How often do we listen to a song for the first time, either love it or hate at once, only to change our mind later on? Normally, critics rush into reviews as soon as an album comes out, but this time, I have decided to adopt the opposite attitude.

I have thus given myself enough time to reflect on the Touareg rocker’s new release. For a Tinariwen album is not to be taken lightly. And if the general atmosphere somewhat surprised me at first – and I weigh my words – I convinced myself to give it more time.

Therein lies the reason for this late review, in case some wondered.

The opening title “Imidiwan Ma Tenam” kicks off with these typical syncopated guitar riffs which have featured since the birth of the band, followed by an enchanting, almost dream-like, melody which progressively makes its way in. Thereby the US guitar virtuoso Nels Cline introduces a brand new dimension to Tinariwen’s music – an unfamiliar context for him.

If a manifest enthusiasm emerges from the first notes, too many of the following titles cannot really start the fire. “Imidiwan Win Sahara”, or “Tilliaden Osamnat”, are too reminiscent, almost excessively, of previous productions. Moreover, these songs are no longer part of this ensemble, whose synergy between strong and innovative melodies was representative of the band’s earlier success.

Indeed, some of those who had contributed to the Tinriwen’s musical richness through the years, such as Abdallah ag Alhousseyni and Wonou walet Sidati, have gone missing, which is a surprise. Most titles are almost exclusively the fruits of Ibrahim ag Alhabib’s work. The one who is still seen as a local hero for most of the Touareg community has not lost his great music writing skills, but in the end, Tassili turns out to sound like Ibrahim’s solo work. It globally lacks some diversity and hit-titles which could have driven this new piece.

However, a few goes at the album bring out a sort of charm, whose subtle character should not mask the actual beauty of the songs. Ibrahim takes up once more the assuf imagery, a typically Touareg notion evoking the nostalgia and solitude of the Saharan traveller. That might be the reason why Tinariwen relocated in Tassili for the recording, in southern Algeria, a region through which Ibrahim passed many times when many Touareg ishumars (unemployed) wandered around the desert. “Tameyawt” or “Iswegh Attay” thus evoke a both heavy and warm atmosphere, redolent of a campfire after a long journey.

But all is not about Ibrahim only. A few western artists make special appearances, yet another novelty. In addition to the abovementioned case of Nels Cline, the New-Yorker Tunde Adebimpe gets on the chorus of “Tenere Taqqim Tossam” while slipping soft vocal harmonies in “Walla Illa”. A little of New Orleans turns up thanks to The Dirty Dozen Brass Band that showcases their brass playing skills on “Tameyawt Ya Messinagh”. This produces an ingenious, if not breathtaking, result which will nevertheless make the purists of the genre turn pale.

Ultimately, the one whose presence has been deeply missed, Abdallah ag Alhousseyni, concludes the album on the closing track “Takest Tamidaret”. But the expectations might have been too high for this pleasant but eventually not so exciting song – perhaps like the album?

No one could accuse Tinariwen of making the same music over and over again. Despite highs and lows, Tassili stands as a quality piece of work. A certain lack of fusion between energy and finesse might disappoint but overall, the album offers compositions, sometimes innovative, sometimes redundant, but captivating as always.

An edited version of this article has been published in People With Voices

Nicolas Roux: Did you find enough energy to play at this rather unusual time?

Femi Kuti: It was difficult because normally we play at 10pm or midnight. And today we came straight from Lyon, driving 8 hours, and we went on stage right away. Yesterday’s show was also very energetic, I gave a lot. I thought I wouldn’t find the energy to play today and I was very worried but it came.

Nicolas: It definitely came and the crowd was very pleased I can assure you. You always seem to use the stage to convey messages. Do you see the stage as a tool of expression?

Femi: For me yes it is. It’s where I can express my life, my thoughts. The stage is my office.

Nicolas: After all these years, are you still angry against the system?

Femi: Yes very angry, but not in a violent way. Because I know that life can be peaceful, loveable and we can all be very happy. If people ceased to be greedy, corrupt and exploit society, life would be very easy. If the propaganda was positive, life would be good. But some people want to boss people around, to be rich, and to enslave. This is what is causing the problems. And when this is rampant in society, we have more crimes, drug and alcohol problems. Education is also problematic. You go to school, you come out of it and can’t get a job. Everything is wrong. If this mentality doesn’t change, life is going to become unlivable. And this makes me angry.

