Mali Men’s Uplifting Blues

My favorite rockin’ nomads from North Africa made their second visit in two years to The Paradise in Boston last month and, once again, they presented an exotic blend of riff heavy, blues-based, trance rock with an undercurrent of tribal rhythms.

Despite the rampant riffology, overall the music is an upbeat, joyous, trance-like tapestry of melody, rhythm, singing and chanting. 

While many of the songs are indistinguishable to all but the most knowing of the group’s fans (I own six of their CDs yet have a hard time differentiating specific tunes on the fly), there is a definite sense of individual songs. It’s far from some endlessly meandering ebb and flow a la some Grateful Dead shows. The band certainly does jam, but most-often in distinct 2- to 6-minute arrangements that, for the most part, adhere to our Western sense of song structures (verse, chorus, bridge, etc.). 

There was no Ibrahim Ag Alhabib, the group’s most recognized public face and legendary founder, this time around. He may be phasing out of his role after 30-plus years leading the band. In last year’s Paradise show, he took the star turn and made little more than cameo appearances during the group’s lengthy set. The blue-robed Alhassane Ag Touhami (I think) took the lead role for most of that show and now he appears to have assumed the role of senior band leader, perhaps now, in turn, to yield the stage in increments to the next generation of newcomers. 

One new face – proverbially speaking, given what little you can see of them – this time was a tall dude, dressed in white with black head garb. He sang and clapped in the background for most of the nearly two-hour set, but on a handful of tunes he took the center mic to sing and play more ferocious, and more Western-sounding, electric guitar. He was spurred on by his seasoned bandmates, particularly the funky bassist who wouldn’t have been out of place grooving along to some Motown hits. The tall dude was also the only band member to sport a shiny new Gibson Les Paul on one tune – otherwise there’s a lot of sharing of guitars among the three six-string slingers.

The band’s authentic desert nomad apparel adds to the exotic flavor of things, but it also makes for an interesting juxtaposition considering the desert-meets-the-delta vibe of the music. I couldn’t help being struck by a thought spawned by the growing appeal of this North African music among American audiences and the anonymity of with its main proponents. If the tribe has as deep a well of talented musicians as it seems, they could outfit several touring groups to be traveling different parts of the North America and Europe through out the year (or at least in the desert off season). Kind of a musical Blue Man group from the Dark Continent. (I suggest that only partially in jest, and certainly with all due respect.) I hope Tinariwen come back for another annual visit next fall.

In the meantime, I’ll be on the lookout for other purveyors of these engagingly semi-exotic sounds from Timbuktu and beyond.

Desert-Bred Riffology

The desert guitar poets of Tinariwen at The Paradise , 11/18/11.

It was desert a go-go at The Paradise Rock Club in Boston last Friday night as the core of the Tuareg musical collective known as Tinariwen graced the stage with their simple, compelling guitar riffs (acoustic and electric), nomadic rhythms and rich vocal harmonies.

Think Led Zep’s “When the Levee Breaks” coupled with CSN’s soaring harmonies, and James Jamerson’s boisterously funky bass playing. Spread on some sweetly sung, albeit indecipherable, lead vocals – occasionally French, but mostly some Tuareg tribal dialect – and weave it around North African drumming and slinky, quite Western-friendly guitar riffs and you’ll begin to have an idea of the sound these serious soul men brought to town.

What a vibe! It was an inspiring evening of music – and one of those occasions that really makes me appreciate being in Boston with the opportunity to see (and hear!) a rare performance such as this. Even after all these years, I never take these kinds of things for granted. And they’re all the better experienced in a familiar old favorite like the (legendary) Paradise, where you can easily get a clear view of the action from 15 away or less – and still be no more than twice that distance from the bar! Paradise, indeed.

Playing as a quintet for most of the evening, the desert-dwelling dudes were all decked out in turbans, with the exception of founding member Ibrahim Ag Alhabib, the frizzy-haired face of the band who, in an old blues bandleader-like star turn, let his compadres warm up the crowd for a bit before making his appearance.

