Samba Touré – Binga
Glitterbeat – 9 April 2021
When you listen to the music of the Sahara, West Africa, Mali, you cannot help but be drawn into the movement of it, the persistent rhythm of the desert blues, brought originally to my attention by Andy Kershaw all those decades ago and permanently ignited by Ensemble Toureg twenty years ago. Perhaps the biggest name in this style is Ali Farka Touré, whose desert blues brought much to global music and to the world of music.
Following in his footsteps, and at times cited as his successor, is Samba Touré. However whilst his music may be influenced by the late master, Samba Touré is very clearly his own man. Known for songs with a political edge, his albums have included tracks fired by the anger of the suffering in Mali and in his own land in particular. His latest release, Binga, is no different but perhaps there is a bit more reflection, a slightly more positive feeling about the fate of Mali, and contemplation about his own relationship with his homeland.
But the anger is still there. Atahar is a song about all the reasons why schools are not performing well. Despite Mali’s education system improving over the last decade, according to UNICEF, more than 2 million children aged between 5 and 17 do not go to school; for those that do, the impact of closures due to COVID 19 has been intense. The guitar line in Atahar has a lightness that belies the issues, suggesting the children, the future, whilst underneath the resounding bass drum creates a sense of somewhere between menace and resolve. The following track, Sambalama, is much more upbeat and despite all that is going on around him, Samba remains positive about the future. The strings of the ngoni played by Djimé Sissoko, form a regular constant to the song and a reminder of the constancy of life and the better days to come.
The intros to desert blues songs set you up, inspire you. They are only short and at times set to deceive, but then they seem to easily fall into a rhythm, a pulse and yes, here is that persistence again. In Kola Cissé as the song develops a call/response style of vocals gets underway. This is a homage to the late Kola Cissé, an important figure in the culture of Mali and as the Head of the Mali Football Association, he was significant in the growth of the sport in the country.
Amongst this collection of songs, there is one Instrumental. This is a classic desert blues, born out of a jam session at the end of recording the album. It is spontaneous yet packed with the history of the music genre, the history of the elements that fed into desert blues, the tunes of Saharan Africa and the Blues that came from the African slaves and their descendants. Here is a real sense of completeness, the circle that was forced apart has rejoined and moved on.
Samba, a member of the Songhoy people, grew up in an area that gave its name to the album: Binga. This choice of title clearly roots him to his place of birth and many of the tunes refer to this connection. Even though he left his home to move to the capital to follow his music, Samba knows that there was something magical about his upbringing in a village that perhaps is not only lost to him but also lost to future generations. In Fondo, a softer tune with a plaintiff harmonica by Richard Shanks, he sings about leaving the village for the big city, but finding a better life is never easy, and usually not all that it is expected to be. In Sambamila, Samba considers life in the villages now, compared to when he was a child. Then the pleasures were simple; now there is electricity and all that comes with it, but is there anything more? The guitar and the pulse are set against the backdrop of the calabash of Souleymane Kane and percussion, fitting in but creating yet more tension, indicative perhaps of the tensions that the modern world has brought to village life.
And, as if to reinforce that, Binga is about Samba and his home, the album is topped and tailed with two songs from the traditional Songhoy repertoire, Tamala celebrating life and times of the great Songhoy Empire, and Terey Kongo, a traveller admiring the beauty of Malian women.
Recorded during the summer of 2020, this album is the world today as Samba Touré sees it. His view is no doubt just the same as most of us: part lament for the past, part questioning the impact of modernisation on the soul as much as on the body, and all covered in a blanket of COVID-19. However, despite this is, Binga is also an album that is compelling, intriguing and wonderfully refreshing. Do dig to find the meaning of the lyrics, though the liner notes give you the necessary detail. Definitely look up the history of the Songhoy and Mali. Above all, play this – quite loud. Excellent.
Photo Credit: Karim Diarra