Nicolas: You’re from Nigeria, a country where resources have been exploited by international institutions and local politicians with very little redistribution. What do you think Nigerians and Africans in general need to do to turn things around?

Femi: It’s so simple. We need to stop being corrupt. We need to start thinking about our people and the future. We need to build for Africa. We need to make Africa the envy of the world. You see the Chinese are building China to make it the greatest nation. Americans built America to make it the greatest nation. Europeans have united because they want Europe to be the most powerful nation. It’s not working but that’s the objective. Africa must think the same way. It was Kwame Nkrumah’s idea: the unity of Africa. Africa must unite. We don’t have a road on which I can drive my car from Lagos to Johannesburg. Can you imagine a road from Lagos to Johannesburg? Can you imagine the beauty? Stopping in Nairobi, going through Zimbabwe. I can take my car and drive from France to Germany. The choice of scenery is so beautiful. I can stop here, eat there, park. I mean this is life. Life should be like this.

Nicolas: During the concert you urged people not to vote. Can you elaborate on that?

Femi: We need to send a very strong message to politicians. The message politicians send us is: if you don’t vote, it’s your fault for not using your power to change the government. But we have tried to change governments for over a hundred years and it doesn’t work. So their propaganda is a psychological one. But every time you vote, you thing the system is going to change, and every time you vote the system gets worse and more corrupt. So, why don’t we not vote and see what happens. Maybe if everybody doesn’t vote, politicians will have to become real. It is the only profession where you can get away with crime. If a doctor misuses his profession, he can’t practice. Nobody gets away with injustice except politicians and multinationals. And they always come up with excuses. They have been doing this for over a hundred years. Playing the big game always on the pretext of democracy, saying it’s a system for the people and by the people. But if it is really for the people and by the people, why are we all unhappy? If it was really for the people, then they should be making laws for the people and the people should be happy. It’s so obviously a hypocritical system so let us all not vote, let us just see what happens. Imaging how quiet it would be if nobody voted. We could be thinking of the real objective of the mankind: what we want of this life. I can tell you that we all want to be happy.

Nicolas: I’d really be curious to see that in my life time!

Femi: (Laughs) We can start! It might take time. I’ve never voted in my life. So when I see government mistreating people, I don’t feel bad about it. I can always say: I didn’t vote for you so get out of there! If you give them power, then it’s your fault for putting them there. Then you vote them out, and you vote for anther corrupt person who is even worse than the last one. We’ve been doing this since always. Look at the US: republicans, democrats, republicans, democrats and its just getting worse and worse. Look at England, Spain, etc. Tell me one country where it’s working. Nowhere. But I believe there can be a system of governance by the people, for the people

Nicolas: Your father Fela Kuti faced a lot of repression. Do you see yourself and musicians in general as political targets?

Femi: There are not many musicians who speak. My father did it because he believed in it, I do it because of my upbringing but you cannot force musicians to do it. And from my experience, I don’t see a love story that is more important than the suffering I see. When I have a broken heart, so what? Is that more important than children that can’t buy food? Or people that die because they don’t have medicine? So I choose to sing about these issues.

Nicolas: Your father said that music was the weapon of tomorrow. Have you ever reflected on that and do you think music can have a significant impact?

Femi: Music is having a significant impact. If people come to my concerts, it’s because they like the music and the message. But I don’t believe music is the only way forward but it’s definitely part of it. This music is for the matured mind. When you’re young it’s hard to understand this powerful music because people are fantasizing, they want love. But then you get to a stage in you life where you’re confronted with no job. And if you don’t have a job, there’s no love. And this is when this music becomes relevant for the matured person. Because then you start to understand Rwanda, Somalia, Congo, Nigeria, Greece, Portugal, Ireland, politics in England, in America. Your mind becomes enlightened. Then fantasy loses its importance. Real issues in life become important. So yes this music is a weapon of the future.

Photo credit by Julien Mignot

As soon as I entered the jam-packed venue, I could not help but sensing a general impression that a very unique event was about to take place. On stage were lying congas, piano, timpani, steel pans and of course a kora, a lute typically played by West African griots.

