Over the past couple of decades, a number of West African artists
have taken advantage of a new international interest in ‘world’ music
to gain attention beyond their own countries. Yet while one can
imagine the likes of Vieux Farka Touré and Toumani Diabaté
feeling equally at home in Paris or London as Bamako these days,
there’s still something wild and untamed about Tinariwen that sets
them apart from their fellow Malians.
As a nation straddling the divide between the vast wilderness of
the Sahara desert and the greener savannah to the south, Mali is also
a meeting point of several disparate cultures. As nomadic Tuaregs,
the music of Tinariwen varies greatly from those performers from more
settled village traditions such as Touré and Diabaté. Their name
actually translates as ‘deserts’ and while they may use electric
guitars and other modern instruments, the core of their sound is still
as raw and elemental as the harsh landscape inhabited by their
ancestors since time immemorial, and their songs speak passionately
about the issues their stateless people continue to face. Many of
their older members were rebel fighters and refugees during a period
of armed conflict with the Malian government, giving them a slightly
different type of life experience to say, Coldplay.
Founded as far back as 1979 but not ‘discovered’ by French world
music ensemble Lo’Jo until 1998, Tinariwen’s two most recent
albums – 2007’s Aman Iman and Imidiwan two years later – consolidated
their status as a major crossover act, culminating in a Glastonbury
appearance in 2009. Recorded in the depths of the Algerian desert,
Tassili is something of a back to basics album for the freewheeling
collective after their years of global jet setting, but it also sees
them take a further step forward by adding some new ingredients to
their tried and tested formula.
As the first notes of Imidiwan Ma Tenam bleed forth from the
speakers, the initial impression is that not much has changed.
Traditional Tuareg melodies are chanted atmospherically over a
backdrop of freeform guitar and rhythmic handclaps, with some subtle
drumming underpinning the campfire groove. But weaving his way almost
imperceptibly into the mix is Wilco lead guitarist Nels Cline,
who was also involved in Tassili’s post-production.
The western influence is more obvious but no less complementary on
the sublime, funky Tenere Taqqim Tossam, featuring the English vocals
of TV On The Radio’s Tunde Adebimpe. It’s perhaps not surprising
that the front man of this most eclectic of US bands is collaborating
with world musicians, but what’s commendable is the way he restrains
his often soaring voice to make sure it fits unobtrusively into
Tinariwen’s distinctive sonic world. Next track Ya Messinagh sees the
first appearance of The Dirty Dozen Brass Band, the most
respected exponents of the famous New Orleans style. It’s hard to
think of two more different musical styles, yet the Band’s maudlin,
sonorous timbre adds a rich new texture to Tinariwen’s songs of
longing and defiance.
Above all, the stars of Tassili are Tinariwen themselves.
Noticeably more acoustic than on their earlier records, we get to
witness the fragile beauty that exists in their music alongside the
visceral, bluesy drive. Walla Illa is a wonderfully lilting, soothing
lullaby, with Adebimpe providing softly cooing backing vocals, while
the complex solo guitar work on Tameyawt demonstrates that these are
musicians with the dexterity and flair to match the best anywhere. The
contributions of an impressive guest list only serve to further
enhance this compelling music, which remains uniquely imbued with the
spirit of the environment that shaped it.
LISTEN: Tinariwen - Tenere Taqqim Tossam, from Tassili
Tinariwen MP3s or CDs
Tinariwen on Spotify
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