Following the great tradition of the Saharan Touareg, the desert bluesmen Tinariwen were back on the road to promote their brand new album, Imidiwan. They were recently passing by London and I met Eyadou Ag Leche, the bassist of the music act. He talked about their influences, the role of Tinariwen and its association, Taghreft Tinariwen, within the Touareg community. He also explained the signification of  the Tamasheq term assuf, which is often used to describe their music.

Eyadou Ag Leche by Amiram Bukowski

Nicolas Roux: How was Tinariwen born?

Eyadou Ag Leche: The band was born in the eighties. When Ibrahim [Ag Alhabib] was travelling between Algeria and Libya, he discovered the electric guitar. Using that instrument, his ideas came to light. He adapted these new ideas with the traditional music that already existed.

Nicolas: What does Tinariwen mean? Why did you choose that name?

Eyadou: It’s the plural of Ténéré*. It means “the deserts”. Generally speaking it’s in reference to the deserts where all the nomads live. They’re people who have always felt the love of the earth. They’re still adapted to the nature. In other words Tinariwen reflects our attachment to the desert.

Nicolas: Where does your music originate?

Eyadou: This music already existed when we were born. Our parents played it. There are some poets who date back more than a thousand years. It’s a very ancient music and we write our songs in this spirit.

Nicolas: With albums such as Aman Iman or Imidiwan, we can hear traditional influences but also a more recent rock or blues sound. Have you been influenced by western artists?

Eyadou: We really like discovering new artists but we also want to stay true to our roots. When you discover new instruments and new sound techniques, it helps you to transfer a type of sound towards another sound that doesn’t necessarily belong to you.

Nicolas: Your music is often described as assuf. Can you explain what it means?

Eyadou: Assuf, it’s a kind of deep nostalgia that is proper to the desert people. I can’t really translate it. You always feel a kind of nostalgia, an inner pain. You don’t really know where it comes from. You feel good but there’s a sense of nostalgia. That’s what assuf is.

Nicolas: Tinariwen is an engaged band. What message do you try to convey?

Eyadou: Today we have a peace message. The situation in our country is also happening in other parts of the world. There’s a lot of tension everywhere and it doesn’t lead to anything. It’s still possible to have a simple life in nature. We also talk a lot about education and love.

Nicolas: You and the other band members were part of the Touareg rebellion in the nineties. Do you think your music helped to raise awareness of the situation in the Sahara?

Eyadou: Yes of course. Our music played an important role. That’s the only way we found to gather a lot of people in order to talk about what’s happening. We do not sing to create problems. We sing about the things that we see, the colours that we see in life. People must wake up. They must see things the way they are but also accept them. That’s what we talk about. Some people did wake up and the situation got better after the rebellion.

Nicolas: Earlier this year there was a peace deal concluded between the Malian government and the Touareg community. Has the situation improved since then?

Eyadou: The region has been quiet. There’s a lot of politics involved. The rebellion pursues its policy and so does the Malian government. If we didn’t have a peace deal, far worse problems would come to light. We’d rather accept these conditions in order to secure peace. That’s always better.

Nicolas: Could you tell us about your association Taghreft Tinariwen?

Eyadou: It’s an association we created to protect the Touareg cause. It’s as if it was a mother or father of the Touareg activities. We haven’t got hospitals, schools. We have nothing. Therefore we hope that the association can help our community, Mali and even nomads from elsewhere. It’s like a dream that came true for us. The same way the band Tinariwen has made its way. We hope that the association will make its own way. We’re really tired but we’re happy with results. The task can be shared basically.

(Translated from French by Nicolas Roux)

* The Sahara desert is formed of several deserts. Ténéré, which means “the desert”, is the main part.

Here is a very interesting tune by a band from Mali, it’s very tribal and the band consists of members of a nomadic tribe . In a way, this is what you’d probably call Saharan blues, and in this music , is the roots of the blues.

Here’s the website of this incredible band Tinariwen

Ésta historia merece ser contada.

Al sur del Sahara, entre la quietud del paisaje y las gentes de Tamanrasset,  existe una banda de músicos/soldados formada por 7  tuaregs que llevan juntos desde 1979. Desde entonces, juntos han tenido que compaginar Kalashnikovs con guitarras. Tal cual. Para ellos cantar supone una forma de hacer justicia y contar a su propio pueblo todo lo que está pasando y lo que están viviendo en sus propias carnes. Un pueblo arraigado en su arcaica vida nómada, y más acosumbrado a escuchar los tradicionales cánticos sobre antiguos héroes guerreros.