This quite varied instrumental panel, pertaining as much to West Africa and Europe as to the Caribbean, left totally open the musical direction of the night. A feeling of curiosity then emerged as the musicians kept the crowd waiting.

Saying that the wait was worth it might almost sound like a huge understatement. The blend of sounds and influence that came forth right from the start gave the impression a gigantic adventure throughout several continents.

Solos flew together seamlessly, the musicians improvised, responded to one another in a permanent dialogue where music became a means of expression. That’s what jazz can do.

The percussionist slightly stood out from the rest of the band. His sequences of beats accompanied with light dances fully captivated the audience’s attention; a well-deserved distinction.

On a personal level, I have to admit I’m not a usual fan of steel pans but not to fall in love with the instrument after that night would come close to being impossible. The melodies coming out of it simply released a widespread enthusiasm in the whole venue.

Where was the kora, some might think? Yakhouba Sissoko made it the driving force of the performance. The solos might have stayed slightly in the background, but its musical grace turned to be an ingredient inseparable from the performance’s success.

A few guests also featured during the night, including Jean-Philippe Rykiel, a well-established French musician who further illuminated the night with his usual subtle touch on the synthesizer.

In the end, it was just a great night that ended too early in spite of the late hour. The next concerts will be performed in Guyane for those of you who read me in this part of the world. Don’t miss out on this.

An edited version of this article has been published in People With Voices

It was their first performance in London since 2003. They didn’t disappoint, managing yet once again to galvanise their fans with sonorities coming right from North Africa.

ONB arrive before a relatively small crowd gathered in front of the stage. Dimmed blue lights provide a mystical ambience in which the band starts up. The slow and heavy beat of reggae-influenced “Chorfa” lightly builds up the pressure.

“Poulina” follows with a faster and livelier tempo than usual. The few stubborn fans who had remained sat have now invaded the dance floor. The party has kicked off.

The eleven members shake, bounce, and run like kids in the street of Algiers. If they play western instruments like guitars, synth and accordion, a southern wind also spreads in the venue under the shape of derbuka percussions, a plucked lute guembri or krakebs, a sort of North African castanet. That’s the very eclectic blend that has been the trademark of the group for years.

They offer a varied repertoire, performing songs from their earliest era through to more recent offerings. The audience sings along to the now classic “Salam” while swaying to the rhythm of newer titles such as the ska anthem “Chkoun” or “Sidi Yahia-Bnet Paris” and its Maghrebi-flavoured big beat. A good-humoured political message appears on “Résidence”, a tribute to African soldiers who fought for France only to be eventually left out.

Where they’re most skilful at is in their ability to drastically change atmospheres rapidly. A good hour into the show, the band transforms the venue in a gigantic traditional gnawa ceremony, immersing the whole crowd in a deep trance. The audience ends up a few moments later amid an old fashion ball in the streets of 19th century Paris, as they perform “La rose”.

They wrap up the show with a surprising cover of the Rolling Stones’ “Sympathy for the Devil” with a dash of Arabic singing.

ONB’s albums have always brought together a vast array of influences, which has been reproduced in tonight’s performance. “It reflects the cultures of every single member,” said Tewfik Mimouni, the keyboardist. “And there are things we’ve been hiding which might come out later!” We can only hope that we won’t have to wait another eight years to hear that.

See also the interview of two members: Tewfik Mimouni and Kamel Tenfiche.

An edited version of this article has been published on People With Voices

Making documentaries about the Touareg has become en vogue over the past few years. After takes on other music acts such as Tinariwen or Toumast, Bombino and his hometown of Agadez follow. In this new production, Wyman draws a parallel between the evolution of the political crisis in the region and the young musician’s life.

Rebellion has been part of the Touareg collective conscience for centuries. They have resisted the Arabic invasion, the French colonisers and more recently their oppressive government, which explains why they’re sometimes known as “Imazaghen,” the free people.

Music has become an art of resistance for them. It has also been used to raise awareness about the situation within their community and around the world. The documentary lays bare these two aspects of Touareg culture, while exposing Bombino’s tremendous skills throughout.

