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Francis Bebey

Tresor Magnetique

Francis Bebey - Tresor Magnetique | Africa Seven (ASVN076) - main
Francis Bebey - Tresor Magnetique | Africa Seven (ASVN076) - 1Francis Bebey - Tresor Magnetique | Africa Seven (ASVN076) - 2

A1

Forest Nativity (extended version)

A2

Le Grand Soleil De Dieu

A3

La Condition Masculine (English extended version)

A4

Quand Le Soleil Est La (alternate Drum Machine version)

A5

Ganvie

B1

Kikadi Gromo

B2

Immigration Amoureuse

B3

Where Are You? I Love You

B4

Dash, Baksheesh & Matabish

B5

Je Vous Aime Zaime Zaime (alternate Drum Machine version)

C1

Agatha (alternate version)

C2

L' Amour Malade Petit Francais

C3

Ndolo

C4

Chant D'Amour Pygmee

C5

Funky Maringa

D1

Crocodile - Crocodile - Crocodile

D2

L'Ile De Djerba

D3

Kitibanga

D4

Asma (alternative Tape version)

D5

Savannah Georgia (alternative version)

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A compilation of unreleased tracks, archival recordings, and neglected gems from Bebey's vault

The compilation's name (translated as "Magnetic Treasure") sets the stage perfectly. Not only does it reference the fragile tapes discovered in the home of Bebey's son, Patrick, but it also hints at the almost gravitational pull of Bebey's art. Meticulously digitized at Abbey Road Studios, these tracks radiate clarity and urgency that defy the decades separating them from contemporary ears. One listen to Tresor Magnetique, and it's as if you're opening a letter from another era, only to find that its contents speak to you more vividly than today's headlines.

In an era when African artists were sometimes stuffed into marketing categories like "world music" or "folk," Bebey adamantly mixed and matched instrumentation that had seemingly no business coexisting. A pygmy flute might flutter against the metronomic pulse of a drum machine, or a classic guitar riff might coil around a looped synthetic soundscape. In hearing these recordings, you get the sense of a mind in constant motion, rarely content to finalize a piece and move on.

Tresor Magnetique feels less like a dusty retrospective and more like a living, breathing dialogue with the present. For newcomers, it offers a doorway into a vast discography that moves fluidly between danceable afro-funk, folkloric chanting, politically charged commentary, and shimmering electronic explorations. For longtime fans, it unearths new corners of a beloved catalog, revealing how Bebey's restless spirit never quite let a song rest in one configuration for too long.

Francis Bebey wasn't merely "ahead of his time"- he operated on his own timeline entirely. In a century that often demanded conformity or neat categorization, he insisted on an expansiveness that belongs just as much to the future as it did to the mid-1900s. And that is why, as we immerse ourselves in Tresor Magnetique, it feels like we're not just discovering lost artifacts-we're confronting ideas that remain radical and relevant right now.