Ibrahim Ag Alhabib, es el fundador de dicha banda, llamada Tinariwen, que en castellano podríamos traducir por  “Desiertos”.  Él también es el creador de ese estilo tuareg tan propio de tocar la guitarra, el Touareg blues guitar. Un estilo que ha creado una base que sin duda va a ser exportada a muy corto plazo, lo que significa que multitud de nuevas y no tan nuevas bandas van a dejarse influenciar por ellos. Al tiempo.

La historia de Ibrahim comienza de muy joven cuando su padre es asesinado en la primera rebelión tuareg contra el Gobierno de Mali, muerte de la cual solamente tendría conocimiento años más tarde y que le dejará marcado para siempre. En 1979 en la ciudad de Tamanrasset, conoce a un hombre que paseaba cada día frente a él con su guitarra al hombro, y que finalmente sería quién le enseñase a tocar canciones árabes y al cual llega un momento en que le compra incluso su propia guitarra. El propio Ibrahim contaba cómo se amolda a la vida occidental mientras trabaja, pero decía no entender nuestro frenético ritmo de vida, a la vez que añoraba siempre el regreso a la calma y sosiego del desierto.

En la música de Tinariwen, al contar esencialmente lo que han visto y vivido durante años,  hay mucho sitio para la nostalgia, la rebelión y el sufrimiento, aunque también hablan del orgullo natural de los suyos. Tinariwen desborda originalidad, carácter y know-how. Pocas bandas o músicos tienen la habilidad de transportarte a un determinado lugar o momento y ésta es una de ellas.

Su interpretación del blues es única. Las líneas de bajo y guitarra entrelazadas con su música tradicional ha dado lugar a lo que hoy escuchamos. Un nombre que por fín podremos lanzar más allá de los charts del World Music. Cuentan ademas con un productor, Justin Adams, ex-productor y guitarra de Robert Plant que les ha guiado levemente dejándoles tocar a sus anchas.Así se subirían al escenario con el propio Plant en cierta ocasión

En definitva, podemos decir que Tinariwen crea música balsámica, escabrosa, exigente, con ritmos hipnóticos y un blues cuasi funkero que raramente habíamos escuchado ántes. Música grabada en ocasiones desde la noche abierta del desierto, captando toda la esencia y espíritu del mismo.

Recientemente, una de las revistas más respetadas del mundo musical como es Uncut, les ha concedido su máximo galardón, sustituyendo así a Fleet Foxes, ganadores de la pasada edición. A ello ha colaborado la salida de su último disco llamado Imidiwan: Companions, que supone la continuación y confirmación de su anterior trabajo Aman Iman, con el que dieron el salto definitivo fuera de las fronteras africanas.

El curso natural del rock, nos ha regalado ésto.

Os dejamos con uno de los cortes de Imidiwan: Companions, Lulla.

Selam african festival öppnade i fredags på Konserthuset i Stockholm med storstjärnan Oumou Sangare, en verklig lyckträff skulle det visa sig. Inledde gjorde loungiga instrumentalensemblen Addis Acoustic Project.

Från västafrikanska Mali har det kommit massor av stjärnor: Salif Keita, Mory Kante, Amadou & Mariam, Tinariwen och, inte minst, Ali Farka Touré för att nämna några. Men denna kväll var det alltså dags för Malis största kvinnliga stjärna Oumou Sangare att äntra Konserthusets scen.

Redan från början satt musiken precist och inspirerat från bandet, det fanns just ingen startsträcka. Oumou Sangare kom in på scen efter en stund till publikens jubel. Sedan början av hennes karriär har hennes musik och sång ständigt vuxit sig starkare. Hennes sång idag är en av dessa omedelbart igenkännbara rösterna, som hos sångerskor som Erykah Badu eller den ofta förekommande jämförelsen med Aretha Franklin, båda har ordentlig kraft i sina röster. Men det är inte bara själva rösten utan även sättet att sjunga på, hur hon kommer in så precist när bandet puttrar på, som utmärker hennes personliga stil.

Musiken har en hel del gemensamt med den musik Salif Keita skapat de senaste åren. Men där det akustiska är relativt nytt hos Salif Keita har Oumou Sangare snarast utvecklat den stil hon slog igenom med för femtontalet år sedan. Mera puls och hetta har gjort musiken angelägen för en betydligt större publik.

