst Busch – Six Songs For Democracy – Discos De Las Brigadas Internacionales (New York, Keynote Recordings, 1940)

The legendary album “Six Songs For Democracy” was originally issued by Keynote in 1940. It was a reissue of six songs recorded by Ernst Busch in 1937/38 in Barcelona during the spanish civil war. In 1937 Ernst Busch joined the International Brigades to fight against Fascism in Spain. His wartime songs were then recorded and broadcasted by Radio Barcelona and Radio Madrid.

These 6 songs by prominent German singer and stage actor Ernst Busch, a political refugee from Nazi Germany, who fought with the antifascist International Brigade during the Spanish Civil War were recorded with a chorus of soldiers, purportedly in the men’s barracks, with noises of wartime activity in the background. As translated from their Spanish titles, the songs included are “The Four Generals,” “Song of the United Front,” “Song of the International Brigader,” “The Thaelmann Column,” “Hans Beimler,” and a song from the Nazi concentration camps, “Song of the Peat Bog Soldiers.”

The photograph below shows Ernst Busch with comrades from the XI Brigade of anti-fascist forces in Spain during the Spanish Civil War. (As printed in “Ernst Busch: Canciones de las Brigadas Internationales”, VEB Deutsche Schallplatten, Berlin: Aurora-Schallplatten, 1963). Note: Busch is the only man in the photo not in uniform.

Ernst Busch – Six Songs For Democracy (192 kbps, front cover included)

Prince Buster – The Outlaw (1969 Blue Beat, vinyl rip)

Cecil Bustamente Campbell, O.D. (born 28 May 1938), better known as Prince Buster and also known by his Muslim name Muhammed Yusef Ali, is a musician from Kingston, Jamaica is regarded as one of the most important figures in the history of ska and rocksteady music. The records he made on the Blue Beat label in the 1960s inspired many reggae and ska artists.

Like “Wreck a Pum Pum” before it, “The Outlaw” could reasonably claim to stand among rock’s first-ever concept albums, a collection of songs built (for the most part) around the legend of the American west, bad men and, indeed, outlaws.

“The Cincinnati Kid” and a tight remake of “Al Capone,” the thumping “Gun the Man Down” and “The Baddest,” the driving “It’s Burke’s Law,” with its bemusing vocal premonition of Eek-A-Mouse and “The Outlaw” itself all feed into the album’s overall theme and, if the likes of “Happy Reggae” and “Fever” seem a little out of place, the blazing take on “Phoenix City” that closes the set swiftly restores the concept’s equilibrium.

Prince Buster – The Outlaw (1969, vinyl rip)

(256 kbps, cover art included)

Prince Buster – The Outlaw (1969 Blue Beat, vinyl rip)

Cecil Bustamente Campbell, O.D. (born 28 May 1938), better known as Prince Buster and also known by his Muslim name Muhammed Yusef Ali, is a musician from Kingston, Jamaica is regarded as one of the most important figures in the history of ska and rocksteady music. The records he made on the Blue Beat label in the 1960s inspired many reggae and ska artists.

Like “Wreck a Pum Pum” before it, “The Outlaw” could reasonably claim to stand among rock’s first-ever concept albums, a collection of songs built (for the most part) around the legend of the American west, bad men and, indeed, outlaws.

“The Cincinnati Kid” and a tight remake of “Al Capone,” the thumping “Gun the Man Down” and “The Baddest,” the driving “It’s Burke’s Law,” with its bemusing vocal premonition of Eek-A-Mouse and “The Outlaw” itself all feed into the album’s overall theme and, if the likes of “Happy Reggae” and “Fever” seem a little out of place, the blazing take on “Phoenix City” that closes the set swiftly restores the concept’s equilibrium.

Prince Buster – The Outlaw (1969, vinyl rip)

(256 kbps, cover art included)

Mike Bloomfield Allstars – Prisoner´s Benefit (San Francisco, April, 20th 1977)

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Michael Bloomfield was one of America’s first great white blues guitarists, earning his reputation on the strength of his work in the Paul Butterfield Blues Band. His expressive, fluid solo lines and prodigious technique graced many other projects — most notably Bob Dylan’s earliest electric forays — and he also pursued a solo career, with variable results.

Uncomfortable with the reverential treatment afforded a guitar hero, Bloomfield tended to shy away from the spotlight after spending just a few years in it; he maintained a lower-visibility career during the ’70s due to his distaste for fame and his worsening drug problems, which claimed his life in 1981.

The performance released on the bootleg “Mike Bloomfield Allstars – Prisoner´s Benefit” was part of a multi-group benefit for the San Francisco prisoners’ fund.

Tracks:
1. I Don’t Want No Wife
2. Movin’
3. You Send Me
4. Feel So Bad
5. Mr. Pitiful
6. Tell It Like it Is
7. When I Was A Cowboy
8. Women Lovin’ Each Other
9. Try It Before You Buy It
10. Too Much Monkey Business

Mike Bloomfield – guitar, vocals on tracks 7,8,9 & piano on track 1
John Cipollina – guitars
Mark Naftalin – piano
Roger Troy – bass, vocals on tracks 1, 2, 3, 10.
Robert Jones – drums, vocals on tracks 4, 5, 6.

Mike Bloomfield Allstars – Prisoner´s Benefit (1977, bootleg)