EL TANBURA - Friends of Bamboute (30iPS)

Three years ago, El Tanbura impressed with their first international release of infectious traditional Egyptian dance music - Between the Desert and the Sea - and this 20th anniversary follow-up is every bit as seductive. The instrumental set-up is simple but effective, comprising the swinging strains of the five-string simsimiyya harp-lute from the band's Port Said origins; the tanbura, a six-stringed lyre that has a lighter, slightly more intricately melodic sound; the occasional tinge of richly harmonic nay flute; and clattering, chattering hand-drum percussion that pulls the rhythm this way and that, aided when applicable by handclaps and qarqaba finger castanets. The vocals, all-male, range from deep, spritual incantations to sprightly call and response chants, all inspired by mystical Suez Sufism and the swaying dance music of the hasish dens frequented by 19th Century Bambutiyya merchants of Port Said.
If you enjoyed the Bedouin Jerry Can Band's 2007 album Coffee Time (on which members of El Tanbura featured) you'll love the likes of Heela Heela and Afra - brisk, irresistibly catchy, but also expertly delivered with a sophisticated inter-marriage of melody and rhythm. There are slower, more mournful (even spiritual) moments such as Noh El Hamam, a love song delivered with great tenderness by band leader Zakaria Ibrahim against the sympathetic intonations of his backing band. And the lurching Badr Arid is an evocative praise song reminiscent of the best downbeat Tuareg desert blues. All good stuff, although El Tanbura tend to shortern their songs for the recording studio. That's understandable - indeed laudable given how this makes the music so accessible to the Western listener - but it's still advisable to catch them in concert when they hit your town, to bear witness to these songs as they unravel to their full unexpurgated brilliance.

ERSATZMUSIKA - Songs Unrecantable (Asphalt Tango)

The second album from Berlin's Russian émigrés takes us further into a dark and atmospheric world where post-Communist languor meets arch bohemian East German cabaret. This intriguing band possesses a contradictory sensibility that holds appeal for rock, indie, folk and 'world' fans alike. Off-kilter waltz rhythms meet deep growling Joy Division bass; plucked acoustic guitar, smoky accordion and harmonica mesh with angular Ribotesque clanking guitar; xylophone and percussion knock out subtle gypsy rhythms whilst piano and cello lend a ghostly chamber mood.
Vocalist Irina Doubrovskaja has been described as melancholic, such is the nature of the accordionist's deadpan, part Marlene Dietrich, part Nico delivery (the spirit of Velvet Underground is rarely far from the surface). But there's a dry, wry wit too. The (largely) English lyrics - whilst lacking dexterity - possess an endearing mix of callow Hippy platitudes, a naïve idealism and hints of post-modern absurdism (the band's debut album, Voice Letter, was all in Russian, so this move seems to be a marked attempt to broaden their appeal).
And musically, a nostalgia for the '60s pervades throughout - from those far-out lyrics and the Velvets influence, through a tinge of psychedelia, to a smattering of François Hardy's French yé-yé style on basic, rhythmically unkempt tracks such as '(Psilocybin Panic) It's the Russian Beat'. The off-beat Berceuse is the highlight, a European blues with elongated organ and chopping, chiming guitar figures that wouldn't be out of place on Tom Wait's masterpieces of downbeat Euro-centric Americana Blood Money and Alice.
Knowingly ingenuous, melodically off-key, nostalgically modern, sophisticated and yet always looking at the world through the eyes of innocents; Songs Unrecantable is both a yearning for the past sureties of behind-the-Iron-Curtain mundanity and a reflection of modern-day freedoms and fears. A balancing act pulled off with some aplomb.

RETURN TO GOREE DVD (Axiom Films)