Under fredagens konsert var hon på utmärkt humör vilket smittade publiken. Många kom upp och dansade en stund på scenen. Det blev en sällan upplevd positiv stämning. Definitivt årets bästa konsert på alla sätt.

Förbandet Addis Acoustic Project bjöd en stunds trevligt och flyhänt musicerande av det mer loungigt tillbakalutade slaget. Med rötterna i 50- och 60-talen var det en hel del jazz, en hel del afrikanska rytmer samt arabiskt sirliga ornament och melodier. På det hela taget som en välanredd förrätt, som snabbt glömdes bort när den väldoftande kryddstarka huvudrätten bars in.

I helga var jeg på Oslo World Music festival og konsert med Tinariwen. Et fantastisk band med en utrolig historie. Grunnleggeren rømte hjemmefra da han var ni! De møttes i Gadaffis geriljatreningsleire for tuareger. Deres første spillejobber var nærmest som MPAs musikalske gren (Mouvement Populaire de l’Azawad).

Selv om de har gått fra “kalashnikov til gitar”, og i dag spiller på konserter og festivaler over hele verden, er musikken fortsatt veldig politisk. Bandet er dessuten et sånn band som jeg må finne ut mer om når jeg først har begynt. Stor var derfor gleden når jeg så at en av mine gamle helter, Steve Chandra Savale fra Asian Dub Foundation (selv om han angrep Aleksander Rybak på Twitter og heide på Armenia), har lagd et program om Tinariwen i serien “Music of resistance“. Nyt musikken og la deg fascinere av historien.

Tinariwen på Last.fm

The Vox DA5 is a relieable, little workhorse of an amp, widely used by buskers, at home and even at small gigs…but, used in the Sahara desert!? Yes…the DA5 now makes name for itself in the Sahara, as acclaimed band Tinariwen also uses this fantastic little “desert amp”! Find out more… 

Good amps are hard to come by at the best of times, but in the desert? This is why Ibrahim Ag Alhabib, lead guitarist with Tinariwen, who both records and lives in the Sahara depends on his Vox DA5 guitar amp (last UK stock of which is available from Dolphin Music only) when the band goes out and about among the dunes. Strapped onto the back of the nearest available camel, the DA5’s portability makes it the ideal desert amp – and because it runs on batteries there is no problem with the electricity supply; making it ideal for the nomadic lifestyle of this now internationally well known band.

Alhabib is also keen on his Vox AC30, which the band used on their latest album.

“I do like Vox. They’re solid and have a very honest rock sound, which is what I’m after for my music,” he said. “It’s important for our music not to sound too sweet and the Vox helps with that.
The rhythm guitars were fed through a Vox [AC30] on Imidiwan to get that grungy, churning sound.”

Check those photographs of the DA5 in the desert!

Tinariwen have paid their dues. Formed in 1982 by a group of Mali musicians seeking respite from the brutal regime of the government, they used home-made guitars to fuse African and Western influences and forged a reputation that was too big even for the Sahara desert to contain.

By the time of 2007’s Aman Iman album, Tinariwen was on the lips of legends from Robert Plant to Chris Martin, on stages from Glastonbury to Coachella and in the record collections of people who previously thought ‘world music’ was a dirty word. With the Vox-powered fourth album Imidiwan: Companions storming the charts, it looks as though they still have along way to go.

Check Vox DA5 Amps here – Last UK Stock, Dolphin Music Exclusive offer!

Read the full interview:

With Vox-powered fourth album Imidiwan: Companions storming the charts, singer/guitarist Ibrahim Ag Alhabib looks back at the long, hard road behind him.

VOX: How hard was it to get to this point?
Ibrahim Ag Alhabib: “It’s been very tough. I lost my father in the first rebellion in the early-’60s, then lived in exile until my twenties. The journey has been the same for thousands of other young Touaregs [the nomadic people of Western Africa] of my generation. Sometimes the suffering was intense; you can feel it in our music. But it wasn’t totally bleak. We drew strength from each other, and faced the challenges together. That’s one meaning of the new album title. I wanted to dedicate it to my companions, who have shared this long, hard road with me.”

