Kasse Mady (1949-2018)

Yet another of my musical heroes has passed away, and once more too young. I still had high expectations from Kasse Mady Diabaté, who passed away in Bamako, Mali, this Friday (May 24, 2018) at the age of 69.

Kasse Mady was born in 1949 in Kela, a village 100 kilometres south of Bamako, upstream on the Niger river, and a village renowned for its djeli population and its proximity (only 8 km) to the village of Kangaba, which is seen as the craddle of Mande culture. Although born into a family with deep griot roots (his aunt was the great Siramori Diabaté, see this post) neither his father nor his mother were djeli (other than by birth), and Kasse Mady started out by helping his father, cutting grass for the horses. But even at a young age his voice stood out, and many started to compare him to his great grandfather Bintoufama Diabaté, nicknamed 'Kasse Mady'.
Still in his teens Kasse Mady builds up a reputation singing at weddings, baptisms and such, until he is asked to join the orchestre Super Mande from Kangaba, which subsequently participates in the first Biennale Artistique et Culturelle in 1970. A few years later he joins Les Maravillas de Mali, at a time when the orchestra is in a state of great unrest, after having been heavily censored by the new government of president Moussa Traoré. When the chef d'orchestre is replaced the name of the orchestra is changed to Badema National.
At Badema Kasse Mady is able to really make his mark, and he stays with the orchestra for 16 years, until he lured away by producer Ibrahima Sylla in 1989. He moves to Paris where Sylla produces his album "Fode".

I guess the first time I heard Kasse Mady sing was in the mid 1980s. I don't remember being very impressed, but this may have been due to the rather miserable quality of the cassettes (copies of copies of copies). This changed dramatically when I heard the song "Fode Nara", while visiting Bamako in 1988 (here is the actual recording; I missed the beginning..). I certainly wanted more of this.
Unfortunately there would be little more of Kasse Mady with Badema, as the public institutions responsible for the national orchestras disintegrated and musicians had to look elsewhere to find an income. Kasse Mady, like many others, moved to Paris.

Personally I think his album "Fode", (over)produced by Syllart, was a step backwards. Even today, after years of musical abuse from (especially) Paris-based productions, I still can't stand more than two minutes of this album. Fortunately the production was toned down a bit with the following album, "Koulandjan". While still very much a Parisian production, at least Kasse Mady gets a chance to shine. As the album title suggests, it contains a version of the Malinké classic "Koulandjan", for which Kasse Mady wanted to use the traditional version. He asked permission of the elders in Kela, which he received a few weeks later accompanied by a cassette explaining which parts of the epic song had to be included. The total length of the song including these lines would amount to 30 minutes. But Sylla stopped the recording after 13 minutes, much to the annoyance of Kasse Mady.

Kasse Mady went back to live in Mali in 1998.
In 2001 he was approached by Lucy Duran to record. Produced by Duran, the result is a mature album which set the tone for the albums which followed: strong songs selected from the Mande repertoire of Kela and Kangaba, mixed with a few excursions into other areas.

I am not going to review all the albums Kasse Mady has released. I would, instead, like to share a small selection of his work with you. You can either listen to or download the mix here:
.
Alternately you can download the tracks of this mix here: Kasse Mady in memoriam

Also, I would like to share with you this cassette, which was recorded (and produced) in Mali. It is undated, but my guess is that the cassette was recorded in the late 1990s.
IC 0497

As I mentioned, I had high hopes for Kasse Mady. I would have loved to have seen him with a revival of Badema, slowly rocking his shoulders to the rhythm of the music....

Foundation

I am well aware that it has been over a year since the last post on this blog. I hope to change this in 2018, but am making no promises. Fortunately others are still going strong or have in the last year returned to blogging.
Besides the usual subjects (the work of Franco and his O.K. Jazz, music from Mali and such) I hope to share some traditional music with you in the year which has just started.

But first a post about a cassette which has resurfaced occasionally in the last two decades since I copied it from my friend Faas. A cassette which has intrigued me because of its rare mix of traditional and modern elements. The cassette is by the Ensemble Instrumental Raoul Follereau de Bamako, an ensemble which I have been unable to trace in Mali and which none of the artists I have spoken to (in the past) have ever heard of. That is one of the intriguing elements...

It doesn't take too much imagination to figure out that there must be a link to the Fondation Raoul Follereau. This assertion is backed up by the first track on the B-side, which is about this journalist, writer and welldoer of French origin. Raoul Follereau, who died in 1977, is best known for his struggle against leprosy and poverty. He did not created the foundation which carries his name (this was founded 7 years after his death), but did inspire its foundation. The man appears to have been inspired in turn by Charles de Foucauld*, although perhaps I should write that he used Foucauld for his personal objectives. And these were - in retrospect - not as elevated and pure as the creation of a foundation in his name may suggest, - or as they may have seemed at the time. Follereau founded the Fondations Charles de Foucauld in order to rebuild the French church of the Sahara ("reconstruire l'Église française du Sahara"). The key words in this are "french" and "church", for - very much in the spirit of the 1930s - nationalism and christianity were very much part of Follereau's philosophy. In 1927 he had created "la Ligue de l’Union latine", "destinée à défendre la civilisation chrétienne contre tous les paganismes et toutes les barbaries" (to defend christian civilisation against paganism and barbarism). Of course (and like present-day nationalistic movements) the superiority of the own, national culture was not in dispute.

Follereau went as far as to join forces with all those willing to fight the "complot judéo-maçonnique", openly praising Mussolini and supporting the Vichy regime during WWII.
Although this may have nothing to do with the work of the Fondation, it does perhaps raise some questions about the motives of the organisation. The French have always had a tendency to promote their way of thinking, under the guise of 'francophonie' or 'collaboration'. And it is surprising how little this has done to really help the countries and societies which were the target of French aide.

Back to the cassette.
The cassette was released in 1993, i.e. five years after the last 'old style' Biennale. Still the music does evoke memories of these great events, which coincidentally were relaunched last week in Bamako (although apparently not everyone agreed that this was the right moment to do so).
Particularly the chorus reminds me of the great choruses I have seen and heard. What I find refreshing with these choruses is the lack of pretence. Although the girls all sings in unison, they still create the impression of being an unruly (but happy) group of individuals. Most of the instruments accompanying the girls are those one would expect with an ensemble instrumental from Mali: kora, balafon, flutes, bolon, drums.
The twist is in the addition of an electric guitar. And what a nice guitar it is. This is the kind of guitar one would occasionally hear with a djeli, or with Abdoulaye Diabaté: plenty of reverb and smooth as silk.

