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Rokia Traore: Concert Review
Zankel Hall, New York
October 16, 2004
Rokia Traore not only sold out Zankel Hall, Carnegie Hall's sublime new venue, but along with her seven piece band, she proved that hers is one of the most formidable stage acts in today's African music. It is impressive that Rokia has become so successful while making so few compromises to the mainstream music market. Her group sound is deep and authentic. There is no drum kit, only calabash, djembe and hand percussion. All the melodic interplay comes from two ngonis and one balafon. (Rokia picks up her acoustic guitar now and then, but generally to give the band a rest and coo out one of her moody ballads.) Some songs put the emphasis on percussive ngoni lines, while others feature the deep-toned eruptions of the Beledougou balafon. Occasionally, the bassist picks up an acoustic guitar, adding atmospherics with a wah--wah pedal. The band's roots sound is always offset by the cool, urban, girl-power Afro-soul of of Rokia and her shadowing, female harmony singer, Sylvia Laube. Incredibly, these two could sound like a whole choir at times.
It's this remarkable combination of ancient sounds and sophisticated, highly personal vocals that give Rokia's act its particular twist. The current tour marks Rokia's debut on the Nonesuch label. Her new, third release Bowmboï is diverse and impressive, but the fluid arrangements and extended jams in the band's concert show go far beyond it. In Zankel, one song shifted into another, and lengthy instrumental passages found Rokia winding her compact body through casual, highly idiosyncratic dance routines. The pacing was exquisite, seamless, perfectly timed to elicit roars of approval from the audience on those rare occasions when the music stopped.
Only in the blowout, 45-minute encore, did the instrumentalists get a chance to show their soloing chops. This group is all about mesh, ensemble sound, and even when Rokia lights into her softest, butterfly voice, that voice, not the music, remains the center of attention. The program at Zankel was far more upbeat than any of her three albums, providing ample opportunity for Rokia to unleash her angel's soul cry. On the livelier balafon numbers, the energy level was closer to the balafon boogie of Mali's Neba Solo than to the balladry on Rokia's albums. But the ease and lack of pretension with which Rokia carried all this off left no doubt that she was doing exactly what she wanted, in no way compromising her sound to the demands of the concert hall.
As long as the show was, Rokia and her band left a sold-out house at Zankel howling and whistling for more. I have written before that Salif Keita's current Malian band is the hottest thing going in today's live Afropop. But in their recent New York appearance, Salif's group was sounding a little ragged, perhaps even a tad stale after playing essentially the same show for over two years now. Salif, of course, explored about every sound you can think of before arriving at the idea of featuring traditional instruments in his band, something Rokia has done from the start. I do not mean to suggest that Rokia is a songwriter or musical visionary on Salif's level, but she's chosen her path and stuck with it and at Zankel last Saturday night, she demonstrated a quantum leap in her artistic evolution.
Contributed by: Banning Eyre
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