The Voices of Mali tour in November, 2000, marks Habib Koite's second and most extensive U.S. tour to date. We called him during a rare day off in Arcata, California.

AFROPOP WORLDWIDE: How is the tour going, Habib?

HABIB KOITE: This is a tour both magnificent and very tiring. Today we took 3 planes. We were in a lot of snow in Aspen. A LOT of snow. I have never seen that. No, no, no, no, no. I've seen snow in Switzerland. But this morning when we tried to leave, it was serious! It was my first time to see that.

AW: It's a real force of nature.

HK: Yes, yes. It's another nature. It's not the desert, eh? [LAUGHS]

AW: That's for sure. How's your new record coming along?

HK: It's almost finished. We are returning to Brussels to finish a few details. There are two songs that aren't written yet. But most of the music is recorded.

AW: Are you happy with it?

HK: Yes, very happy. It was difficult. I've never known difficulty like that in music. We really worked hard. We rented a house 120 km from Brussels, in the bush. We stayed a month there. Every day from 9:00 to 18:00, like a factory. And after the rehearsals, I worked alone--reading, rehearsing, listening. But happily, after all that, I began to believe at least a little, that it is possible to make records. [LAUGHS]

AW: You actually wrote songs from scratch in that house?

HK: Yes, yes. I've never written that way. I was writing four or five songs at a time. Normally, I stay with one song until it's finished, then I turn the page to the next one. But I discovered that I do have this capacity.

AW: When we visited you in February, you were working on at least one new song. How many did you have ready when you arrived in Brussels?

HK: There were a few that were pretty much ready--maybe four or five. Then there were others that I could play alone but hadn't arranged for the group. There were many ideas in my head, but to make these come out well, really, that took a lot of rehearsal in Brussels.

AW: So, what's new in this record?

HK: What I can say is that me and my musicians are really happy. This is the first time I have seen them so happy. The other times they were less happy. This time everybody expressed themselves. We don't know what the public will think. We re-recorded "Cigarette Abana." The part I sang in French is now in Spanish. And then the part in English--No more cigarette--stayed, and the Bambara part. But we played the music with the spirit of salsa. We were having fun. I wanted to play a cuatro. I gave money to someone who went to Cuba, but they came back saying that in Cuba they have the tres, not the cuatro. So I used a 12-string guitar. That gives a new sound. Also this time, I went deeper into the music of my own group, the Khasonke. I took another old song and changed it some.

Then there is a flute that comes in a little, a normal flute, and a children's flute, a nose flute. I used that on I think two songs.

AW: How important is tradition in your music?

HK: Tradition is the thing that makes us unique. This is what I have that makes my music special in comparison to what others can do. That's its importance.

AW: Do purists in Mali ever complain about the way you combine different traditions?

HK: Not to me. There is the reaction that I have made the Songhai more proud now. "Fatma" became a became a dance in nightclubs. So even the Songhai who wear neckties who are directors and bosses, they go into the bars and dance. And foreigners hear it and say, "What's that?" "Ah that's the takamba." They say that in Mali, the Songhai are proud. Now they say that I have made them still more proud.

AW: That's my impression of how people see you. I just wondered if any more conservative people get uncomfortable with mixing different ethnic styles.

HK: Maybe people think that and don't tell me, but no one has said that. What they say is, "Okay now you have sung for the Songhai. What about the Bobo? We too want to sit at your table." They invite me to their villages. Because there is lots of great Bobo music. You must come and spend a week in Bobo country and take some songs.

AW: Everybody wants to be included.

HK: That's a reality. I've had remarks like that. And I've had more intimate comments. It's not a matter of defending their side. They say, "You are the only one to do this kind of work." They want to encourage me. They say even though I am in Europe often, I must not change.

AW: The flip side of that is the way you have to transform or blend traditional music in order to make it accessible to people who aren't in that ethnic group.

HK: Sure. That's a reality. There was a moment like that in America with black music and then white musicians who played black music. There was a time when the big black musicians didn't have much success. But then white rock musicians came to play black music, mixed with their rock feeling and the music had lots of success. It's a phenomenon of making music understood by others. For example, if you take Bobo music. For me, it's one of the things I like most in Malian music. The songs, the rhythms. But in Mali, it's never really worked. Donanke Koita started, but he stayed in his corner. I don't know if it was a matter of imagination or of his means and instruments. In my case, with my guitar, I had a lot of music already--European music, American music. I knew the feeling of lots of music. I had guitar techniques, tunings. So maybe now my imagination, my ears were ready. It's not a kind of work you can be sure of. It's a matter of making people like something. You can never be sure about that. I'm never sure whether people are going to like what I do.

So someone else can play pure traditional music, but maybe when you put things together, one thing softens the other. For example, in Ali Farka Toure's music, you sense moments of pure traditional music. And then you will sense, for example when he plays "Amadrai," a feeling very close to the blues of John Lee Hooker. The two exist together. Then when he plays that music from the bush, you sense that he has moved in to Peul or Songhai music. So then you begin to reflect. Well John Lee Hooker descended from Africans, and then one thinks about the age of Ali Farka, about the time he grew up. What kind of music was in vogue in Africa? Ali has his period, and I too have my period. And now, I look at my young brother. Now something else is happening, something different from what I knew well between 1970 and 1985. Maybe people hear black American guitar in the music of Ali Farka Toure, but with differences. He amuses himself by playing what comes easily. He can adapt. He always defends himself by saying that his music comes from the African side. It's like that.

Many things are coming to me now, music, my career, many things in my life. Everyone's music is a synthesis of the things that are close to them. So I ask myself, what is close to a particular Malian ethnic music? You can find examples of things that come from outside, but that are somehow close to something from your country. You find something of yourself in something that is far from your culture. Then you can make a synthesis.

AW: Sometimes people say that it's all been done in African music now.

HK: That's not true. There is so much in Africa that we don't know yet.

AW: So let's get back to this tour. What have been some highlights for you?

HK: We celebrated Bonnie Raitt's birthday in Santa Barbara at a friend of Jackson Brown's. There was a complete sound system set up. Jackson's whole group played. Oumou's group. My group. In the house. Lots of wine. We had a really great night. We all played together. Then the next day we did the concert. I've been doing lots of workshops, in universities, with kids. I made my own concert in Santa Barbara. The place was full. Bonnie introduced me. Then in LA, she even played a little. Jackson was feeling a bit sick. But he came on stage to greet the people. With Bonnie, we had a good jam on "Foro Bana."

The other thing is that everywhere I've gone, I've been seeing people from Afropop. That has really touched me.

Find Habib Koite's Music in the Afropop Shop

Back to Top