Artist:
Vieux Farka Touré
Title: Vieux Farka Touré
Label: World Village Music

Ali Farka Touré’s Unexpected Successor Renews Desert Blues: Vieux Farka Touré Releases Debut

Mali’s bluesman Ali Farka Touré has passed the torch onto his son Vieux Farka Touré, whose self-titled first album on World Village Music, features the final studio recordings of the older Touré before his death in March 2006. The album, which also features kora player Toumani Diabaté, draws heavily on the same blues-inflected North African desert traditions that Ali Farka Touré made famous on such albums as the Grammy-winning Ry Cooder collaboration Talking Timbuktu (World Circuit). Vieux’s debut pays musical homage to his father’s roots with familiar trancey guitar-work while incorporating new musical influences from reggae to rock. He will be singing many of these songs on his debut North American tour throughout the Northeast and Canada in early February.

“Here in Africa, he who teaches you in life, you will follow his path,” explains Vieux in his austere yet grounded way. “Our lives here in Mali are like that. Much of what I sing on the album was his wisdom, teachings that he passed down to me. As he neared the end of his life, I knew that the wisdom he imparted on me was important to spread.”
Vieux was not always the obvious successor to Ali’s musical legacy. It wasn’t until Ali had lost much of his movement to bone cancer, when Vieux’s recording was being made, that Ali realized just how musically adept Vieux had become. Growing up, Vieux played calabash (a unique-sounding dried gourd drum used in Mali) and other percussion, but his father didn’t want Vieux to face the same struggles he had as a musician and discouraged him from following the same path. The Touré family comes from a noble lineage in a land where musicians usually come from a musical caste. Ali went against his own family’s societal role to become a musician and suffered as a result: first toiling to make a living at home in Mali and then getting cheated by a French producer early in his career. The BBC reported that when he won his first Grammy award, Ali chose not to travel to the United States to collect his prize, saying: “I don’t know what a Grammy means but if someone has something for me, they can come and give it to me here in Niafunké, where I was singing when nobody knew me.”

Ali wanted his son to become a soldier. But Vieux secretly took up the guitar behind closed doors. He enrolled in the Arts Institute in Bamako, the same institution where Habib Koite and many other Malian musicians of note studied. When Ali realized Vieux was not going to give up on playing guitar, he enlisted his good friend Toumani Diabaté as Vieux’s advisor. When young North American producer Eric Herman of Modiba Productions expressed interest in recording Vieux he had to seek permission from Diabaté, the senior Touré, and other community elders. Once Diabaté and Touré heard Vieux’s initial recordings, they realized they had underestimated the younger Touré’s virtuosity. “Toumani looked shocked,” recalls Herman. “Vieux turned to me and said ‘See, nobody knows I can play music like this.’ I knew… and it didn’t seem to be a secret that he is a really dynamic guitarist. But among the elders who he needed to be respectful of, he was humble and hiding it.”

“Though my father initially resisted my playing music,” explains Vieux, “once he saw that it was truly my ambition and my calling, he was at my side…and he stayed there until the end.”

It’s not surprising that Vieux’s debut album is full of homages to his father, to other elders in his community, and to the people of Mali. That spirit is consistent with the musical tradition and the album strikes a gentle balance between tradition and innovation.

On “Sangaré,” Vieux honors Diadie Sangaré, a longtime friend and confidante of Ali Farka Touré. “My uncle Diadie Sangaré called me in the studio to let me know of a favor he had done for me,” Vieux explains. “Meanwhile, someone next to me bad-mouthed him, and that really angered me… and inspired me to write a song in his honor. I went outside with another guitarist and started working out a line and the song grew from there. We started recording it that same day.”

Another tradition that appears on many of the songs is the teaching of morals. “Africa is not like the West,” says Vieux. “People tell stories, seek their interests behind your back while smiling to your face. I wanted to discuss the hypocrisy in Africa and how people should beware of the results of their actions.”

While the lyrics of “Diallo” honor another “uncle” figure—Barrou Diallo, who played bass with Ali for many years—musically, the track captures the hand off between father and son, with call-and-response guitar solos between the two. “Tabara,” the other track featuring father and son, was written by Toumani Diabaté’s father, another nod of respect. “That was the first track Ali and Vieux recorded together,” remembers Herman, the record’s producer. “That was a completely historic and sublime moment for this musical tradition. Everyone in the studio felt the gravity of it. Ali is almost bleeding through his guitar. He’s one of those musicians that is very linguistic with his instrument. You could feel his pain and suffering.”