The artist’s background somewhat reflects the unfolding of political events. As a youngster, he had to flee the country to survive. He has since finally reunited with his hometown, as illustrated by an intense live performance amid a frenzied Agadez crowd. It is symbolic of the change of circumstances in the recent period. Musicians were once conveyors of violence but most talk about peace now and emphasise the importance of a democratic process.

If the documentary offers a great way to learn about the social malaise, it also sometimes falls close to the stereotype in the portrayal of the Touareg, as it hardly skims over the complexity of the factors involved in the political situation.

I would have liked to see a more personal approach and to learn more about the main protagonists. For those who have been regular followers of the Touareg scene, some moments will appear to be reminiscent of previously heard stories.

Agadez: The Music and the Rebellion remains an excellent, beautifully orchestrated piece. It will please not only music lovers but anyone interested in the paradoxes of our modern world.

Following his excellent debut, entitled Agamgam (Reaktion), Bombino has just released a second album, Agadez (Cumbancha). It has already reached top of the world music charts. Don’t miss out on this one!

An edited version of this article has been published on People With Voices.

The trailer:

The ishumars have been in the spotlight for the past thirty years. They appeared amid a social crisis in the Sahara, and were symbolic of a changing world where traditional nomadic life was no longer possible.

These new Touareg became semi-urban, they were mocked and pejoratively nicknamed “ishumars”, from the French word “chômeurs”. But they eventually adopted the term that turned into the trademark of a musical movement whose tool of expression is the guitar.

Tinariwen long remained as the sole representative of this music. But it has since grown and carried along the path numerous new artists. Ishumar 2 mirrors this dynamic. Emerging talents come in for historic bands such as Tinariwen or Terakaft.

Ibrahim Djo Experience kicks off with “Anchar”. If the guitar riff is redolent of classic Saharian rock, drums make their way in. The instrument is still under-represented in Touareg music and adds a slightly more powerful dimension to it. This is somewhat emblematic of the artistic direction of the compilation. The new wave of ishumars intends to push its music further. Using new elements then only appears necessary, even though the guitar still constitutes the base.

Varied and complementary styles are present throughout the twelve tracks. Amanar fires up with a touch of rap on “Aghafiat”. Kel Assouf calms the mood down with “Imidiwane”, where a delicate flute is soothed by a light calabash rhythm. Atri n’Assouf, in duet with Tartit’s singer Disco, also showcase their talent on a profound ode calling for the Touareg people’s unity (“Aitma”).

The Touareg love their blues too. Nabil Othmani thus seizes the opportunity to present “Edjmayegh s’emeli”. The young Algerian artist adapts the genre his own Touareg way, blending sonorities dear to the likes of John Lee Hooker or Ali Farka Touré. Definitely a peak of the album.

If the shadow of Tinariwen is felt from beginning to end, it is counter-balanced by a real desire to do something different. “Young artists’ relationship with Tinariwen is quite ambivalent,” says Sedryk, the producer of the project. “On the one hand, they show them an enormous respect but at the same time they want to prove they have their own style.”

Over the past few years, Reaktion music label has provided with surprising discoveries from the Sahara. Ishumar 2 remains in this vein and does not disappoint. These new Touareg guitars have shown all their potential. They now need to fully assert themselves and stand out from the great influence of their progenitors.

“The future, it means dying,” says an eighteen-year old boy. This comment sheds light to the tragic circumstances experienced by Kivu people’s lives.

Condition: Critical exposes the crisis through a series of striking photographs and stories that trace the full scope of events. Hundreds of thousands of people flee combats and must seek refuge in overcrowded camps. Rape, fear and death have been poisoning the whole province. Families are broken.

The origin of this conflict is quite complex. It links to former Zaïre president Mobutu’s policies, a neoliberal world dominated by multinational corporations and institutions that have been exploiting the region, and also colonialism. The Belgian colonists had accentuated some ethnic disparities, such as between Tutsis and Hutus, which reinforced animosity between peoples.

Because images are stronger than words, click here for this must-see documentary (available in several languages).

Photo credit by Kadir Van Lohuizen/Noor

It was the ideal moment for Osama bin Laden to come back to life and officially condemn France via an audio tape, for its acts against Muslims throughout the world. Is bin Laden the mastermind behind all the operations in the Sahara? A closer look at the situation will reveal a far more complex scenario.

