kawuku sound is the coming together of uk producers contours & cervo and ugandan percussion troupe fonkodelis arkestra. this is the culmination of a month-long creative process that was born out of the nyege nyege affiliated boutiq studio in kawuku, kampala - uganda. the music was written and recorded in this shared residency space, home to musicians and visual artists from all over east africa and beyond, and a hub for kampala s underground electronic music scene. boutiq studio s diy mentality provided the perfect environment for experimentation, allowing the fusion of these disparate sounds. kawuku sound is a reflection of this, merging the hypnotic and trance-inducing percussion of buganda drumming with elements of contemporary electronics and traditional instrumentation. this the first album release to come out on manchester imprint banana hill as they continue to push the boundaries of afro-electronic sounds.

xoa continues to lay out a formidable interpretation of african-infused dance music for the modern age, following on from lauded appearances on shake, one house and soundway. alongside contours, he comes to banana hill with some next level transcendental head-quaking business that reaches from the roots of afrobeat right through to contemporary fx dubbing business. -too much talking- is a proper eyes-closed roller for the hazy moment in the dance, and -express- ramps things up to a strident tempo layered with a barrage of congas and djembes. the hectic pace is offset by swooning melodies, all wistful synth splashes and plucky guitar chops, stirring the soul as much as the feet.

banana hill is a london-based party helmed by cervo, and it s built a sterling reputation for embracing all manner of global grooves. now the party is spreading its wings by starting a record label that kicks off in fine style with the sound of multi-instrumentalist majid bakkas, a moroccan musician with many strings to his bow. both tracks on this 12- have been given a delicate shove in the direction of the dancefloor thanks to cervo, who pitches his kicks and claps just right to make for utterly natural sounding party fodder of the highest order.