Recorded across three nights in Kampala with a borrowed walkman, two phones and the city itself as the third deck, Kampala Night Tape is DJ Flo Moon’s field diary of a scene that never advertises. Boda engines are pitched into drones. Market chatter is chopped against dancehall pulled off FM radio, and the rain on Nakasero’s tin roofs becomes the only steady percussion of the hour.
Nothing here was cleaned up. The tape hiss belongs to the streets it was taped on, and the cuts land where the batteries died. Side B closes with the last matatu ride home: a slow, engine-warm dub that ends, like the night does, mid-sentence.