The album never strays from Vieux’s essential sound, but gives the listener a diversity of compelling yet accessible timbres. On the two instrumental duets with Toumani Diabaté, the virtuosity of his harp-like kora shows him at the peak of his playing to date. Both tracks were recorded in a single take. After their stunning performance on “Diabaté” (during which neither player could see each other), Toumani says, “Hey Vieux.” “Yeah, father?” responds Vieux from the other recording room. “That was pretty good,” Toumani replies. The two laugh together on this warm dialogue captured on the album.

Songs are peppered with Malian sounds. When he is not demonstrating his strength as a singer and guitarist in his own rite, Vieux expertly plays calabash throughout the album. Mamadou Fofana, from Toumani Diabaté’s band, plays the Guinea flute, an instrument which creates a unique sound when the player literally screams into the flute, and which has rarely been heard in the repertoire of Saharan guitar music. Hassey Sarré, known for his work with Afel Boucoum, plays the njarka, a traditional spike fiddle, on two songs. Tama (talking drum), ngoni (the banjo’s predecessor), and kourignan (scraper) keep the album rooted in tradition as well.

Two songs on the album especially push tradition in new directions. When Toumani Diabaté first listened to “Ana,” he heard the reggae element and encouraged Vieux to develop it further in that direction. The unique combination of Sonrai lyrics and the reggae up beat and horn section create an entry point for pop music fans. Meanwhile, “Courage” has a distinctly rock sound and gave producer Eric Herman, who wrote the song, the chance to pay his own homage back to the people of Mali. While the song may turn some heads, Vieux is convinced that it is an extension of the tradition from which he comes.

“Music is personal expression,” says Vieux. “Everyone has their own ideas and their way of doing things. No one can replicate what someone else has done. I am working to follow my father’s path, but that path continues into new areas. I am of a new generation, so there are things that inspire me in today’s world that I put in my music, just as he did in his time.”

Vieux Farka Touré is the only recording of father and son playing together. The recording sessions, which took place in the storied Studio Bogolan in Bamako, Mali, had an especially urgent feel to them as Ali was about to make his final trip to Paris for medical attention. Ali Farka Touré’s entourage literally carried him into the studio and placed a guitar in his lap. After forty-five minutes of playing, he was carried back out to his car and headed to the airport. Ali Farka Touré died a few months later back in Bamako. From his hospital bed, he played his son’s new recording for all his visitors, proudly telling them, “That’s my son! That’s me!” His son’s debut album truly represents the embodiment of a legend continued.
 
Fight Malaria
Vieux Farka Touré was produced by Modiba Productions www.modiba.net, a young production team dedicated to Africa's empowerment through its music. They are the creators of “ASAP—The Afrobeat Sudan Aid Project,” which has raised over $135,000 dollars for the refugees in Darfur, Sudan. 10% of proceeds from Vieux Farka Touré will be donated to Bee Sago, a UNICEF-affiliated organization, as part of Modiba's "Fight Malaria" campaign.  With Vieux's help, they hope to reach their goal of providing every pregnant woman and child in the Touré's home region of Niafunké with a treated mosquito net—the most effective preventative measure in the fight against malaria, Africa's leading cause of infant mortality. “Helping those in Niafunké is something very important to me,” says Vieux. “I want to be able to give back to my village. My father was always vigilant for Niafunké, and I feel it is my duty to continue his work. There are those in Niafunké that don’t have enough to eat, others don’t have medicine, and many children don’t get the chance to grow up because of malaria. If I can do something—if through my music and my album I can help others—that is a gift for us all. It is my privilege to help my people.”

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Artist:
La Cumbiamba eNeYé
Title: Marioneta
Label: Chonta Records

The Devilish Subtleties of Oud and Bass: Lebanese Composer Marcel Khalifé Savors Poetry Without Words

Goose Feathers from the Bronx and Musical Traditions of Remote Colombian Villages: New York’s La Cumbiamba eNeYé Transports Traditions

This is a story of why master musicians in Colombia are playing flutes made from Bronx goose feathers. It’s an account of rural people displaced by war and undervalued Afro-Colombian musical traditions finally coming to light. It’s the tale of New York-based ensemble La Cumbiamba eNeYé, whose new CD is called Marioneta (Chonta Records).
Martín Vejarano, co-founder of La Cumbiamba eNeYé, travels to remote parts of Colombia, some only reachable by boat, in search of lesser known rhythms and music of Afro-Colombia. While the African-influenced sounds of Cuba and Brazil have received exposure in North America, the Afro-Colombian grooves are still coming to light.