This is nice music to dream away, to glide smoothly into the new year.
Happy New Year.

Ensemble Instrumental Raoul Follereau de Bamako(AFR 001, 1993)


* for those who can read French: the entry in the French wikipedia is much more elaborate.

In control

A few posts to round off this disappointing year...
In the first of these I would like to share with you a cassette by Hawa Dramé. Hopefully you have seen (and perhaps even watched) the videos I posted some time ago (here and here). More persistent fans of the classics of Malian music may have even listened to the two (1 & 2) cassettes I have shared*.
This cassette is different from those two cassettes in so far that I strongly suspect the recordings on this cassette were all made in a studio. Consequently the sound is more refined, even to the point where it can be called 'delicate'.

This cassette is linked to strong personal memories of my travels in Mali in the late 1980s. Particularly in the town and region of Ségou this cassette could be heard on almost every street corner, and even in the taxis-brousse. Listening to songs like "Tunkan Te Dambe Do" I can almost taste the red dust again...

The songs in this cassette are all deeply rooted in the bambara musical tradition. One may be tempted to call this music 'simple', - but this doesn't do justice to Hawa Dramé's brilliant performance.
Take the first song on the B-side for example, "Klawa". The song starts off with a ngoni, which is joined by a second ngoni. Hawa opens after 40 seconds, careful at first; but soon she is in total control. This is her song.
The same can be said for all the songs on this cassette.

This is one of these cassettes which can last you a lifetime. I still discover 'new' things in the songs, and find that my reaction to the music varies with age, mood, circumstances. I particularly like the dynamics in these recordings: Hawa Dramé does not go full-blast all the time, but demonstrates that she stay in control in the wonderfully delicate and subtle parts of her songs too.

SYL 8331

* and if you haven't I strongly advise you to do so...

Tempo

'Tempus fugit', often translated as 'time flies', actually means 'time escapes'. This is how I experience the passing of time; it rushes on and I am running after it trying to catch up.
In this post I would like to share with you a video, which I recorded in 2011 and which I have been meaning to post on this blog ever since. But time has been escaping me, and we are now in 2015.

The recording was made in October 2011, in a bar called Le Tempo in central Bamako. And the name seems very fitting for the music which was performed by a group of clearly seasoned musicians. For walking into the bar was like walking into a time machine, and being transported to the early 1970s.
And perhaps even to a different place. For this music reminded me of legendary artists like Dexter Johnson, Laba Sosseh, Idy Diop, Papa and Mar Seck. Music with a strong Latin or Cuban flavour, hot and languid. Languid in a positive sense: with the ease that comes from an inherited understanding, and not from fanatic practice.

Unfortunately the sound is slighty distorted, but it should give you an idea of the almost unreal quality of this orchestra. The flute player would fit in easily with any top Cuban orchestra. Unfortunately I did not have time to go back and find out who he is, but this man is topnotch. The vocals in these two cleverly linked songs are superb. The harmonies in "Que Humanidad" (the first if the two) are in my opinion better than in Johnny Pacheco's original from the mid-1960s, particularly for the despondent tone. The second song, "Oriente", does not surpass the original, but this is not surprising as the original is by the immortal Cheo Marquetti* when he was singing with Chappottin y sus Estrellas, at a time when they were - rightly - at the top of their fame. But the Tempo band still manages to give the song its own feeling.



Out of character and emphasising that I am not going to be making a habit of this, I would like to add that if you like this 'genre' I can recommend the releases by Terangabeat, noteably those of Idrissa (Idy) Diop, Mar Seck and Dexter Johnson, despite the fact that I get the impression that in 'restoring' the original they may have in some cases overshot the mark.

Returning to the music of Mali: a lot has been written about the Latin influence into the music of the Malian orchestras. While I am inclined to believe that this influence is being overstated, it does not mean there was no influence. Apart from a few musicians who went to, visited or even studied in Cuba (such as Boncana Maiga, who can been seen nowadays presenting a rather unfortunate weekly magazine on modern African music on the French TV5), Mali also went through a Latin 'wave', - as did most countries in Africa, Europe and the Americas**. Often records from the GV-series on the HMV-label (from the 1950s) are cited as a major influence on West African music, but I have my doubts about this. This series contained mainly Cuban son music, and little of this music remains in the West African music of either the 1950s or 1960s. I suspect Mali went along with the worldwide craze in the 1960s.

I had heard from several musicians that there had been orchestras in the era of Modibo Keita which combined Latin with Malian, and even French music. But for decades this music seemed to have been lost in the mist of time (as is the case with far too much music in the African continent). But fortunately Florent Mazzoleni managed to dig up this cassette, which I would like to share with you here. The cassette contains no information apart from the title of the orchestra: Askia Jazz.

This orchestra was reputedly founded in 1960, in the wake of Mali's independence, by pupils of the Lycée Askia Modibo in Bamako. Several musicians claim to have started in this orchestra, but one member who has been confirmed by several sources is the legendary sax player Harouna Barry. I am not quite sure which instrument Harouna Barry played with Askia Jazz, but reports suggest it was not the saxophone, as he only took up playing this instruments years later. He only stayed with Askia Jazz for a few years before moving to Gao, where he worked as teacher. In the mid-1970s he joined Boncana Maiga in Les Maravillas. And ten years later, in the mid-1980s, he was the leader of the Ensemble Instrumental National du Mali before becoming the chef d'orchestre of National Badèma. He remained in this position until his retirement in 2001. Harouna Barry passed away in January 2008.

Other members included Mohamed Cheick Tabouré, who - according to this article - stated that the creation of Askia Jazz was made possible by using the money from the deposits which student had to pay when they joined the Lycée. This money was used to buy instruments in Abidjan. The example of the Lycée Askia Modibo was soon followed by other schools in Bamako.
Tabouré, by the way, is in the news in Mali with some regularity as a leading member and spokesperson of le Mouvement Populaire du 22 mars, which was created to support the plotters of the coup d'état of March 2012.

As per usual I am open to any suggestions with regard to the titles of the 16 songs of this cassette. I have added my suggestions, - but they are just that: suggestions.