VOX: How important is music in Touareg culture?
IAA: “Music is everything. From the day you are born to the day you die, music accompanies you everywhere. But Tinariwen doesn’t play traditional music. Before us, the guitar didn’t exist in Touareg music. We introduced the instrument because it was easy to carry across the desert. It’s also an instrument that is known all over the world, so by using it we were opening out to the rest of the world. In fact, all the traditional instruments, like the tindé, the imzad and the teherdent, have some kind of restriction on them; either they can only be played by women, or by traditional griots [‘bards’]. The guitar was a free instrument, because it was so new.”

VOX: Which Western artists inspired Tinariwen?
IAA: “Each of us has their favourites. In the early days, I’d listen to Elvis Presley, Dire Straits, Santana, Led Zeppelin, Jimi Hendrix, Bob Dylan. We also love acoustic music, and country and western artists.”

VOX: Did you ever think you’d be this successful outside Africa?
IAA: “We always dreamed about it. We’d look at maps and wonder what it would be like to be standing in New York, or Japan, or the plains of Canada. So it’s remarkable that these dreams have come true. In the early days, we never thought our music might have any meaning for people outside the desert. Our audience were the Kel Tamashek, our own people. Since 2001 we’ve been conveying the same messages of awareness, of love of the desert, to the rest of the world.”

VOX: How does it feel to know that the world’s biggest artists are now your fans?
IAA: “It feels good to have the respect of some great musicians; like a justification of all our efforts and sufferings. I’m especially pleased that we’ve met and worked with Robert Plant and Santana, who are two artists I admire a lot.”

VOX: What are the challenges of recording in the Sahara?
IAA: “For me, it’s concentration. The desert has many distractions. My family are there and they often need help to carry and fetch people or animals. I also love to spend time in the bush, on my own, under the stars, and it’s hard for me to be around people for too long. But then, the desert is where I feel free. It’s where my inspiration comes. So that’s a bigger advantage, I think.”

VOX: Is it true that you made your first guitar?
IAA: “Yes, when I was very young, maybe four or five years old. It was made with a plastic water container, a stick, some rope and bicycle brakewire. It was pretty much the same as the guitar the kid is playing on the cover of the new album.”

VOX: How hard is it to find good amps in the desert?
IAA: “You can’t find any amps in the desert! You have to bring them from Europe. There are no music shops within fifteen hundred kilometres of my home.”

VOX: Have you always been fans of Vox?
IAA: “I do like Vox. They’re solid and have a very honest rock sound, which is what I’m after for my music. It’s important for our music not to sound too sweet, and the Vox helps with that. The rhythm guitars were fed through a Vox [AC30] on Imidiwan to get that grungy, churning sound.”

VOX: What made you choose the AC30 and DA5?
IAA: “It was Justin Adams, who produced Aman Iman. He brought an AC30 to the sessions in Bamako. The DA5 is a good desert amp. It’s tough and it runs on batteries so we don’t have problems when there is no electricity supply. We also used a Vox wah pedal on Aman Iman – you can hear it on the song Assouf.”

VOX: Finally, do you feel like rock stars?
IAA: “No. We don’t really know about rock stars in the desert. We’re treated just the same as we ever were. Nobody bothers us. We’re just one of the people.”

Visit the Tinariwen Artist Page at Dolphin

www.tinariwen.com  

Interview by Henry Yates – Photos by Jean-Paul Romann. Originally from Voxamps.com

Buy Safe with UK’s Award-winning Music retailer!

Sunday, office-bound and the wind has been howling like a banshee since the early hours of the morning.

Which is roughly the same time I listened enraptured to the full version of Kashmir by the mighty Led Zeppelin, albeit a version by Robert Plant and the equally awesome Tinariwen.

So far I have lucked out of finding that exact clip, but for those with patience and time it can be found on Bob Harris’ Tinariwen special, here.

Tinariwen are beyond spectacular: whether it is the combination of all things Saharawi and electrical guitar or the mere awesomeness of their music, they are formidable and truly innovative.

Forget Glastonbury; what I would not give attend the Festival in the Desert…

Alas, as yet it is not to be; but thanks to the digital age in which we live, I can rejoice in the original Kashmir:

Simply. Amazing.