First, who could possibly say for a fact that Osama bin Laden is alive? His occasional audio or video statements will certainly not provide a solid enough argument to prove it. But regardless of his actual existence, the name “Osama bin Laden” and the al-Qaeda brand have definitely proven to be useful for Western governments and radical organisations.

In some respects, Osama bin Laden bears resemblance to Amari Saifi “El Para”. He was a leader of the former Salafist Group for Preaching and Combat (SGPC), an Islamic militia that has now become AQIM. He was reported to have abducted 32 tourists in the Sahara in 2003, and he’s been officially sentenced to life prison since 2005. The similarity to bin Laden lies in his past, which is as ambiguous as bin Laden’s in terms of his engagement with official governments prior to becoming a “terrorist”. And like bin Laden, he appears and disappears when needed.

Bin Laden thus very conveniently came back under the spotlight of the media when France and the EU, as well as AQIM needed him most. For the former it’s given them a reason to adopt a strict attitude with regards to so-called terrorists while the latter can enlarge their credibility, thanks to support “from above”.

Does AQIM really have strong links to al-Qaeda? If we dig into AQIM’s genealogy, it emerges that the organisation’s roots are deeply embedded in Algerian history. It is the heir of the SGPC, and links to the Armed Islamic Group and the Islamic Salvation Front, both actors of the political unrest of the 90’s.

Al-Qaeda did not create the AQIM the same way it created the sister organisations that were, for instance, responsible for the terrorist wave in the UK and in Spain in 2005. Mohammad-Mahmoud Ould Mohamedou, former Foreign Affairs Minister of Mauritania, argued that AQIM actually tried hard to get closer to al-Qaeda for three years. Only in January 2007 was AQIM eventually dubbed al-Qaeda.

Two prominent and opposing figures of AQIM, Mokhtar ben Mokhtar and Abu Musab Abdel Wadoud also point directly to Algeria. Mokhtar ben Mokhtar, also known as “Mr Marlboro” for his cigarette trafficking business, saw his notoriety rise in the past for smuggling activities throughout the Sahara, while Abu Musab Abdel Wadoud was a member of the SGPC.

AQIM’s concerns seem more focused on the publicity side than the ideology. Political scientist Laurence Ammour, also consultant in international security, asserted that for these two bandits, the “AQIMisation” was a way to be spoken of in the media and get famous. Political justifications then appear to be mere excuses so they can claim more money for ransoms. In other words, AQIM is no more than a group of gangsters who simply use the djihad as a way to do their business.

When the seven Areva employees were kidnapped, no reference was made to the event in the three most recent messages from al-Qaeda according to Mohammad-Mahmoud Ould Mohamedou, which somewhat illustrates a lack of interest on the part of al-Qaeda.

Moreover Laurence Ammour added: “I don’t believe AQIM could possibly engage in terrorist act on French soil as they don’t have the necessary resources.”

Do AQIM and al-Qaeda represent a strong threat for Europe then? Many specialists and politicians say so. The recent bombs coming from Yemen, which have been intercepted in the UK and Dubaï might confirm that theory.

The ongoing war in Afghanistan will definitely not sweeten the situation too. But the fact that SITE, the US intelligence group, has recently reported it has found al-Qaeda responsibility claims simply on Internet forums doesn’t give much credibility to that story.

The Touareg, nomadic people who have lived in the Sahara for centuries find themselves in the middle of this scenario. The geopolitical context is very complex and involves many international interests. Some Western and Malian officials have claimed they are involved with AQIM, which is possible on an individual basis but certainly not as a community.

The social situation there is very bleak. Poverty is ubiquitous in the Sahara. Many Touareg have no job prospects. “Subcontracting” a kidnapping for AQIM may appear for some as an easy way to make quick money.

This situation clearly endangers their community. Jean Francois Bayart, director of the French National Centre of Scientific Research, wrote that common potential dangers from the outside could contribute to the creation of a unified consciousness. But the Touareg haven’t shown a sign of unity yet, continuing their century old tradition of division.

Read also: Oil, terror and social exclusion in the Sahara