Askia Jazz du Lycée Askia Modibo

Many thanks to Florent Mazzoleni for filling in this bit of musical history from Mali!

* but what is surprising is the fact that Marquetti, born in the Occidente of Cuba (Alquízar), should be so melancholic about the Oriente.
** even in the Netherlands we had a spell a Latin madness. I particularly remember this frisky chachacha from my youth.

Apologies

Apologies for the image quality of these three videos. But certainly not for the music. The videos have in common, besides the fact that they all feature great artists from Mali, that they are all too good not to share.
The drive, the passion and the unadulterated fun of the Ambassadeurs, the refined dancing combined with the brilliant vocals by Alou Fané and Flani Sangaré plus the unique talent of Zani Diabaté, the soul-piercing singing by Mah Damba backed by her late husband Mamaye Kouyaté: they are hard to surpass.

More soon...

Moriba Kaba

In 1988 he was not one to push himself to the forefront. He hadn't been part of the European tours of the years before, so he was 'outside'.
Guitarist Mama Sissoko had moved himself in the limelight during the concerts in Holland, and - according to some - was rivalling for the position of leader of the orchestra, after the retirement of Amadou 'Armstrong' Bah. But sax player (and hunter) Mamadou Diarra better known as 'Blick' had filled that position, a logical choice given the historic focus on the horn section.
I had met with Toussaint Siané a few months before, and had been spotted by Amadou Bah when he was touring in Ségou on his Yamaha motorcycle while I was trying to get some money out of the bank.

Singer Papa Gaoussou Diarra I didn't meet until I saw Super Biton play at the Hotel GTM on November 19, 1988.

Both public and bandmembers addressed him as Papus, at the the time. Later on, after he had made three solo albums (one of these is posted here), he acquired the surname of "Pèkèlè", after one of his hit songs. But to me he will always be linked to the concert at the Hotel GTM.

A few days ago I received news that he has died on January 25, at the age of just 56.

By way of a tribute to Papus I would like to share with you the song that earned him a place in my list of best musical moments ever.
This song was the opening song of the concert at the Hotel GTM in Ségou. Technicians of Malian television were still installing their equipment to record a few songs, which were to be part of a celebratory emission for the (then) president Moussa Traoré. On guitar is, of course, Mama Sissoko, and the vocal in this Malinké classic is by Papa Gaoussou Diarra.

Moriba Kaba (flac)

Additionally here is a video of a song featuring Papa Diarra, recorded at the Institut Français in Bamako in October 2011. The sound is slightly overmodulated (sorry).

Rise of the machine

The other day I was reading about the potential threat of robots. Apparently even respected scientists like Stephen Hawking are warning against the rise of the machine. Here in the Netherlands there seem
to be opposing points of view, albeit by the same persons. Our present Dutch government, for example, sees technology as the main driving force behind the economy, while at the same warning against loss of jobs as a result of increased automation and computerisation. In the meantime millions (and more) are lost on computerisation projects failing.
I can imaging how this would lead to economic gain, in the same way that bombs and ammunition are a economically very profitable venture, - from the purely capitalistic point of view of the manufacturer at least (boom!! - and it's gone).

In my experience automation projects have a strong tendency to fail for one reason: the human factor. On the one hand suppliers of the automated solution are inclined to impose their wonderful 'technical advancements' on the future users, while on the other hand users are simply unable to visualise the end-result. Unfortunately this often leaves the suppliers to do whatever they want or see as "the best solution for the customer". The idea that the final product requires an intricate knowledge of technology does not occur to the supplier, while the user doesn't want to be caught out as a digital dunce. The balance between supplier and user is disturbed even further by present-day managers, for whom staff is mostly seen as a negative influence on profits and automation as the best way to correct this.

In music we have seen a similar move towards automation. The extreme exponents of this musical rise of the machine are the Tiësto's, Armin van Buurens and Afrojacks* of today. Skilled artists have been replaced by a single person mixing their music using machines.
The rise of the machine in music started way before the rise of computers. The relative innocent Solovox organ, introduced into African music in the mid-1950s, at least added a new sound. The same can be said for the organs used in the 1970s and 1980s. Generally they were used as an adornment and not as a replacement for other instruments and their players. That is: not until this was demanded by western producers.
Several musicians I talked to in the 1980s told me that there was always a limit to the number of persons they could take on a tour. So at a time when many musicians travelled outside Africa for the first time and became known to a western public, they often performed with reduced formations. This became more of an issue in the second half of the 1980s. Groups were more than often 'completed' by local artists or musicians; at first by countrymen of the imported performers, but later on by (at best) native professionals or (even) native amateurs.
This trend coincided with cuts on another level: the often impressive horn sections were replaced completely - you guessed - by machines.
One may argue that we were lucky to see artists in the first place. But let me refute this with this question: how would you feel if the horn section in a concerto by Mozart was replaced by a synthesizer?

Personally I have objected to the replacement of those lucious horn sections by the constipated sound of synthesizers since the late-1970s. And we were lucky to see the O.K. Jazz when they were still "Tout Puissant", to see Fela's Egypt '80 blowing us straight to heaven and back, to hear the suave harmonies of the horns of Super Biton, Les Ambassadeurs, Bembeya Jazz and all those orchestras that would be and are left amputated without the horns.
And the worst is: there is plenty of evidence that it must have been even better before! Listen to those marvels by the likes of E.T. Mensah, the Black Beats, Victor Olaiya, Balladins, Tambourinis... Listen to the uncontroled lunacy (but one that never stops bringing a huge grin to my face) of that trumpet player with Mbaraka Mwinshehe, to those blaring horns of Etoile de Dakar, to immortals like Dexter Johnson...
And I could go on.
I don't even want to start about the horn sections in other parts of the world. The two minutes of the horn section in this video just bring tears to my eyes.....

I am sure you are wondering where this is leading to. Perhaps you expect me to post the best horn sections in African music ever, much in the vein of the top 100 (or top 10, 2000 or any other number) lists that are prevalent at this time of the year**. If so, you are going to be disappointed.
For it is actually the machine I would like to focus on. The single man and his machine.