Fortunately, he wasn’t even missed, so good was his stand-in, young bandleader-in-the-making Hassan Ag Touhami, a fine singer and riffmeister on both acoustic and electric guitars. He spelled Ibrahim for the first half-dozen or so songs and again for several songs early in the encore. The band brought the celebration to a joyous close with all six members on stage, at which point Hassan again relinquished center stage to the elder Ibrahim, and joined in on backing vocals and dancing duties. The aforementioned bass playing of Eyadou Ag Leche was also exceptional and noteworthy in the superbly simple but sophisticated sound.

If you have the least bit of interest in blues-like world music, I highly recommend you check out Tinariwen – at the very least on record and, by all means, if you have the opportunity, in concert, too.

Further:

• Some fine listening ... All the collective’s releases are worthwhile, but you'd do well to start with:

– their latest, 2011’s Tassili (more acoustic and definitely more Westernized than their previous releases),

– 2001’s The Radio Tisdas Sessions (produced by English guitarist and world music afficianado Justin Adams of Robert Plant’s Strange Sensation band), and

– 2009’s Imidiwan (more electric like North Africa meets Memphis blues).

• Learn more about Tinariwen’s background.

3M Fascination: A Malian Music Movie

Regular readers of this blog know that I’m a big fan of music from West Africa, and Mali in particular. There’s something about the strong, resonant, string-driven, yet characteristically rhythmic African music that is clearly a wellspring for the Delta blues of the American southern, but also retains something uniquely distinct – even today, despite the infiltration of technology and cultural influences from the U.S., France and the Caribbean.

So it was with this perspective that I was delighted and intrigued to stumble across mention of this new movie-in-the-works about the music and musicians of Mali: Music in Mali: Life Is Hard, Music Is Good.

I didn’t learn about it through one of the typical music sources. No, I learned about it through reports on social media and unique approaches to fund raising; in this case, Kickstarter.com.

The video trailer above was part of the filmmakers’ effort to solicit a few bucks – from potential future viewers and otherwise good music-loving doobies like you and me – to help them cover the expenses of finishing off their film – eight years in the making. Not knowing a whole lot about Kanaga System Krush Records or this project, I can’t vouch for it’s veracity, but from I’ve read it appears to be legit. KickStarter has a good rep, too – as far as I know. And, how can you not be drawn in by the edgy, primal electric dessert melodies and vibrant imagery of hard life made joyous by music.

It seems that the filmmakers have already surpassed (at least in pledges) their goal of $20k by this weekend, but it’s still worth a look and consideration. The sneak peak above suggests they have something original and needed (on several levels) in the works. I can’t wait to see it on the big screen at an art house cinema one of these years.


FURTHER:
• Click these links for more information about the Music in Mali: Life Is Hard, Music Is Good project. and KickStarter.

A Sonic Swing Through West Africa

Saturday night the wife and I took a trip to West Africa via the Paradise Rock Club in Boston. OK, so it was only a metaphorical journey, but it was ably led by tour guides Amadou & Mariam. For those not familiar with these Malian music phenoms, the middle-aged, blind, husband-and-wife duo have, after a decades-long distinguished career, finally broken through big time in America this past year.

I’m no expert on West African or Malian music, but I have listened to a smattering of the genre over the years, and even beyond the obvious evolutionary connections to America’s southern blues roots, I have liked quite a bit of it: Ali Farka Touré, Tartit and Touareg musicians Tinariwen, as well as King Sunny Adé and others.

I’ve also read In Griot Time, former Boston writer Banning Eyre’s fascinating memoir of his six months studying guitar in Mali and getting to know most of the country’s leading musicians. Though Amadou & Mariam are only cited in the book’s appendix, In Griot Time is an enlightening and recommended read. It certainly gave me a better understanding of the context of Amadou & Mariam’s music. Nonetheless, you needn’t have read the book to enjoy this music.

