"Bassekou"

African instrumentalists have always had a harder time winning recognition than their vocalist counterparts.  Mali is home to some of the most amazing players in the world, but usually, it’s the singers who get the attention.  Toumani Diabaté (kora) was long the exception, joined more recently by Djelimady Tounkara (guitar).  This extraordinary debut should place ngoni maestro Bassekou Kouyate on that revered shortlist of African superstar pickers.  Having performed and recorded with Toumani and Djelimady, as well as Ali Farka Toure, Youssou N’Dour, Oumou Sangare, Habib Koite, Taj Mahal, Bela Fleck, Dee Dee Bridgewater, and countless Malian singers over the years, Basekou was certainly due his moment in the spotlight.  In fact, this is not the first time he has recorded under his own name.  It is, however, the first time that recording has made it to market, and the result is one of the best African releases of the year. 

The jeli ngoni—lute of the Mande griots—is typically a 4-string, spike lute, although some players favor the 7-string variant.  Bassekou’s group, Ngoni Ba, doesn’t add strings but rather players.  Most of the music is made by four ngonis playing together, including the large, bass-toned version of the instrument.  The sound of four, furiously picking lutes interweaving with deep rhythm and purpose over a bed of succinct percussion is a revelation.  As the pickers tear into the groove for the praise song “Bassekou,” even long-time Mali music fans could be excused for feeling they’ve never really heard what this instrument can do before.  Bassekou’s solos are explosive, but never overblown.  On “Ngonifola,” he gives his all, with clarity, playfulness, sharp ideas and phrasing that is nothing short of masterful.  On “Lament for Ali Farka,” he does all he can to make his inherently bright and cheerful instrument express melancholy.  Insiders in Mali have long pointed to Bassekou as the most innovative of the country’s many brilliant ngoni maestros.  Now the world can hear why.

Some noteworthy guests intersperse these 14 tracks.  Lobi Traore—like Bassekou, a denizen of Segu, the old capital of the 19^th century Bamana Empire—loans his distinctive voice and electric guitar sound to a version of his song “Banani.”  Lassana Diabaté plays balafon on the deeply swinging “Bala.”  (The song is about a Bamana war hero, not the wooden xylophone itself.)  And Zoumana Tereta sings with earthy gruffness and plays gloriously on his hoarse-hair soku fiddle on “Bala,” and the darkly regal “Mbowdi,” which describes a pre-battle feast at which soldiers from both sides drink and fraternize together!

While the ngoni is showcased, every song has at least some vocals, mostly by Basekou’s wife Amy Sacko and Ma Soumana.  In addition to Traore and Tereta, Kasse Mady Diabaté sings on two songs, proving once again that he possesses one of the most affecting male voices in contemporary jeliya—Mande griot music.  On “Juru Nani,” Kasse Mady spikes a poised, epic evocation of spiritual and literal battle.  Praise of military heroes is the stuff of much Bambara legend, and it pervades these lyrics, along with healthy doses of mysticism and the occult.  The bluesy, pentatonic scales favored in most of these Segu-oriented songs take on more grandeur than grit in this context, especially when topped with a voice as magnificently controlled as Kasse Mady’s.

While familiar griot melodies emerge on occasion, there is nothing rote or routine about the song selection and arranging here.  This is the work of a man who has thought long and hard about how to present his ancestral art in a new way.  Much more than a “project,” Ngoni Ba has the feel of a group for the ages.  May they live and play long.

Contributed by: Banning Eyre for www.afropop.org