The decline of the one can precipitate the rise of the other. For as the large orchestras became too complicated to bring over, too expensive to maintain on tour, and subsequently - when horns were replaced by synths - too unlike their former selves, the appeal of the lone artist grew. Initially more for the tour organisers, who saw the single musician as less of a financial risk. And gradually also for the public, often with the aid of clever marketing. When the artist was actually supported by or part of a band or group, like for example Oumou Sangaré, Salif Keita, (perhaps to a lesser extent) Zani Diabaté or you name it, the name presented to the public would still be that of the artist, making the musicians supporting the artist interchangeable (and therefore less of an economic liability). This setup, although certainly beneficial for the 'stars' involved, at times led to frustration with the more conscientious artists. I remember Ali Farka Touré (an artist with a strong feeling of cultural inheritance) expressing his annoyance about not being able to bring a larger ensemble on tour. Having seen larger (and even large) ensembles in Mali I understand his frustration.

One group of musicians also benefited from this individualisation: the ones that already - and traditionally - were able to perform alone. For there was already a group of 'men with their machine'. Kora players like the great Batourou Sekou Kouyaté already were self-employed entrepreneurs, while at the same time being involved in large, medium-sized or petits ensembles. This flexibility came from their machine: the kora.

To accentuate the machine-like quality of the instrument I am not sharing a recording of the aforementioned Batourou Sekou, but one by the man who more than any other kora player managed to bring out the metal sound in the kora (and in his singing too, as you can hear in the album I posted before): Lalo Keba Dramé.

This album, released on the N'Dardisc label, has Dramé's versions of some of the Mandinka classics covered by many of his colleagues. Typically his versions are less laid-back, more energetic, if not at times even frantic. I haven't heard any recordings of Lalo Keba Dramé accompanying a female griot, and given the imposing style of his kora playing I can understand why.
This is a very individual album, in a very individual style.

N'Dardisc 33-13

As a special festive bonus I am adding this great video by Malian kora legend Sidiki Diabaté and his son Toumani. The son has become more famous than his father, particularly outside of Mali, but if you ask me not for the right reasons. Personally I am not a great fan of the cross-over, and least of all of kora players 'battling it out' with fading western instrumentalists in an attempt to enter into 'arty', commercially lucrative new-age circles. I do like his more modest, less pretentious work, both as a solo performer and with ensembles. But his father is of a different league and of a very different era in Malian music. An era in which the competition was fierce, and in which the influence of tradition was predominant.
As far as I can gather Sidiki is explaining - to host and presenter Zoumana Yoro Traoré and to the Malian public - the origin of his machine. A truely historic document.
Unfortunately I don't have the whole video, and it breaks off after 17'30.




* and the fact that I only know these Dutch dj's is only because they are presented in shows on Dutch TV as Dutch celebrities.
** I have no intention at all of ever contributing to this sort of madness. And not just because it is almost impossible to compare artists, performances and recordings, but also because my preferences vary immensely with my mood, with my environment, the time of day, the weather, the season, - and I could go on...

Sullen charm

I am hoping to share more memorable music with you before the end of this year. A year which has gone by too fast, and with too little focus on the good things in life. There is so much to catch up...

You may remember that lovely cassette by Malian singer Molobaly Traoré which I posted some five years ago. If you've missed it, please do yourself a favour and go back and listen to it. Listening to it again the other day I was immediately taken back to the dusty streets of Mali and particularly those of the Ségou region. Real music can do that.

That cassette is from the early days of Molobaly's career. A career that ended far too early, with her death in 2009.
The cassette I would like to share with you in this post is from a few years later. It is clear that some of the innocence which marked her earlier cassette - and which certainly added to its charm - has gone. But other elements have remained: the slight tendency towards sullenness, the faint air of gloom, the strong Bambara repertoire, - now even more accentuated by the use of the sokou (violin). There are no credits on the cassettes, but my guess is that it may well be Zoumana Tereta.

You may recognise the second track, "Laban Kasi". This is a version of a song from Ségou, also performed by 'Tasidoni' Karamoko Keita. "Diandjo", however, is not a version of the song with the same title by Hawa Dramé, although the subject of the song may be the same.

The title of the song "Dely Magnin" confuses me. I may be wrong, but I was under the impression that "dely" is "to pray". But a title "praying is wrong" seems somehow unlikely in a country like Mali. So perhaps it can also mean something else...

If you ask me this is a cassette has not lost its power over the last twenty-two years. In fact, in my personal ratings it has only grown in stature, - as Molobaly Traoré has grown with it. More of this late but great artist in a future post.

IK 010

Macki

I have added the last of the three songs I have of Fanta Damba No.2, recorded at the R.T.M. in Bamako in 1983 for the series "L'artiste et sa musique" presented by Zoumana Yoro Traoré (see the earlier post). Accompanying her were Bouba Sacko (guitar - also see here) and Moctar Koné. This song, "Macki", is really the first of the three.

Zoumana Yoro Traoré was a well-known presenter at the RTM. You may have seen him with the videos of Coumba Sidibé, Kandia Kouyaté, Ami Koita and others. Some ten years ago I heard he had moved to France; this was later confirmed by an article on MaliWeb, and by an article in which he was said to be living in bad conditions (little or no work, separated from his children/family). I am not sure if he has returned to Mali since.

So the order is:
1. "Macki", better known as "Maki" or "Maki-Tara".


2. "Duga" (or "Douga")


3. "Jajiri"

Unplugged

Salif Keita, Hertme July 6, 2014 (photo: Ineke Hardeman)

I was listening to some recordings of the performance of Les Ambassadeurs at the Afrika Festival in Hertme. I can't say I was very disappointed about missing that particular concert. I have never been a great fan of Salif Keita's European oeuvre, but it struck me that the gap between the recordings which made him famous in Africa and the almost parody in Hertme was getting too great.

So this short post is really about reinforcing my belief in Salif.

Stern's have recently released a compilation of tracks by Les Ambassadeurs du Motel de Bamako. Despite the fact that it adds little to what has been released before (notably on the two lp's on Sonafric), it is a pleasant release. It shows respect for the artists, which has been missing in many of the earlier re-releases. And it is just good to have these tracks together on two CD's.