“Colombia is a very, very big country and it was difficult for people from a specific region to exchange information with people from others,” says Vejarano. “You had to travel to distant and remote places.” Furthermore, civil violence has preoccupied cultural life in Colombia. But there is renewed interest in Colombian music which is, in part, an unexpected positive by-product of the country’s ongoing internal armed conflict.
“War can lead to artistic blossoming,” reflects Vejarano, discussing the persistent turmoil and violence in many areas of Colombia. “That has happened in Bogotá because the city attracts people from all over the place who are displaced by the war. This gives us a chance to be together and listen to each other.” Rural newcomers to Colombia’s cities are introducing urban, institutionally trained musicians to their once isolated regional cultures, and often, as in Vejarano’s case, inspiring them to visit distant corners of the country to learn more. Many of the areas where music flourishes in Colombia are remote, separated from other regions by mountains, rivers, and dense forests.
Colombia’s two coasts—Caribbean and Pacific—have nourished dozens of musical traditions and given birth to some of the great musicians the world has come to associate with the country, such as singer Totó La Momposina, salsa star Joe Arroyo, and vallenato-inspired pop performer Carlos Vives. Flutes or gaitas, which native Colombians once used to elaborate on the calls of birds, combine with European brass instruments, such as the bombardino (euphonium), and the Pacific Coast’s rolling Afro-Colombian rhythm.

The gaita flute is made from a cactus, with a beeswax and charcoal powder mixture for the head, and a duck’s quill for a mouthpiece. “I make my gaitas myself,” says the New York-based Vejarano. “I haven’t been able to find a cactus here, so I bring the wood from Colombia. But I get my feather quills from Canada Geese in the Bronx, the last stop on the Six train at Pelham Bay Park. I collect them in the summer when they molt. When I went to Colombia two months ago, I brought as a present for my master: a bunch of feathers. They are making flutes with feathers from the Bronx now!”

La Cumbiamba eNeYé takes its name from the quintessential celebration of Colombia’s northwest coast, the cumbiamba, when local people gather in their finest clothes, build a bonfire, and dance the night away to live music. The beat that keeps partygoers moving lies at the heart of La Cumbiamba’s music and dynamic live performances. The group, whose core members came to New York from Colombia, got its start playing at outdoor venues around New York City, in the city’s parks, plazas and summer festivals, bringing the loose, celebratory spirit of a cumbiamba to the streets of the city. Yet the festivities have a deeper mission, one linked to the musical momentum building in Colombia itself. The Colombian music scene today, both inside of Colombia and in cosmopolitan centers like New York, is flourishing, with young musicians eager to forge a new identity for the country and put it on the musical map.
La Cumbiamba eNeYé’s music draws on musical encounters with traditional musicians from rural areas proficient in local music. For Marioneta, Vejarano went in search of musicians along the Pacific Coast, to remote villages where, he says, “The environment is overwhelming, and nature is so powerful.”

And so is the music. There, in the town of Guapi, Vejarano met three musicians he had been hoping to track down, Genaro, Pacho and Jayer Torres, who can be heard on Marioneta’s final bonus track. These hard-working farmers, whose powerful playing Vejarano likens to that of shamans, come from a musical family, a long chain of people who have been guarding the area’s traditions for generations. La Cumbiamba eNeYé works to capture the spirit of the masters the members have met and played with in Colombia, conveying their music’s sonic density and cultural variety. “Our goal is to represent the music of the coasts,” Vejarano explains. “We make the instruments, and we understand the rhythmic structure of the music. Our goal is not to imitate the masters but to communicate the power of the music in our own way.”

Much like the traditional masters who come to Bogotá or Cali fleeing local violence or seeking greater opportunities, La Cumbiamba eNeYé has found creative ways to bring tradition into a new context. The growing interest in La Cumbiamba and Colombian jazz and rock projects in New York has had a positive impact in Colombia. Along with feathers from Bronx geese, New York-based Colombians have brought an increased sense of pride and prestige back to Colombia, the idea that Colombian music has found an audience in New York. This provides further encouragement to musicians in Colombia, who often struggle with class-based prejudices against traditional music and economic hardship, to both push the boundaries and return to their roots.