Swiss film-maker Pierre-Yves Borgeaud's documentary follows Youssou N'Dour's journey gathering together a group of jazz musicians for a re-interpretation of his songs for a concert on the former slave transit centre off the coast of Senegal, and it's as modest and human a film as the approach to the project of the Senegalese singer himself. There's an affecting layered approach to the narrative with local cultural touches being interleaved with shots of rehearsals and live performances as the repertoire (chiefly comprising established N'Dour songs) is moulded and rearranged for a jazz setting. We are taken first to the island itself and a brief conversation between Youssou and charismatic Gorée museum curator Boubacar Joseph NDiaye about the historical and musical links between Africa and the Americas, and then onwards through Atlanta, New Orleans, New York, Luxembourg and the Senegalese capital Dakar as the various ensemble members are accumulated for the final concert performance on Gorée Island. Musical similarities are investigated (such as the link between West African Assiko rhythms and those of the Mardi Gras Indians of New Orleans) but not over emphasised, and there are some touching 'over the shoulder' glimpses of cultural divides - Atlanta gospel singers who are tasked with toning down mentions of God in their song, and the sudden nervousness of a previously confident New York vocalist Pyeng Threadgill when she is asked for an impromptu off-stage song by a Senegalese girl being two of the more charming vignettes of a gathering of culturally disparate but musically empathetic group of artists. Moncef Genoud is the relatively unsung hero of the film, and of the project as a whole. It was the Swiss pianist of Tunisian birth who ten years ago identified the possibilities available through marrying Youssou's open mbalax style with the similarly loose-structured jazz format, and whose musical sympathies lie most comfortably with the musicians the two men subsequently garner together. A match made in ersatz jazz supper-club hell? It has to be said that not all of it works for the non-jazz enthusiast, but Genoud has a finely tuned ear for identifying musicians that have an African feel to their playing and for giving ample space to all components of an ensemble and his spacious, light-touch arrangements also bring out the soulful side of N'Dour's singing so there is still much left to admire. Naturally, there's a more serious thread running through the narrative, that of the effect of the three-centuries old slave trade on African-American consciousness and what Youssou describes as the loss of demographic equilibrium that has since resulted in stunted development in many parts of Africa. NDiaye and New York writer Amiri Baraka (formerly Le Roi Jones) and others give more visceral, angry vent to those topics, but overall the impression one is left with is a mood of optimism and hope as black America and the Western world as a whole responds to the initiatives of influential Africans such as Youssou N'Dour.There's a bonus DVD which includes extended interviews with many key protaganists as well as the concert performance, which comprises one part straight modern jazz tunes to two-parts re-worked Youssou songs (Fital and Diabaram in particular are impressively reincarnated as jazz numbers), which at 50 minutes in length makes for a pleasant, undemanding diversion down one of the great man's many musical avenues.

www.axiomfilms.co.uk

BA CISSOKO - Séno (Stern's)

From electric griots to eclectic griots; for their third album, the Guinean electro-kora quartet have further pared back the wah-wah kora and beefburger guitar that was the ensemble's initial USP, refining the pop sensibility that crept into Séno's predecessor Electric Griot Land by taking in Latin influences, adding more of the lilting reggae heard on their second album and combining all that with some traditional (but self-penned) rolling Mandé rhythms. But fear not, wah-wah lovers, Ba Cissoko still push the electric envelope at times. On Badinia, Abdoulaye Kouyaté's guitar buzzes away as Sékou Kouyaté’s plugged in kora does its echoing, fed-back bit. And the funky electric guitar that leads feathery flurries of kora on Tamo and Music will please fans of the band's debut album.
There's a lot more going on elsewhere, intertwining kora melodies bubble in and out of syncopated rhythms, subtle - almost Americana-style acoustic guitar - is added to the mix in places, and a touch of flamenco guitar seeps through on tracks such as the funky Chauffeur Taxi.
It all makes for a consistently engaging and varied set, but the most pleasing development of all is the improvement in Ba Cissoko's vocals. One drawback of the previous two Ba Cissoko was in Ba's occasional inability to stretch his relaxed but limited range to meet the more polished and mellifluous arrangements. There are more of those than ever on Séno, but Cissoko's voice is much stronger and flexible too, and therefore better able to cope with the tunes. He's smooth and sure when he needs to be, and helped by a slight echo effect at times when more atmosphere is called for, all of wich enhances a much more nuanced and melodically strong collection of songs than previously.
Overall then, there's a lighter, tighter feel to this third offering from the cousins from Conakry, they're less reliant on guest appearances on an album that benefits from a more sinewy, melodic sound, with a growing tendency towards more wholly 'traditional' tunes. There's a sense that the electricity is gradually being turned down on each successive Ba Cissoko album, but there's a new spark there, one of refined song craft and a wider range of musical possibilities.

www.sternsmusic.com

FULA FLUTE - Mansa America (Completely Nuts Records)

We've heard plenty of reggae, soul, hip-hop and rock artists from all parts of the world singing the praises of Barack Obama in recent months, but Fula Flute do it in proper West African praise-song style, and the stirring Mandé tune Obama opens this consistently excellent second album from the group of North Americans and West Africans. The luminescent Abdoulaye Diabaté - a US-resident Malian singer who can hold his own against any from his native continent - extols the virtues of the new President over a swaying latticework of kora, ngoni, balafon and the breathy, raw sound of Bailo Bah's tambin flute. Fashioned from a conical vine, the instrument has a tremulous, imperfect quality that gives depth to the dozen tunes on Mansa America. Bah sings too, his voice a lighter, airier complement to Diabaté's, and at times a squealing adjunct to the wilder flute forays.
There's a seductive, pulsing rhythm throughout, with French-Canadian member Sylvain Feroux (also flute and vocals) and American Peter Fand (bass, bolon harp) as integral a part of the groove as the West Africans, a credit to the gratifying thread of natural musical empathy that runs through the collection - no attempt to bolt styles together here, this is straight down the line traditional Malian/Guinean fare all the way. With occasional added colour from a small horn section and guest ngoni player Cheikh Hamala Diabaté, Mansa America holds the attention exquisitely from first to last.

www.fulaflute.net

DABY TOURE and SKIP McDONALD - Call My Name (Real World)/SO KALMERY - Brakka System (World Village)

