The ’70s didn’t end. They just got more elastic. Strut’s Nigeria 80 catches Nigerian popular music in that beautiful, unruly stretch between Afrobeat’s explosion and whatever came next—juju, funk, highlife, reggae, proto-hip-hop, and plenty of glorious cross-pollination along the way.

Hug is music for the small hours, when the world comes in and out of focus, a record that drifts through the mind’s open windows, carrying with it the sublime and resonant hush of a world at peace in its own unfolding. As warm and comforting as the name implies, Hug embraces you like an old friend, holding space for the warmth of the past, the uncertainty of the future, and the solace of the blossoming present.

Antonio Adolfo hated his 1972 solo debut. Intensely. He banned it from his official discography and denounced it whenever it resurfaced online. Yet the slightly off singing may be exactly what gives the self-titled LP its charm: there’s a Robert Wyatt or Scott Walker quality to Adolfo’s naturally dramatic timbre, with little bent edges creating tension against the jazz-inflected solos, basslines and gently cinematic arrangements. The result is a strange, beautiful record its creator wanted forgotten.

Everything about Pharoah Sanders’ eponymous 1977 album is a gift. It’s a masterpiece of quiet mystique and joy that almost never was. Despite the fact that the maestro himself was never satisfied with the album and rarely spoke about it, Pharaoh took on a life of its own over the next four decades to become one of Sanders’ most hallowed and revered recordings.

Stunning psychedelic baroque pop meets Latin-influenced west coast jazz. The story of teenage sisters Wendy & Bonnie and their sublime 1969 record Genesis is one for the books, recorded on the Skye label of family friend and vibraphone extraordinaire Cal Tjader and Gábor Szabó. Brimming with gusto and the sisters’ youthful ambition yet confident and chilling sunshine pop harmonies, the duo’s lone album is a maturely stunning accomplishment on several fronts.

I’ve been waiting for a vinyl issue of this 1999 no bullshit hard country record for decades. Well, now it’s here. Worth the wait.

Minneapolis lifer Jim Blaha goes it alone on Hang From A Cloud, a raw, bedroom-recorded set of wistful garage-psych and punk songs that crackle with romantic desperation. From the breathy “Some New Day” to the furious, sotto voce anthems of “D.O.A.,” Blaha distills decades in the underground into something intimate, ferocious, and beautifully unvarnished.

The latest archival installment from the Somalian hotel band shows an unwieldy group streamlining their sound in the studio, dialing up the hooks, battening down the rhythms and keeping the grooves on point. Taking inspiration from Motown and disco as much as reggae and Afrobeat, the Dur-Dur Band kept the wild 70s alive even as the ugly 80s were taking over.