Tinariwen, Setúbal – Arrábida World Music Festival, 3 de Julho de 2009

Tinariwen, Setúbal – Arrábida World Music Festival, 3 de Julho de 2009

Their finest album. Over the past almost thirty years, Malian Tuareg desert rockers Tinariwen have pushed the envelope, taking their hypnotic, trance-inducing duskcore sounds around the world. This is their most diverse, their catchiest and most memorable cd yet, a triumph of determined, contemplative guitar, methodically swaying rhythms and vividly aphoristic lyricism (sung in Tamashek, their native tongue). All of the songs here share Tinariwen’s trademark resolute, sometimes mantra-like insistence, many of them inflected with an Ali Farka Toure-style bare-bones desert blues vibe. Yet this is also their most ambitious effort: it’s their most accessible, most straight-up rock-oriented album so far. The opening track, like most of the others written by the band’s often inscrutable leader Ibrahim Ag Alhabib, works a ridiculously catchy riff that would be perfectly at home on a Clash album. Except that it’s about half the speed the Clash would have played it at, Alhabib ruefully examining the state of a revolution whose leaders have run dry: they can’t keep the trees growing.

Another tune, a battle anthem, kicks off with echoes of Hendrix: but it’s the pensive, thoughtful Little Wing Hendrix, not the madman of Machine Gun. A traveling song slinks along with contrasting layers of male and female voices (there are ten fulltime members in the band, but as this album was recorded on the band’s home turf in Mali, they had plenty of friends available to join the fun). A rousing call for Tuareg unity gives bassist Eyadou Ag Leche, the band’s most overtly aggressive player, the chance to go up the scale and add some striking crescendos within the song’s characteristically static, resolute structure. There’s also a strikingly warm, almost pop song with a 60s soul feel, a haunting, pulsing number whose eerie descending progression evokes early Pink Floyd or even Bauhaus, and the fiery Ere Tasfata Adouna (He Who Values Life) that wraps up the songs, guitars finally cutting loose and ringing out in a hailstorm of overtones, jangle and clang. The album concludes with a somewhat tongue-in-cheek drone instrumental a la the early Grateful Dead, Alhabib playfully toying with his amp for as many subtle feedback effects as he can find. As psychedelic music goes, this is unsurpassed. It ought to win an even wider audience for the self-described “world’s most popular African band,” and for those who’ve already discovered them, it’s a must-own.

An especially valuable plus here is a complete lyric sheet with English translations. As another bonus, the cd includes a thirty-minute DVD film by Jessy Nottola, an understatedly shot mis-en-scene featuring clips of the band in their milieu along with songs from several of their recent albums. Which makes this one a considerable bargain.

Le grand groupe touareg, poursuit sa voie authentique, sans concession. En concert à Genève mercredi 14 octobre 2009.

(Cet article est initialement paru dans le numèro de septembre du magazine Vibrations)

Ils se battent pour du sable et des cailloux : voilà près de vingt ans que le peuple touareg, séparé arbitrairement par des frontières au moment de la décolonisation, se bat pour son unité, pour son identité aussi. De mouvement de rébellion en riffs de guitare, ce bout de désert-là continue de refuser de se taire. Du groupe de femmes, Tartit, aux rockers de Tinariwen, l’homme bleu sort de son désert et conquiert les scènes musicales du monde entier. Avec leurs guitares électriques, leurs chants murmurés, leur blues désossé, cachés dans leurs chèches, les musiciens de Tinariwen exercent une fascination digne de pop stars. L’histoire commença  à la fin des années 70. Deux chômeurs du nom d’Ibrahim et Intiyaden, en exil en Libye, découvrent la guitare, s’en emparent et se mettent à composer. Et sont bientôt rejoints par d’autres. Tinariwen est né. Pour la première fois des chansons touarègues expriment des sentiments – l’exil, la nostalgie. la vie quotidienne – au lieu des grands poèmes classiques de la culture touarègue. Bientôt les chansons se font plus militantes, plus politiques et les cassettes du groupe circulent discrètement dans tous les campements et villages touaregs. Parallèlement, un mouvement de rébellion revendiquant un statut d’autonomie, le droit à l’éducation et au développement, prend de plus en plus d’ampleur. Les frontières nationales arbitrairement tracées dans le désert au moment de la décolonisation, restent le problème majeur pour ce peuple écartelé sur plusieurs états. Tinariwen devient le chantre du mouvement. Sa renommée grandit, de Tombouctou à Tamanrasset.
En 2000, après une éclipse, le groupe renaît de ses cendres et démarre une carrière internationale grâce à une rencontre avec le groupe français Lo’jo. Aujourd’hui, les membres de Tinariwen oscillent entre tournées et vie de nomade dans le désert, Un grand écart entre deux mondes que tout oppose, salué aujourd’hui par la sortie d’un troisième album, «Imidiwan».