Despite a keen ear for a hook and an enviably wide-ranging instrumental ability, a criticism of Daby Touré in the past has been his tendency to smooth out his catchy tunes with generic singer-songwriter sheen. So hope was raised by recent reports of a more spiky side to the Mauritanian when he teamed up in concert with Skip McDonald, the gruff-voiced Little Axe man from Ohio. Add to that the presence of McDonald's On-U Sound-mate Keith LeBlanc on drums, and with Call My Name we're surely in for a six-song EP of bleeding-edge blues with a finely wrought West African melodic sensibility, right? Not quite, unfortunately. There's some good, grungy chuntering blues guitar here and there, Skip's sandpaper vocals contrasting well at times with Daby's smooth, woody timbre. But there are no real edges here; too much of the music has been smoothed out into a not-quite-blues that verges on the less interesting electric side of Touré's blander album fare. There can be no complaints about a lack of tunes - Touré probably reads the telephone directory at perfect pitch, and McDonald is a guitarist with a fine feel for whichever mood is required. But that mood is too often one of safety-first. The final, funky track Riddem offers the best clue as to the chance missed, a chunky blues that finds Daby much deeper in tone and LeBlanc hammering away for all he's worth. Next time, take these guys out of Realworld and into the other world of LeBlanc and McDonald's Tackhead dubscapes and we might have something worth talking about. Good, but could have been much better.

www.realworldrecords.com

Daby Touré guests as bass player on the irresistible sing-along Calling, the closing track on So Kalmery's latest album titled after the urban dance style he practises. The former Papa Wemba guitarist is originally from the Congo, but there's nothing of that country's chiming soukous sound here, and in many ways the first few tracks arguably deliver what the Touré/McDonald combination promises - a straight out of the blocks blues-soul groove based on electric guitar and a tough percussive drive. Hey! Mama Liza has big, funky electric guitar lines, tough beats with a rhythmic similarity to New Orleans second-line strut, and a storming blues-rock hook. The next track Regea maintains the appeal, with soulful female backing harmonies adding variance to Kalmery's forceful vocal. The party fun continues in this vein pretty well all the way through, albeit the appeal of what is a relatively limited form takes its toll over a whole album (some rather tacky English-language lyrics don't help matters).The only exception is Kamitik Soul, which finds So Kalmery playing (quite beautifully) an oud backed by guimbri (Gnawa acoustic bass) and an Arabic backing vocal. A fascinating diversion on an interesting, upbeat set of urban dance songs.

Distributed in the UK by Harmonia Mundi www.harmoniamundi.com

HANGGAI/MAMER – Union Chapel, Saturday 16th May 2009

An absorbing evening of Chinese music with central Asian folk origins in London’s delightful Union Chapel to close The Barbican’s intriguing Beyond The Wall programme of new Chinese music. Headliners of an evening billed as ‘Voices from the Grasslands’ were Beijing-based ensemble Hanggai, who perform traditional Inner Mongolian music that is as evocative of its provenance as, say, the camel-gait drive of desert blues Tuareg bands. In Hanggai’s case, it’s in the form of verdant ballads and galloping up-tempo songs that propel towards the audience in waves of internal rhythm and overlapping overtone singing. The band released an intriguing album under the World Music Network Introducing imprint last year, allying their rustic sound with modern instrumentation and production effects. But for this performance we got the six-piece alone, and stripped of its studio sheen the music was far more earthily engaging and energetic. All-seated, dressed in traditional garb, with the imposing but gentle-natured Ilchi sat centre-stage – his side-shaved hairstyle perhaps a remnant of his punk days – they drive out rolling country songs for a Central Asian hoe down performed on morin khuur (a box horse-hair fiddle sawed away at with energy by rasping overtone throat singer Hugejiltu), tobshuur (a strummed two-string lute), acoustic guitar and drums. At one point the ever-playful Ilchi performed a slightly gauche Mongolian dance, but he can be serious too, when performing the ballads that punctuate proceedings. Hugejiltu’s morin khuur is beautifully expressive and mournful on these, the sharp, plangent notes making full use of this snug venue’s natural acoustics. Earlier, Mamer – an ethnic Kazakh from Xinjiang in the west of China - warmed the audience with his reflective rural balladry. He once had a brief flirtation with world music fame with his group IZ when he drew the attention of DJ Andy Kershaw, and his new solo CD, the accomplished Eagle, continues their folk feel, featuring acoustic guitar and dombra, a traditional Kazakh lute with two strings that possesses a pleasing earthy whine when strummed. His Union Chapel performance featured just one song featuring dombra alone – or rather, Mamer in a duet with colleague Ibrahim on a wonderful bucolic folksy romp that was all too brief in its thrilling cross-play. The rest of the time Mamer – seated, taciturn, almost hiding his boyish visage under a beige cap – was backed by electric guitar, bass and drums, with many of the songs starting with taped atmospheric backing and building on wailing guitar, bass and kit drum over his deep, undulating voice, jangling guitar and jaw’s harp, the highlight of which was Blackbird, one of those songs with a the kind of nagging melody that the audience takes with it into the post-gig night.