And it gets better. Kouyaté incorporates inspired collaborators here, from Fula flutist Ali Wague, to saxophonist Nicolas Gueret, and especially, guitar giant Djelimady Tounkara of the Super Rail Band, who plays on two tracks. Tounkara's flowing introduction to the album's opening track, "San Barana, (It's Raining)" sets the tone for the entire album with moody eloquence. The song meditates on the difficulties of being a woman in a polygamous household, and it's typical of the serious subject matter Kouyaté takes on, from child mortality, to war, betrayal, and divine justice. She also sings the sort of poetic praise song one expects from a griotte, but no other singer from this genre has produced such probing songs of social commentary, and this, as much as her august voice, distinguishes Kouyaté's work from her many musical peers.

As beautiful as it is, Kouyaté's music often communicates brooding and gravitas. From the agitated, cycling ngonis of "Gnanama," to the ritualistic chanting and water drums of "Kirin," and the dark, slow meditations of "Ibalan"--set off by what sounds like Indian classical violin--there is powerful a mood of reckoning here. Kouyaté names this album for the Bambara town where her mother was born, and she proudly delves into Bambara pentatonic music, another choice that sets her apart from other griottes.

One of the sweetest songs here, "Djanfa," uses the lyrical picking of two acoustic guitars--the Guinea sound--as the basis for its meditation on betrayal between lovers and spouses. Musically and lyrically, Kandia Kouyaté sets the standard for classic recordings of Manding traditional music, and this is her most mature and well-realized recording to date.

Contributed by: Banning Eyre for www.afropop.org