Une question de devoir

«Le choix d’enregistrer dans le désert a été fait pour avoir le son du désert, avec les parasites, le vent… Mais aussi pour retrouver notre inspiration dans un milieu naturel.» explique le charismatique Ibrahim, dans l’appartement parisien de l’un de ses amis. Ce grand bonhomme, faussement nonchalant, toujours un peu avec vous mais un peu ailleurs aussi, n’est pas franchement convaincu par l’exercice de l’interview. Il ne se sent d’ailleurs guère à sa place dans la capitale française, mais continue sa trajectoire de rock star malgré lui, par devoir envers sa communauté, son peuple.
Attirer coûte que coûte l’attention du plus grand nombre sur ce petit bout de désert, telle est désormais la mission de Tinariwen. Un petit bout de désert qui excite de plus en plus la convoitise des multinationales et des grandes puissances. Pétrole, uranium, soleil : sous le sable et les cailloux, toutes les énergies sont là, pour le plus grand malheur du peuple touareg… Un peu plus à l’Est dans le désert, la ville nigérienne d’Arlit est bien connue pour ses mines d’uranium à ciel ouvert exploitées sans grande considération pour la population locale. Dans la région de Kidal, la ville dont est originaire Tinariwen, de l’uranium a déjà été trouvé et des contrats établis avec une compagnie australienne… De quoi faire trembler «Il y a une énorme ignorance de ce qu’est l’uranium chez les touaregs. Beaucoup pensent que ce sont de simples cailloux. C’est cette partie de la population qui est utilisée pour l’exploitation des mines. Ceux qui connaissent les dangers de l’uranium ne sont pas consultés.» reprend Ibrahim.
Et même si Tinariwen ne parle pas explicitement de ces problèmes dans ses chansons, même s’ils ont désormais opté pour la poésie plutôt que pour le militantisme, ils continuent à jouer les ambassadeurs d’un peuple et d’une culture millénaire menacée. Leur souci de persévérer, d’intégrer des structures auxquelles ils ne comprennent rien, est une façon en soi de faire avancer leur cause. Comme le dit Justin Adams, arrangeur de leurs premiers albums, «Avec Tinariwen, c’est comme si j’avais découvert le centre, l’essence de toutes les musique africaines qui m’intéressaient jusque-là.  En plus, il y a leur engagement. Même sans comprendre un traître mot de tamashek, on peut sentir le sérieux de leur démarche. On pense évidemment à Bob Marley…».

Nostalgie et unité

Le nouvel album du groupe évite une fois encore les écueils dans lesquels d’autres seraient tombés: une production plus poussée, un « gros » son qui les propulserait au sommet des charts … Et l’on sent de suite que les treize chansons rassemblées ici ont été rodées au coin du feu. Tinariwen, groupe à géométrie variable par essence, a ouvert grand les portes de son studio mobile. Les femmes, avec leurs chants enjoués et leurs claquements de mains, viennent soutenir les sourdes complaintes d’Ibrahim, Hassan, Abdallah, Intidao … Certains «anciens » membres du groupe, sont aussi revenus. Ainsi Mohammed, dit Japonais, le temps d’un morceau, magnifique chanson sur les regrets, l’anxiété, le temps gâché. Ou Diara dont la guitare magique hante deux titres. Le rythme reste toujours réglé sur «le pas du chameau», mais les ambiances varient Selon les auteurs des morceaux. «C’est une question d’unité. Chacun des membres du groupe pourrait faire un album tout seul, Mais nous avons choisi d’être ensemble et chacun a sa place !»

