A long, long time ago, former Cafe del Mar DJ Phil Mison sent me a photo. A shot of an old tape inlay. The words “Finis Africae” were written on it, as part of a list, in amongst other artists and track titles, some of which I recognized. The handwriting was Jose Padilla’s. It was simply “Finis Africae – Finis Africae”. I asked Phil, “Amigo, what’s this?” He said he didn’t know, and I figured, well, you can’t have everything. Then I heard the tape, and the tune – an improvised acoustic, organic symphony. Where a thunderstorm segues into cascading showering, chimes, instantly transporting you away to sunny, peaceful climes, and a flute sings its serene song. I was hooked, and had to find it.

Discogs existed, but I don’t think it was a marketplace, because the first online port of calls were always Ebay and Gemm. Searches of those sites resulted in me becoming the proud owner of a 12, and then an LP, by a Brazilian rock band, called Finis Africae. Neither contained the piece that Jose played, but I convinced myself I liked them anyway. 

Phil then mailed me a tiny low res photo. A blurry, pixelated, greenish square. On it I could make out a crouching, perching figure, and the words “Prima Travesia”. At least I now knew what I was looking for. 

Mancunian Balearic guru, Moonboots, told me that the best place bag a copy was on ebay.es, and I did, I found one, going for 15 Euros. While I was sleeping Balearic Mike then out bid me on it, and I’ll admit that I was a bit pissed. At the time, the heyday of the DJHistory forum, there was this kind of unwritten rule, a code of honour amongst the vinyl junkies, that if you spotted someone’s moniker in the bidding, well, then you left the auction alone. I messaged Mike and told him so. He said, “Sorry matey. I didn’t realize it was you”, but there be only one “sad_rob”.

I did, eventually, cop the album, from Amsterdam’s Red Light crew. I think I just straight up asked them if they had one. It cost me not 15, but 200 Euros, and it’s still the most I’ve ever paid for a record. The loon in me considered it to be a must-have for anyone committed to preserving the history, and the original spirit, of The White Isle. A “badge”, a totem, a “secret handshake”, entrance to an exclusive club. Then 10 years ago Em Records, out of Osaka, reissued it. 

I was in touch with Koki Emura at the label, since I’d been buying stuff from them direct, and so I knew what was coming – an impressive retrospective, with the title, A Last Discovery : The Essential Collection, 1984-2001. I remember the initial online fuss because El Secreto De Las 12 wasn’t on there. “How could they have left that off?!” I kept quiet `cos I knew that it was being pressed separately. I told Koki about the Jose Padilla / Cafe del Mar connection, and he was thinking of doing a remix E.P. When he asked me for some suitable names I suggested Apiento and James Holroyd / Begin, since I thought they’d be a sympathetic fit. If you know the Em Records catalogue, though, “sympathetic” and straight forward isn’t necessarily where they’re at. Those remixes never happened, however, Koki and Em did, a little later, also reissue Finis Africae’s 1990 album, Amazonia. 

A decade has passed and Prima Travesia has now been restored in its entirety, as originally intended, by Mario & Urba at Glossy Mistakes. As well as “El Secreto..”, Luna is also a tune, a lush tropical lullaby, while Radio Tarifa was apparently a floor-filling favourite at New York’s Mudd Club. It’s easy to imagine its avant, arty groove, saxophone squawk and honk, getting cross-eyed and painless shoulder-to-shoulder with Talking Heads.

As a big plus the new package contains an additional disc of tracks taken from turn-of-the-millennium privately-pressed CD releases, and the documentary, El Hombre y el Mar. Musically there’s nothing here that bucks what went before. It’s a mellow melting pot of instrumentation from all over the globe. Accordion, Miles Davis-like muted trumpet, Japanese koto, Indian sitar, whistling woodwinds, mimicking birdsong, all surfing on warm synthesized swells. Dancing to pretty percussive patterns. These are soothing spiritual drifts somewhere between free-jazz and the folkier end of kosmische, and there are standout moments of real beauty. El Viaje de Iradier somehow manages to echo both Wally Badarou’s Dachstein Angels and Wim Mertens’ Struggle For Pleasure in its coda. Alma Ata is a strange spoken word piece that pits pedal steel against psychedelic `60s West Coast harmonies. El Pulso de la Madera, from which this expanded edition takes its name, finds fretless bass lending Penguin Cafe-esque, aching, cello-led chamber music a slightly fusion flavour. Geosinclal starts like a hurdy-gurdy sea shanty ahead of dissolving into a haunting mandolin melody, panpipes, and drone.  

I still consider Finis Africae’s Prima Travesia to be an important record, and have no regrets about the cash I coughed up.* For diggers, musical excavators / explorers, the album was a gateway to not only the band, but also the solo work of its founding members, Javier Bergia, Luis Delgado, and Juan Alberto Arteche, and the legendary label that first issued it, Grabaciones Accidentales. Prima Travesia, and the hunt for it, was an introduction to the artistic milieu of mid-1980s Madrid.** An underground scene that sprang up around the Alphaville Cinema, and Gregorio Paniagua’s ensemble, Atrium Musicae. Bergia and Delgado were part of this group / collective, which was, and still is, committed to preserving ancient European music. Both accomplished guitarists and percussionists they then began to experiment, and jam with Arteche, on a diverse array of traditional, arcane gear and increasingly affordable brand new electronic kit. Delgado gave them the name, Finis Africae, a term lifted from the Umberto Eco novel, Il nome della rosa (In The Name Of The Rose), and referring to occult, forbidden knowledge. Alongside Em’s efforts Emotional Rescue released a compilation of Javier’s gems, cherry-picked from a catalogue of 13 albums by Moonboots and imprint owner,  Stuart “Chuggy” Leath. 

As a consequence Javier went on to write and record for Mr Mison’s Cantoma project. 

Stu also rescued Ishinohana’s La Flor De Piedra – a collaboration between Bergia, Delgado, and another Grabaciones Accidentales alumni, Manuel Illan – and Neptuno, an album produced by Delgado for Paniagua’s brother, sitarist, Luis – who I was lucky enough to interview.

Finis Africae’s Pulso de la Madera is available to pre-order via Madrid’s Glossy Mistakes.

Notes

*While I do sometimes spend daft amounts on records I only do so with cash that I`ve accumulated on Paypal from selling vinyl.

**Celebrated ambient composer / musician Suso Saiz was another contemporary and collaborator.