BOM’s Àṣẹ, unveiled via dancefloor oracle Paper Recordings in vinyl and digital formats, is a nine-track invocation of sonic Àṣẹ – the Yorùbá force that turns sound into spellwork. Àṣẹ is a dazzling, shapeshifting beast: gqom’s metallic stutter locks horns with shangaan electro’s lightning-footed chaos, while afrotech’s interstellar throb melts into Balearic honey and dub’s smoke-ringed depths. House music’s soul meets breakbeat’s clandestine rebellion, all wrapped in a psychedelic Yorùbá futurism that crackles like sacred voltage. This isn’t just an album – it’s a possession ritual, demanding hips twist, shoulders shimmy, and spirits answer.

And then – “Funk, Jive And Break” lives up to its name. A riotous three-act play in one track, it slingshots from funk’s sweat-slicked basslines to jive’s cocky, swinging swagger before detonating into breakbeat’s guerrilla warfare. The rhythm section operates like a possessed clockwork – all precision and wild abandon – while synth stabs and vocal chops spiral like a Masquerade dancer mid-possession. It’s the album’s sly, shapeshifting heart: proof that BOM’s magic lies in turning chaos into ceremony, and ceremony into a command to move.

You can find (and buy) this and other music pearls on the Bandcamp page of the label.

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