Tinariwen, Imidiwan, AZ/Universal

The  best blues band in the world comes from the Sahara, not the Mississippi Delta.  WhenTinariwen’s Aman Iman: Water Is Life came out a few years ago, I found it soothing as a sirocco wind that had made its way from the Atlas Mountains to a Portofino cafe.  Imidiwan: Companions has a bit more grit to it.  The entire oasis comes out to sing in the background while the menfolk dig into these sinuous guitar lines that would make Buddy Guy and Hubert Sumlin reach for the axes, and scorpions skitter under palm trees.  Tuareg folks songs are a long way from Robert Johnson at the crossroads, but maybe not so far.  Maybe from Mali to the Okavango Delta is as far as it is from Chicago to Clarksville, Mississippi.  All I know is Imidiwan: Companions proves not everything that Gaddafi had his hand in turned out to be bad. (Yes, there is some limited truth to the rumor that the band formed from Muammar al-Gadaffi’s machinations against his Maliean neighbors.  It appears there really was this camp where soldiers trained, and at night they listened to desert blues around the campfire, and yeah, Tinariwen was the house band. Or so they say.) Under the sheltering sky, I can’t think of better music to listen to, and you can be sure that when Tulip Frenzy assembles its list of the 10 best albums of 2009, it won’t find ten others to push this one from the position it so richly deserves.  It might not find one.

I really hate the term “world music”. I mean not only is it terribly vague in its actual utility as a description of a distinct musical style, it’s also just reductive and condescending. It’s as if we in the West (and I’m assuming you’re Western here, if that is not the case then just ignore what I’m about to write) have taken the time to identify our music in terms of musical similarity and then just thrown everything else in a globby badly assembled amalgamated heap. It kind of reminds me of when I first moved here to Germany and was surprised/amused at the fact that there was a clearly demarcated “black” music section in my local music store… people had grouped music together on a purely non-musical basis, which is, in my opinion, utterly pointless and completely stupid.

This is why I yell at my computer.

When I recently purchased Tinariwen’s newest album, Imidiwan:Companions, I was appalled to see it listed under the genre “world music”. It’s comparable to buying a James Brown record and then seeing it listed under “earth sounds”; it’s a throwaway term and does nothing in the way of actually describing the music. There’s also the fact that if anything, Tinariwen’s brand of Tuareg desert-rock should be described as, forgive my corniness, “out-of-this-world music”… but I’m getting a bit ahead of myself.

You see Tinariwen, in Tamashek, means desert boys. As tempting as it is, I’m not going to try and romanticize the story of these desert boys with their guns, violence, rebellion, and amazing music. I’m also not going to give you a history lesson about the Tuareg region of Mali (although it’s actually really interesting and has everything to do with who Tinariwen are and the music they make). What I will say is that Imidiwan is not just a record. I know it’s cliché to say so, but this time I really mean it. Tinariwen aren’t making music to get girls, or to make money, or to be able to afford new Bentley, they’re doing it because it is what they do, it is the embodiment of their entire being. Their songs of political awakening, nomadic life, and desert nights, despite their delivery in traditional Tamashek, will resonate in the truest part of your soul. When I first heard Lulla with its souring chorus and uplifting, sparkling guitar, it was like a revelation, an appeal to the joy in my heart.The best part is that, althought Imidiwan is informed by the rythyms and melodies of traditional Tuareg music, you can still hear traces of Led Zepellin, or Jimi Hendrix or even Bob Marley. It’s an eclectic musical mix in the best sense of the word.

I really feel like it’s pointless for me to write more about how much I love this band (although it seems a pit paltry to call them that), and this music. Instead I’ll end with a bit written by Andy Morgan about the origins of Imidiwan:

“‘Imidiwan’ is one of those big Tamashek words, to which no single English word can ever do justice. Just like ‘Assouf’, the name which the Touareg themselves often give Tinariwen’s guitar style. ‘Assouf’ means the blues, loneliness, heartache, longing, homesickness, the darkness beyond the campfire. ‘Imidiwan’ means friends, companions, soul-brothers, fellow travellers.”

When you listen to this record, you feel as if you have been inducted into this Imidiwan along with the entire human race. You can only smile in the warm light of your communal campfire.

Lulla – Tinariwen

Ahimana – Tinariwen

Rumba, cumbia, rembetika…why stop at tangos and salsa? This week’s World of Music feautres ten new recordings along with a lot of favorites, in native song and dance styles from around the globe.

In his new recording Siwan, Norwegian pianist Jon Balke has assembled an international cast to imagine the sounds of ancient Andalusia and Morocco. We’ll hear the latest from blues nomads Tinariwen, the sweet voice of Cape Verde’s chanteuse Sara Tavares, and Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody worked over by Cubano stylists Rhythms Del Mundo. Curaçao’s Izaline Calister brings some warm island sounds to the show, and Mexico’s Lila Downs shakes things up with her 2008 Grammy-nominated release, Shake Away.