The album I would like to share is from the beginning of the Abidjan 'episode' of Les Ambassadeurs. In 1979, a year after the release of "Mandjou", Salif and Manfila recorded two lp's, which nowadays would be labelled as "unplugged". I.e. the music is mainly acoustic. I have always thought that these were albums were inspired by the Épopée du Mandingue series released six years earlier on the Guinean Syliphone label. Salif himself has declared many times that he was a great admirer of Sory Kandia Kouyaté. This he already demonstrated on the albums with Les Ambassadeurs du Motel, by the choice of songs like "N'na", directly borrowed from Sory Kandia.
Salif lacks the 'belcanto' (and - luckily for him - the pompousness) of Sory Kandia, but adds a touch of street-wise popularity which his example lacked.

I love this album, and I love Salif Keita for making this album into a classic. In it Salif shows many shades (even more than 50...) of his vocal range. But I must add that it takes many hearings for the beauty of these songs to really open up. The expressiveness of "Djandjon" is balanced by the almost painful shyness of "Finzamba". What is lacking from the present-day Salif is best demonstrated in the last song "Wara-Mana": the intense, deep felt passion of his singing.

Please forgive the quality of the record.

BLP 5013 -- plus flac (until Oct 1!).

Lemon or lime

A few days ago I stumbled upon the video by Karamoko Keita which you can find at the bottom of this post. Although I was looking for something else I couldn't help but watch the whole video. The thing is, this man has got certain 'je-ne-sais-quoi' which really appeals to me. I like his singing style, which is old-school Bambara (pentatonic) without being mouldy. The quality of the video is slightly below poor to hopeless, but just watching the movement, both of Karamoko himself and the chorus in the background, makes me irrationally happy.

I first heard his music during one of my first visits to Mali in the 1980s. To be honest, it was very difficult not to hear it because everybody was playing it, in the streets of Bamako and in every town and village I visited. The children were singing Karamoko's songs and their parents knew every single word of the lyrics.
They were playing this cassette, recorded for Malian radio, and here in the release of the Super Sound label of Monrovia, Liberia. You can see the first song, "Diama", in a video which I posted earlier.

This cassette just oozes old-style Malian music. And if you ask me it even oozes old-style Mali. I can't help but thinking of that friendly and hospitable people I encountered all over the country. People were curious without being nosey, warm without being pushy... They shared the little they had and demanded nothing in return. It was, in short, a country that was easy to fall in love with.
I know a lot has changed since those days, but I am sure these qualities are still there, perhaps hidden under a layer of cautiousness. A defence which may be the result of the invasion from neighbouring countries over the last decades, - or of the opening up to the modern world in general.

This is one of those cassettes with shifting favourites. All tracks are great, so it depends on moods, susceptability and environment which I prefer. When I first heard it it was "Lemourou". In hindsight I think this may have had to do with hearing this in the villages, where little girls were chanting it. I asked them what it meant and they contorted their faces. Later on someone told me it meant "citron" (lemon), but then I saw someone selling limes shouting "lemourou". My guess is it means both lemon and lime.

Super Sound SS-36

And, as mentioned above, here is another song from the same concert as the video I posted before. Karamoko with a somewhat larger ensemble and dancing, which adds an extra element of joy to his songs, if you ask me.

Fire

Perhaps you have been wondering why I haven't posted a eulogy to the late Taby Ley Rochereau. Or why I haven't commented on the death of Nelson Mandela. And what are my feelings at the death of prolific producer Ibrahima Sylla?
I certainly have opinions about all of these, but in the case of the first and the last this is not the time to express these. And in the case of Madiba: what can I add that has not already been written, by persons far more qualified, far more knowledgeable than me? I simply have nothing new to contribute to the overwhelming sorrow at the death of this inspirational human being.

And those who wondered if this blog had come to an untimely end, or if inspiration or motivation had run out, can rest assured that this is certainly not the case. I was merely getting overworked and simply had neither the time or the physical energy to sit down and spend time sharing the wonderful and ever amazing music of the African and latin continents. Inspiration, passion even - just listening to the music you will know that there is very little chance that this will go away.

In this post I would like to share a cassette by an artist who has featured in this blog before (here and here): Sali Sidibé.
Many of Sali's cassettes are among my favourites from Mali, and this is certainly one of those. It is a somewhat exceptional cassette in that Sali is accompanied not by a 'traditional' ensemble but by a modern orchestra. According to the guitarist Boubacar Diallo the orchestra consisted of members of National Badema (do yourself a favour and listen to their cassette if you have - erroneously - overlooked it). Going by the sound of the orchestra this seems very likely, although I have heard others claim that members of the Rail Band are actually accompanying this great singer from the Wassoulou district in the Sikasso region of Mali.

What makes this cassette really special is the authority with which Sali addresses the people of Mali. She does so talking, and this in itself is part of a long and very respected and respectable tradition in Mali. Ms. Sidibé is dishing out advice on all kinds of issues, and particularly issues which would concern those living in the more rural areas of Mali.
I particularly like her warnings against tasuma , i.e. fire, in the longest track on this cassette, "Anw Ka Jiri Turu". The song starts of with the sokou (probably Zoumana Tereta) imitating the sound of a fire-engine. In the opening line of her (spoken) message to the public Sali gets straight to the heart of the matter: "tasuma magninde" ("fire is no good"). She continues to point out the places where fire can present a serious risk.
In any other country this may sound like kicking in a space where no door has ever been. And I suppose to a lot of Malians too it does sound like she is stating the obvious. But this is also part of her role as a musician. She is confirming the obvious. Fire cán burn you, bush fires cán ruin lifes. So "tasuma maginde". Be careful with fire, think of the risk.

But even you have no idea where Sali Sidibé is talking and singing about this is simply a superb cassette with great music.

ASF 320

Dosoke Cery

With the holiday period over and business returning to normal I am hoping to find more time for this blog. Particularly I hope to post a few of the albums, cassettes and recordings I have promised in previous posts.

I would like to start with an album I referred to in a post more than two years ago. And I am not going to repeat what I wrote then, so this can be a short post.
This lp, recorded in Abidjan in 1979, is not my favourite by Djelimadi Tounkara and the Rail Band du Mali, but it does have some of my favourite tracks by the orchestra. I agree with Graeme Counsel (see my earlier post and Graeme's notes on his website) on "Dosoke Cery", but prefer the opening track of side A, "Koulandjan", to "Djiguiya". While the organ (played by Cheikh Tidiane Seck) is slightly irritating, particularly because of the thin sound, horns and guitars are nicely proportioned in this Malinké classic. Djelimadi himself (lead guitar) is great on all the tracks, and please also note the rhythm guitar, played with considerable flair and subtlety.
The singers on this album, Sekou Kanté and Sekou Kouyaté, are okay but not exceptional, and certainly not of the same level as Mory Kanté or Salif Keita. In songs like "Trio Mandingue" their harmony is a bit awkward and tends to create an atmosphere of sullen boredom.