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Artist:
Hazmat Modine
Title: Bahamut
Label: Barbès Records

Shipwrecks, Storms, and Surprise Encounters: The Unique and Soulful Sound of Africa in Central America

The Polymorphic Roots of Americana:
The New York Grit and Lost Instruments of Hazmat Modine


Hazmat Modine is a band of unwanted sounds, lost instruments, and cultural combinations that reflect the origins of the American musical soul. Their debut CD, Bahamut (released on August 29, 2006 by Barbès Records), explores the road not taken, simultaneously conjuring up the familiar, the otherworldly, and the invisible space between. And yet the defining theme of Hazmat is their accessibility as a celebratory band, not a cerebral one.
The band is led by two harmonica players, rounded out with tuba, drums, guitars and trumpet, and recruits guests appearing on lesser-known instruments such as the claviola (a strange free-reed instrument), cimbalom (a large hammered dulcimer of Eastern European origin), the contra-bass saxophone, and the sheng (Chinese mouth organ). One minute you might say they are Blues, and the next minute you might think Rocksteady or even Gypsy, but all along you will hear sounds oddly familiar, yet somehow from a time and place that never existed. Hazmat is not aiming for a nostalgic journey, nor a global mish-mosh of sounds. They are looking for authentic sonic communion. This is something the players feel happens best when they are not rigid about the forms of music they take on.

“If you want to be faithful to the music forms that made American music great,” proclaims Hazmat leader Wade Schuman, “you have to be faithful to what made it great, not to the music forms themselves. American music is, by its essence, music that comes out of the so-called melting pot of different cultures banging up against each other. And that was the creative aspect.”

Schuman points out that the first real Blues hit, “St. Louis Blues” by W.C. Handy, included a minor-key tango section. “That is one of the things that makes the song what it is,” says Schuman. He points to the significant influence of Latin and Caribbean music in the 1930s and the huge influx of immigrants into New York City. “There were few studios in Trinidad,” explains the harmonica-player, vocalist, and guitarist. “Most Calypso musicians were recording in New York, so many of the early Calypso recordings were related in some way to America. The point is that we live in a nostalgic commodified world where we believe that Rock and Roll, or Bluegrass, or Dixieland are rigid music forms not influenced by outside factors. But that is not the history of how American music happened. It’s really quite dynamic, and based on a phenomenal cultural shift in the early part of the 20th century.”

At the same time, Schuman recognizes that regions of America each had their own local flavor. “Without television, and with limited national radio, things didn’t homogenize as fast,” Schuman theorizes. “Things would gestate in a lot of creative ways in different locations. Here in New York, there are these individual music scenes full of incredible musicians. And I do try to tap into all these different spheres.”

Hazmat’s band members come out of many idioms. Guitarist Pete Smith will often give a song a Cuban or Brazilian spin. Veteran tuba player Joseph Daley not only brings a wealth of knowledge from his work as an improvising artist, but is also respected as one of the country’s most creative “lower brass specialists.” Drummer Richard Huntley hops from Latin and Jazz to Klezmer, while Pamela Fleming uses her hot trumpet to bridge everything from the Swing era to soulful Reggae. Guitarist Michael Gomez, who plays every style from raggy finger-picking to Swing Jazz to Rock and Roll, also plays the Banjitar and the lap steel guitar.  While Schuman’s harmonica repertoire evolved out of Pre-War Blues and roots, Randy Weinstein draws on Chicago Blues, Jazz, and World Music.
Beyond its central role in the band, the harmonica is a metaphor for the music they play. The small diatonic harmonica was popularized in Germany as a folk instrument, almost a toy. It was sold in massive quantities and was affordable to American Southerners, both African-American and European-American. “They pulled from it things it was never meant to do,” explains Schuman. “Bending a note is an accident of physics, creating that glissando blue note. An instrument designed for one thing is used in a different way, and a new music form is invented for it.” The harmonica pictured on the cover of the CD is a real instrument from Schuman’s collection and offers a compelling visual metaphor for the band.

Hazmat Modine exploits a huge musical register and a wide range of instruments not usually played together. A unique musical palette is created by putting the tuba and rare contrabass saxophone—whose low range would be lost in most bands—next to the almost vocal-like sound of the harmonicas. Since there are only about 100 claviolas in existence, putting it next to anything creates a unique experience. Schuman and crew are masters of contrast, and explorers of timbre, but not at the expense of melody and groove.

“I saw some amazing musicians downtown the other night,” recalls Schuman. “Really incredible musicians. But it is so much work to listen to them. I want to seduce the audience. To not only make them feel good, but to move them!”

“There are certain things about American genres like Jazz, Blues, and Country, a certain simplicity and directness that I think are extremely moving and very, very hard to understand. They come from a deep place in the soul of America,” concludes Schuman. “That’s something you have to tap into.”

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