Unveiling the latest musical styles for fall, it’s World of Music with blues, jazz, poetry and roots every Monday on the Radiator, 3-5pm ET. Online, or at 105.9FM in Burlington, VT.

Widziałem tego lata mnóstwo zacnych koncertów, z kilku – na przykład Radiohead, Calexico i NoMeansNo – z bólem serca zrezygnowałem. Ale to trzech wymienionych poniżej będę najdłużej żałował. O pierwszym zapomniałem na śmierć, o dwóch pozostałych nie wiedziałem. Wiem, wstyd trochę, w końcu moja praca polega na tym, że wiem, co jest grane i w dodatku informuję innych. No, ale jeżeli organizator imprezy bardzo nie chce się wiadomością o niej ze światem podzielić, to co ja biedny poradzę?

1. Crazy World Of Arthur Brown w Dolinie Charlotty pod Słupskiem
Wiedziałem, że mają przyjechać, ale na śmierć zapomniałem. Albo nie, może wyparłem to z pamięci? Może podświadomie nie chciałem jechać? Bo czy blisko 70-letni Arthur Brown jest w stanie udźwignąć własną legendę? To nie blues, tu nie da się z godnością zestarzeć, tutaj trzeba spłonąć! No właśnie, czy Arthur wciąż płonie na scenie?
Nawiasem mówiąc, choć uwielbiam Crazy World Of Arthur Brown, zawsze wolałem go w mniej groteskowym, za to muzycznie ciekawszym Kingdom Come. Gdyby przyjeżdżał z Kingdom Come, na pewno nie zapomniałbym o koncercie.

2. Pere Ubu w Poznaniu
Opowieścią o tym koncercie torturował mnie Maciek Pilarczyk przez pół jarocińskiego festiwalu. Zemszczę się Chociaż dzisiaj Pere Ubu to właściwie solowy projekt Davida Thomasa i choć Poznań jest na innej półkuli, pojechałbym choćby po to, żeby potem przy kominku wnukom opowiadać. Bo święcie wierzę, że moje wnuki będą się interesowały rubieżami dwudziestowiecznego awangardowego rocka

3. Tinariwen w Lublinie
Od kiedy Chris Martin z Coldplay chlapnął w wywiadzie, że bez Tinariwen „Viva la Vida” nie byłaby taka fajna, na Zachodzie zapanował kult bluesmanów z Sahary. Uwielbiam takie sytuacje. Kiedy gwiazdy zamiast zawracać nam dupę swoim życiem erotycznym, albo wymądrzać się na tematy, które ich przerastają, wykorzystują swoją popularność, podsuwając fanom rzeczy wartościowe, które bez wsparcia celebrytów nigdy by się nie przebiły… No, ale ja nie o tym. Ja o tym, że koncert Tuaregów miał miejsce latem tego roku na lubelskim rynku i nie miałem o tym bladego pojęcia. Ktoś widział? Słyszał? Jak było?

Festival au 106 de Rouen : Le Club 106 du 7 au 22 Octobre

Le 106, comme d’habitude, nous propose une super programmation pour la nouvelle édition du 7 au 22 Octobre. Je vous conseille d’aller dans le point Agglo et de prendre un passe trois concerts pour 36€. Voici le programme du club 106 de cette année :

Mercredi 7 Octobre 20h au 106

le 106 Rouen

Napalm Death – Ultra vomit – Dee N Dee

Jeudi 8 Octobre 20h au 106

The Heavy – T Model Ford – Vidableu

Vendredi 9 Octobre 20h au 106

Vitalic – John Lord Fonda – The Micronauts…

Mardi 13 Octobre 20h au 106

Cocoon – Coeur de Pirate

Jeudi 15 Octobre 20h au 106

le 106 à Rouen

Tinariwen – Firewater – Tribal zone

Vendredi 16 Octobre 20h au 106

Twinkel brothers – Dubbin – Blackboard Jungle

Lundi 19 Octobre 20h au 106

The Virgins – Pony Pony Run Run

Mardi 20 Octobre 20h au 106

106 à Rouen

Beat Assailant – Zone Libre VS Casey and B. James

Mercredi 21 Octobre 20h au 106

Miossec – Sammy Decoster – Gurzuf

Jeudi 22 Octobre 20h au 106

Sliimy – Naive New Beaters – Signal Electrique