If Malian music is one’s cup of tea, then vocalist-guitarist-bandleader Sidi Touré is likely to be a familiar name. He’s an award-winning specialist in his country’s multifaceted Songhaï Music, and on his new album Toubalbero he extends the bluesy trance-groove often present in his prior work with electric instrumentation. Blending tradition with freshness, Touré pushes without strain for new possibilities to infectious, life-affirming effect. The record is out now on double vinyl, compact disc, and digital through Thrill Jockey.
Even for folks who don’t know Sidi Touré, the surname just might ring a bell. The late Malian singer-guitarist Ali Farka Touré is of no relation however, though he has been described (along with Ibrahim Hamma Dicko) as a musical mentor to the subject of this review. But if not as world-renowned as Ali, long prior to making his first recording the younger Sidi was well-known at home as the singer of the Songhaï Stars, a regional orchestra based in his hometown of Gao.
The recipient of two Malian National Arts Awards for best singer, Touré is notably of Malian royal lineage, which makes his musical background quite unusual (but not unheard of, as the Afro-pop vocalist Salif Keita is also a Malian noble). Hoga was Touré’s debut, released back in 1996 by Stern’s Africa, and like Toubalbero, it features electric guitar. The appealing trance-blues atmosphere (derived from a style known as holley) and the use of African fiddle (described as both the Goje and Viol) helped to establish him outside of his home region, and yet the album sits in marked contrast to his subsequent work.
After a long break from recording, Touré reemerged in 2011 via Thrill Jockey with Sahel Folk. Credited to Sidi Touré and Friends, the album is the byproduct of an informal atmosphere, as the musicians gathered for tea and discussion and then recorded in a modest studio setup with acoustic instrumentation. It’s a fine LP, but the following year’s Koïma is livelier and more bluesy while retaining the same basic studio approach that shaped 2013’s even more rhythmically resonant Alafia.
A second, shorter break in recording activity might suggest that Toubalbero’s redirect toward amplification stemmed from a lengthy period of reflection, but the new disc’s contents were effectively foreshadowed by Baba Salah’s rousing guitar solo in Alafia’s “Ay Takamba : My Takamba.” What’s undeniable is that Toubalbero’s electro-acoustic blend is approached wholeheartedly, with opener “Hendjero Moulaye” an immediate grabber.
Lively as it flaunts an intricately layered groove, the song’s propulsion comes courtesy of bassist Baba Traoré and drummer Mamadou “Mandou” Kone. Electric guitarist Djadjé Traoré, N’Goni player Ousmane “Papou” Dagnon, and vocalist Babou Diallo fill out the sound, as the vocals, guitar and calabash of Sidi lead the way, and along with the vocal exchanges between Touré and the group (which are a recurring joy) there are two splendid solos, the first from the N’Goni (a traditional Malian guitar) and the second a sharp, short flurry of electricity.
The combination of rock-derived newness and tradition gets reinforced in “BK,” the title standing as an homage to Songhai musical legend Baba Belkatras. The energy of the song contrasts with the moments of warm calm in Touré’s singing (at other spots he’s lively with growls and tongue ululations) as Dagnon gives the N’Goni a workout. “Djirbi Mardjie” is less rhythmically urgent and yet no less powerful, with the brittle note cascades of the N’Goni a bit reminiscent of the Mbira (African thumb piano) and Traoré’s subsequent solo a spacy delight.
Thrill Jockey describes Touré’s counterparts here as “some of the most exciting new faces on the Malian music scene,” which I read as the troop being younger than the bandleader, and which I hear as a desire to imbue the music with the spirit of chance-taking. This could result in missteps without a sure hand in charge, but the title track highlights the savvy mix of maturity and youthfulness. “Tchirey” is a song by Sidi harkening back to 1984, and while it recalls Hoga a bit, the execution here is sharper, and with cool touches like the dub reggae-ish echo on the vocals.
Touré’s prior albums were cut in a tin-roofed studio in Bamako. Given this fact their fullness of sound is impressive, but Toubalbero was recorded in Studio Bogolan, which is ranked as one of the best in Mali (Ali Farka Touré recorded there, and so has Björk). This choice to go big is perceptible in the vocal depth of “Hannah,” though the mix by Jason Meagher insures against unnecessary sheen.
But clarity is abundant, and it only intensifies the seamless weaving of old and new throughout “Handaraïzo” and “Heyyeya,” the latter being a vocal showcase and a rhythm workout with some wicked raw guitar and glistening N’Goni as the icing. Upon consideration, all over Toubalbero is a rocking complexity that should turn on fans of prog, but combined with a leanness and litheness that will appeal to those who just want to move.
With “Sitiali Boubou,” those dubby effects return and bring along a touch of the African blues for which Touré has been noted. By the time “Kaoula” arrives, one might assume there are no surprises in store, but then here come the handclaps, and afterward “Tarzidet” rolls out the bass-fueled finale. It solidifies Toubalbero as an altogether successful advance in the artistry of Sidi Touré.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A-