Though I know there are significant differences between the music of Mali and other African music, such as the juju music of Nigeria popularized in the West by King Sunny Adé and the African Beats 20+ years ago (I was fortunate to have seen King Sunny play live back in the late 1980s), it does provide a foundational reference point to my ears. The rapid-fire, highly rhythmic guitar lines that Amadou Bagayoko lays down are occasionally reminiscent of King Sunny Adé. And, like Sunny, Amadou plays a Telecaster-style guitar, though his is seriously tricked out – at least cosmetically.

As with many African bands, there are quite a few people on stage with Amadou & Mariam: eight in this case. I was a little surprised by the racial mix of the backing musicians: a white drummer, bass player and keyboardist, with an African percussionist and background singers. The band was top notch – with everyone contributing notably to the overall sound and also being part of the constant motion machine (especially the two background singers who, if I heard – or rather interpreted – correctly, were sisters). They stick to the familiar instruments of rock fare – with the addition only of a funky cong-like drum or two – there’s no esoteric African stringed instruments like a kora or a ngoni.

The songs are sung primarily in Malian and French (still a principal language there, harkening back to the Colonial days), with just occasional snippets of English. Mariam Doumbia handles much of the singing, though Amadou also contributes a fair amount of vocals in addition to his distinctive guitar that works with the keyboards, drums and bass guitar to propel the music forward.

At the sold out Paradise show on Saturday. the music was energetic, joyously upbeat and fairly varied. It’s often referred to as Afro-blues, and while there were trace elements of blues and even rock, it drew from a broader palette than that term might suggest. The Parisian/Continental house flavorings lurked just beneath the surface and combined with the African rhythms to ensure the audience kept moving throughout.

At times, various tunes suggested shades of both trance and jam-band vibes and improvisation. I could also readily hear some passages suggestive of the Page/Plant projects of the mid 1990’s (probably more because those two have a long-held appreciation for the music of Morocco and Sub-Saharan West Africa than for their former band’s influence on the musicians of Mali, as had been recently suggested in some circles regarding Amadou & Mariam’s sound).

Perhaps more surprising, though, were the few points when I heard what struck me (again, in my frame of reference ) as mid-’80s-ish Simple Minds-like rhythms. This was probably due to the keyboard effects and standout drumming – both of which were notable characteristics of the Minds’ very European sound at their most original and inspired (i.e., not “Don’t You Forget About Me”).

Most of Saturday’s set list concentrated on the songs from Amadou & Mariam’s recent breakthrough CD Welcome to Mali. And, despite the language barrier (for some of us), the show featured several instances in which the lyrical content was clearly reflective of the love shared between the two leaders (most notably on “I Follow You,” one of the few English language tunes from the recent CD in which Amadou professes his unending love for Mariam). In a touching (literally) show of affection, Mariam gently caressed Amadou’s head while he was playing several times during the course of the evening. It was an endearing and genuine gesture.

If you like West African pop and you’re not familiar with these artists, check them out, I’m confident you’ll like them. Better yet, try to catch one of their performances, which take the sound from their well-produced and highly listenable CDs and cranks it up a few notches. If you’re not familiar with this genre of music, do yourself a favor, track some down. There’s something in it for everyone; whether you enjoy danceable popping rhythms, trance grooves, buoyant guitar playing or contemporary Afro-pop group singing with just enough Western connection to not sound off-puttingly foreign.

A Final Thought: It seems that over the last 20 years or so, every Caribbean island, cruise ship or summer-themed bar or restaurant in the Western hemisphere is compelled to play Bob Marley and other reggae (if they’ve even moved beyond Jimmy Buffet) to create a certain irie, island vibe. But DJ’s and entertainment programmers in these establishments could effectively spice up the sonic ambiance by incorporating the likes of Amadou & Mariam (as well as other Afro-pop standouts). It would fit the easy-going mood, while adding a little new energy and variety – and, in the process, perhaps even enlightening the curious few among the Spring Breakers and vacation set.

FURTHER:

• One indication of their notable rising in popularity stateside in the past year was the duo’s being featured in Time magazine this past March.

• Welcome to Mali, Amadou & Mariam, Nonesuch Records, 2009.

• In Griot Time, by Banning Eyre, Temple University Press, 2000.