As I mentioned I don't share the enthousiasm for the track "Djiguiya". This may have to do with Cheikh Tidiane Seck's dominant role in this song and my general aversion to 'funky tunes'.

To me the star of this album is the wonderful version of "Dosoke Cery". All the elements fall into place in this song. I write "version" because if you listen carefully you may hear the similarity between the melodic theme of this song and that of "Diabaté Zani" by the Super Djata Band. This theme is, of course, derived from the music of the hunters (donso); a line of stars of the donso ngoni music is mentioned*. "Dosoke Cery" is brilliantly understated and jubilant at the same time. The jubilation is provided by the superb interaction between rhythm and lead guitar, the understating is done by both organ and singer.
I am sure many of you won't agree, but I am of the opinion that the organ is superfluous and the song would be even better without it. The organ partially neutralises the tension generated by the two guitars and the vocal. Despite this critical note, "Dosoke Cery" is still a great song.

Disco Stock DS 7919

*for example Toumani Koné and Batoma Sanogo, both of whom will featuring in upcoming posts.

More videos

I have updated a few videos. First I have collected all I have of the programme "L'artiste et sa musique" featuring the (unfortunately late) queen of kamalen ngoni music Coumba Sidibé into one video:

This is really all I have of this absolutely legendary performance. But I am still hoping, of course, that one day someone will come up with more and/or in a better quality.

Secondly I have redigitised the video of Oumou Sangaré's song "Yayoroba", to which I was referring in the last post. And I have added a second song, which you will no doubt recognise as "Saya Magnin". The dancer I was referring to comes in at about 8'50...


And finally, as a bonus, I am adding a video of less than a minute of a rare version of "Djama Kaissoumou", a song which was one of Oumou's first hits and featured on the cassette which launched her into stardom. Again, it's all I have.....

Isn't that lovely?

Videos

This post is mostly intended to draw your attention to this remarkable video posted on YouTube by Ngoniba:


And if, like me, you can't get enough of these videos, please look around for more on Ngoniba's Youtube channel. Here is one to help you on your way.

The principle star of these videos is, of course, Mariam Bagayogo. You may remember the video I posted a few years ago. As I mentioned then, besides the singing and the balafons accompanying her I was particularly fascinated by the dancing. And, having watched Ngoniba's videos a few times, I am again fascinated by the intricate dancing in these videos.

It is no secret that dance is at the core of a lot of (if not most) music in Africa. When I first started interviewing Malian artists in the 1980s I was struck by the frequent use of the word "rythme" when they were talking about songs. It soon became clear to me that this was not accidental, but that rhythm and music are the same thing, or part of the same thing. And that rhythm also meant dance. Talking to Daouda 'Flani' Sangaré and Alou Fané, who had both been dancers with the Ballet National du Mali, I learnt that all the dances have a meaning, as does the rhythm. A dance can carry a message, like "I fancy you" or "I respect you", or can - for example - be used to underline the dancers' identity as part of a group, family, caste etcetera.

When it comes to dances there still are many misconceptions with the 'general public' in the western world. "African dances" often are seen as very exhuberant, with arms and legs flapping all over the place, and - preferably - with loud djembe drumming. Fortunately, most dances are not like this, and are actually very controlled and wonderfully subtle. I remind you of that fantastic dancer in the Oumou Sangaré video I posted earlier, or Alou Fané's delightfully understated dancing in this video.
The movements of the dances by Mariam Bagayogo also do not conform with the general idea of "african dances". Look at this video by Mariam from 1986 for example (another one from Ngoniba):

The flexing of the knees, the step: dance and music are one.

EDIT May 12, 2013: Ngoniba has sent me a link to a recent and very interesting article on Maliweb about Mariam Bagayoko. In this article she talks about her career and about her situation at the age of 70. Apparently she has taken over the care of the 17 children and 4 wives of two of her brothers who have passed away. Her message to Malian readers is that they should follow in the footsteps of their elders, i.e. respect the traditions.

EDIT September 22, 2013: I have had to remove the link to the article on Maliweb, as the site appears to be hacked.

Home-made

Completely off-topic: I have had to introduce a relatively mild form of moderation on the comments. What goes on in the warped minds of those sad individuals who think I will let them get away with link-ridden and mostly ill-conceived and shoddy mails, is completely beyond my imagination, - and I have no intention of finding out either.
Anyway, the moderation may result in a (hopefully short) delay in the publication of any comment you are still very welcome to make. And it is certainly possible that I will remove this form of censorship (and I am the first to admit it) in the future.

On topic: this post is primarily intended to inform you of a new, small-scale initiative. And I hasten to add that I am personally not at all involved, and do not stand to gain a single peso or eurocent. I am a consumer like yourself* and as such open to anything new.

You may remember that post of the wonderful record by Sali Sidibé, which Michael from Switzerland allowed me to share with you. Subsequently Michael has remained in contact. In September 2011 he mentioned he was going to Mali in December.
A few months later he reported back: "I collected some 130 tapes - in a few years you will not find it anymore..... I discovered Mouye Traoré, a nice Sali Sidibe being very young...., some Koni Coumaré with Bazoumana Sissoko, some old Toumani Koné.... some really hot Fula singers - and ngoni (= hoddu) - players I wasn't aware of before, some really good stuff....
And yes, I could make some recordings - Zoumana Téréta at the sokou (violin) together with 2 ngoni-griots being one of the more interesting ones - but also Daouda Dembele with his wife....
And Moudou Tounkara, one time with the smaller ngoni (irident) and one time with the base version of it... And another ngoni player Assana Gaucko, from Segou.. Some bambara balafoni from Segou.... as I payed the musicians, I've got the rights from them, and the recordings sound quite well....
So it has been more or less a ngoni-related travel, I even could buy a used instrument....."

Two months ago another mail: "I produced the CD of a recording I did with Zoumana Téréta, Hama Sissoko and Moudou Tounkara: "Juru nani fo".
I'm selling these to friends or lovers of african/malian music, therefore in no store; maybe this will come.
The benefit goes 100% to the musicians, which have been payed already for the recording in BKO.
Therefore, if you' re interested in a CD, which is professionally pressed (and not burned), I have to ask you 25 € for it, included shipping, etc.
And, as it's for the benefit of the artists, I don't want it to be shared in the internet."

He has since sent me the CD, which indeed has a very professional look about it (and in this respect beats quite a lot of CD's from commercial sources). The quality of the recordings, made on January 20, 2012 in a private house in the Magnambougou district of Bamako, is excellent. Apparently/audibly a small audience is present during the recording and this results in some feedback (talking, commenting) and in some 'background noises' (like cell-phones ringing, cutlery falling on the floor, doors closing). The music regularly breaks off and there are small interruptions for discussions between the musicians. Personally I love these kind of 'one-take' recordings (well actually I have a general preference for one-take recordings..). But I can imagine it is not for everyone.

Star of the show is - without a doubt - Zoumana Tereta, whom you may remember from an earlier post. You may remember I described Zou as a "survivor from another era". In this "Juru nani fo" he seems very much in his natural habitat, in the living room playing for a family. At the same time it is clear that he has evolved tremendously as an artist since my recordings in 1999.

So would I recommend this CD? Certainly. But it is not for everyone.

You can obtain the CD by sending an email to Michael: kabako[at]proimago.net.

As Michael has explicitly asked not to share any of the music I would instead like to share with you a cassette (from the 1980s) by an artist who will probably never be famous outside of Mali, but he was world-famous in Mali in the 1980s and 1990s. Not only did he do quite a few cassettes on local and regional historic heroes, he also talked about topical events, like a strike by lorry drivers.
And please note the "talked about", for Daouda Dembele does not sing, he is a rapper avant la lettre, a talking djeli. But I hastily add that both descriptions don't do justice to Daouda Dembele's rare talent. For he is, like Zoumana Tereta, a voice from the past, an echo from history. A 'raconteur' as there used to be many, in the time before television, and even before radio. A master of his art, who many Malians will remember from the time when they were sitting with their friends or family, sipping hot tea and listening attentively to his stories.

Please let me know if you want more.

Super Sound SS 15

*although I don't rule out the possibility that you are involved with the production side of music...

No.2

Another (short) post in the series of countermeasures.

With this magnificent video by Fanta Damba No.2 (recorded by the RTM in 1983) one can't help but thinking: if this is number two, what is number one going to be like?
For this is a real masterpiece.
From the very first note Fanta Damba goes straight for the jugular. And although she is accompanied by only two musicians it feels like there is a huge ensemble at work. Those two musicians are of the top league of Malian accompagnateurs: on ngoni Moriba Koita* Moctar Koné (see comments - his identity has not yet been confirmed, but it seems very likely this is him) and on guitar the ubiquitous Bouba Sacko, who you may remember from the Ami Koita video I posted not too long ago.

Fanta Damba's vocal power and the ease of her singing in this song is certainly a highlight in Malian music. When I rediscovered it a few days ago, going through a pile of video cassettes, I watched the full twenty minutes with open mouth, tears streaming down my cheeks.

The song is "Duga" ("vulture"), one of the oldest songs in Malian musical tradition. And although the song is often linked to the epics surrounding Da Monzon Diarra and the Bambara empire of Ségou, there are apparently also people who claim it is a Malinke classic. I recommend reading these - varied - explanations about the lyrics and origin of this song, which can be found here.

A remarkable moment at the beginning is when Fanta is rearranging her foulard; it is the first time I have seen presenter Zoumana Yoro Traoré laugh....



*I was initially sure I heard Zoumana Yoro mentioning Moriba Koita in his introduction of this song. But if you compare this video with the one of Ami Koita, you will have to agree that this is not the same ngoni player. If you have any idea about the surname of this Moctar, please let us know.

EDIT February 28, 2013: Flemming Harrev has sent me a scan of the back of the sleeve of Fanta Damba's record SP 005 which has a photo of Moctar (or Mocktar or Mouctar) Koné:
It's him in the video, don't you agree?

Topical

Usually I am not a great fan of these 'topical' records. My father used to have several of these, with subjects ranging from the first moon landing to the pope's visit to Ireland (recently posted on the Lola Vandaag blog). He had a very special way of boring the pants of visitors...
I must stress that I don't include songs about topical subjects in this category. I am particularly excluding all those great calypsos (either from Trinidad or from West Africa) about the Queen's visit or a local scandal, songs about a strike of lorry drivers, shipping accidents and other assorted disasters. In fact, I wish they would reinstate this tradition. We could have songs about Italian politics ("Bunga Bunga Benga"), about hurricanes ("The Sandy Shuffle"), scandals ("The Zagreb Conspiracy") and footballing incidents ("Christiano's header").

This said, I would also like to add this lp. And not so much because of the subject, the eighth African Nations Cup (Cameroon, 1972). Football matches tend to have a very limited 'shelf life'. I have recorded countless 'historic' matches, thinking they would make for a great evening in front of the telly after a tiring day at work. But I must admit that it just doesn't work like this. Football ('soccer' to you Yanks) is very much an on the spot event. The fiery emotions 'while events unfold' just can't be warmed up to be consumed later...
What really makes this record special is not the music of Manu Dibango. While recognising his importance for music in general I have never been a fan of his music, to be very honest. In fact, the music in this record is of the kind that I would gladly do without.

What does make this record special is the inclusions of the 'live' commentaries from the different participating countries. The commentary styles are varied, from the staccato of Boevi Lawson (Radio Togo), via the very disciplined and rather eloquent Malians Boubacar Kante and Salif Diarra (who even sportingly congratulates the opponents after his country loses the final), to the controlled but outrageous Joseph Gabio (Congo-Brazza). Joseph does not shun insults, both of players of his own country's team - when they 'allow' their Zairean neighbours to score a goal - and of a "cursed" Cameroonian player (also called Joseph) who misses in front of the Congolese goal. And I just love the over-the-top enthousiasm of the two Cameroonian reporters, with one of them announcing: "Ladies and gentlemen, the Cameroon boys are doing it!".
Which brings me to what is perhaps a challenge in the enjoyment of this record: apart from these few exclamations it is all in french.

Watching the CAN 2013 I have often thought of this record, and of the enthousiasm of the commentators. Unfortunately the lukewarm and misplaced arrogance of the European reporters tends to act as a real turnoff, even with the most spectacular matches.

African 360.036

Resilient

Actually I had planned to post some music by Thomas Mapfumo, but I am still trying to retrieve the title of one of the songs. So this will have to wait for a few days.

But it gives me an opportunity to share with you some more countermeasures in the struggle against the imminent oppression of the people of Mali.

It appears to me that matters have been complicated rather than resolved by the French decision to intervene. From a distance, it may seem like a good idea to send in the air force to bomb the sh*t out of those 'damn terrorists'. But will it work in a country the size of Mali? Anyone who has flown over Mali will agree that there are immense areas of 'much-of-the-same'. And attacking towns, villages and/or random groups of humans in the open field won't do much for French public relations, if you ask me. And I think the islamic rebels (and related insurgents¹) are not going to respond favourably to any French requests to stick around in one place, - and preferably away from populated areas...

It is not very hard to understand why the French have decided to 'come to the rescue'. As a former colonial power France has over the decades tried to keep some level of influence in its former colonies, with different degrees of success. Even in colonial times Mali was never at the center of French interest, and after independence Mali has done little to 'nurture' the ties. And French efforts to keep in touch have been half-hearted at best. Even before the fall of president Moussa Traoré in 1991 the French appeared to have given up on Mali, and since then others have stepped in, notably Chinese, Arabs and Libyans. These new friends proved to be more valuable and more effective than the French had been over all those seemingly countless years. The Arabs built hotels and a great bridge in the capital Bamako. The Chinese have set up projects to revive Malian agricultural capabilities². And the Libyans, or at least former president and 'our man' Muammar Gaddafi, they made themselves hugely popular by providing the (satellite) communication facilities that opened up the entire continent and can in a lot of ways be seen as the biggest revolution for ordinary Africans in the last century (if not in history..).

In the meantime too, it has become clear that Mali may have some economic possibilities. During French colonial rule the focus was mainly, if not exclusively on agriculture. The Office du Niger was set up to provide the French textile industry with raw material, - regardless of the effect the growing of cotton would have on the sparse arable soil. Since those days French governments have done little to ascertain the needs of Malians. In fact, subsequent French governments have done their utmost to retain a level of dependency of 'grand frère' France, particularly by the monetary system, while ignoring polite requests to really help out.

Personally I don't believe that altruistic motives play any part in the French attempts to intervene. Geo-political motives: yes. France wanting to restore its waning foothold in the African continent, after French pawns (like Houphouet-Boigny) in other former colonies have disappeared from the scene: yes. But 'coming to the rescue': nahhhh!

Please excuse my digression. I am awaiting reports 'from the frontline', but could not restrain myself any further. I have actually managed to control my urges slightly, as I haven't even started about the very dubious role of (who else but) the US in this issue.

Getting to the music I would like to share with you, you may ask what this music has to do with the present conflict. Well, this music is about the strenght and the resilience of the Malian people, and above of all of the women of Mali. During my visits to Mali I have experienced many many times that while the men talk, and claim to have the solution for all problems, the women are the ones that actually keep the country going. And I am sure that they will continue doing so come what may...
This resilience and this force of character can hardly be more apparent than with this singer, who already featured in an earlier post in this blog. For Ami Diarra not only had to overcome polio herself, but she managed to set her own handicap aside to help others.
This cassette is from the late 1980s or early 1990s, but I have heard that she is still active.

I am almost sure that the ensemble accompanying Ami is the same Ensemble Balemaya from Kayes as in the video, and it may even be that the recordings of the cassette and the video are the same.

SS 49


¹ More details on the conflict on the site of Al Jazeera.
² More about the Chinese in Mali in this article

Finesse

Recently the owner of the (highly recommended) Malian Divas channel on YouTube asked me why I have never posted any music by the third (see below) of those magic Malian divas of the 1980s: Ami Koita.
I admit I did not have a good answer, apart from that I just haven't got round to her.

But perhaps there is another, subconscious reason for my omission. I have met Ami Koita, when she visited the Netherlands in 1991.
On the LolaRadio blog you can find recordings made during this trip by VPRO Radio (and a few days later she also performed in "Reiziger in de muziek" on VPRO TV).
Both Ami Koita and her daughter, who backed her mother in the chorus, were very friendly. But it was impossible to talk to Ami more than a minute as her husband (on the left, holding a camera with which he videoed his wife's every move) was constantly making his presence known. And not only by standing in the background, but also by answering questions for his wife and physically putting himself between his wife and whoever wanted to talk to her.
I later found out that this was the result of an extreme case of jealousy, and several rumours have gone 'round in Mali as to the (possible) grounds for this jealousy.
One way or another, this has perhaps played a role in my apprecation of Ms. Koita.

Getting back to her being the third: the other two of what was like the 'holy trinity' in Malian divaness in the 1980s were of course Kandia Kouyaté and Tata Bambo Kouyaté. And that reminds me that I should be digging up some more of those two in the near future.

Anyway, I would like to share with you this cassette recorded in the late 1970s. The quality of the cassette is dubious, to say the least. And I have tried to remove the extreme hiss*.
But I love the music. Ami Koita's rendition of the classic "Tara" is up there with the very best. And Nene Daou and Lassana Sacko have probably donated their life savings after being immortalised by Ami.

S4307 cassette or S4307 (speed adjusted - see below)

And as a further illustration of Ami Koita's talent I would like to share with you this first part of a programme entitled "L'Artiste et Sa Musique" featuring Ami Koita "& son ensemble". And this ensemble consists of two great accompagnateurs: Moriba Koita and Bouba Sacko (see my earlier post). The show is presented by Zoumana Yoro Traoré, whom you may remember from the videos I posted by Kandia Kouyaté and Coumba Sidibé. I will post the remaining part of this programme at a later date. Ami is interpreting "Djeliya", a kind of metadata song, a song about griotism. Compared to Tata Bambo's song with the same title, which I have posted four years ago, you will have to agree that Ami's song is more delicate. Both her interpretation and appearance do justice to her reputation as the djeli with finesse.


P.S.: More to follow before the end of the year....

EDIT December 30, 2012: Ngoni has pointed out (see comments) that there may be a problem with the speed of this cassette. I have slowed down the recording to the speed he suggests, and it does sound better. So I have added a link to the slower version.

* And in case there is any demand for the 'raw' sound of the untampered original, send me an email.