Israeli musician Idan Raichel shares the incredible story of jamming with Malian guitar virtuoso Vieux Farka Touré and uncovering a diamond.
Two years ago Vieux Farka Touré and Idan Raichel met in a rehearsal room in a south Tel Aviv recording studio simply to jam. Deciding it would make good archive material, they recorded the spontaneous three-hour session.
“There was something about this session that just brought out our love of music,” Raichel said during a recent phone interview.
A week later Jacob Edgar from Cumbancha Records contacted Raichel with the idea of turning the session recording into an album. Raichel initially hesitated at the thought of cutting down the 15- to 20-minute improvised melodies into album tracks. But after spending a few months listening to the recording, he realized it resembled an unpolished “diamond” and took on the task of producing the album.
Raichel’s work paid off in the form of 11 shining tracks. Under the name the Touré-Raichel Collective,The Tel Aviv Session was released on Cumbancha last week. The four musicians from the original session—Touré (guitar), Raichel (piano), Souleymane Kane (calabash), and Yossi Fine (bass)—form the core of this acoustic album. A select group of guest artists, including harmonica player Frédéric Yonnet and singer Cabra Casay, also lent their talent to the album.
“Vieux Farka Touré and I are very song- and production-oriented, so it was a very different experience for us,” Raichel said. “[But] The Tel Aviv Session album ended up as one of the most exciting works that I have ever done as a musician.”
During production, Raichel kept the album focused on the original 2010 session, especially the unrehearsed musical exchange between the artists and the overall atmosphere of the studio. Like on a jazz recording, the musicians take turns leading, and when they all play together they create shimmering cyclones of sound. An occasional breath or sigh even comes through on the recording. Listening, it is easy to imagine the excitement and connection between the musicians during the session.
“[With the album,] I tried to emphasize the best part of each musician,” Raichel said. “But the most important thing was still the communication between the four of us.”
There is a feeling of freedom and experimentation on the album, and even of heightened virtuosic ability. On the track “Bamba,” for example, Raichel plays glissandos and plucks the strings of the studio’s grand piano to create the sound of a West African kora. Touré’s dazzling finger work and tone especially come through on tracks like “Hawa” and “Ai Houde Bakoi.”
The guest musicians also add energy and texture to the album. Yonnet’s high-power harmonica playing on “Touré,” for example, shakes up the middle of the album, escalating the rhythm to a foot-stomping pace. And Mark Eliyahu’s haunting kamanche weaves in and out of the melody on “Alem,” until it fades away with Touré’s guitar and closes the album.
The Touré-Raichel Collective begins a two-week tour of the United States and Canada on Apr. 13. Tapping into the spirit of the 2010 session, they will improvise around the album’s tracks.
“What we will try to do onstage is not to play the album, but to play the idea of the album,” Raichel said.
The concerts, like the album, provide a unique opportunity to experience Touré and Raichel—two of the most talented musicians of their generation—come together in such a personal and open style of performing. And it creates an uncommon experience for the musicians too, like discovering a diamond.
“Special moments like the Tel Aviv session are very rare,” Raichel said. “And we are very lucky to have them.”
Join the tour on Twitter for backstage photos and insights from the road.
Salsa music simmered to life in New York City’s Puerto Rican neighborhoods in the 1960s and 70s: a blend of Cuban son, mambo, cha-cha-chá, and guaracha; a dash of Puerto Rican rhythms; and swirls of other musical ingredients.
New York’s early salsa era was one part popular craze, and one part urban cultural movement. Today, Beijing boasts salsa-themed nightclubs, Scotland hosts an annual salsa congress, and salsa music spills out of car windows on hot summer nights in California.
In short, salsa is now a global phenomenon.
A San Francisco Bay Area reader recently sent Apsara a list of his all-time favorite salsa ensembles and solo artists. His lifelong passion for salsa began several years ago in Bogotá, with Fania All Stars (a showcase ensemble of Fania Records artists) topping the list.
Our Latin Thing
The film Our Latin Thing recounts a famous 1971 Fania All-Stars concert held in New York’s now-defunct Cheetah disco, and features footage of East Harlem. Fania recently released a re-mastered 40th-anniversary edition of this musical time capsule.
Fania All-Stars launched the solo careers of many salsa legends, including the “Queen of Salsa” Celia Cruz. Originally from Cuba, Cruz’s impressive recording career spanned 50 years and lasted until close to her death in 2003.
Celia Cruz: “Guantanamera”
Other favorite solo artists from our reader’s list include:
Willie Colón (trombonist and singer): “Idilio,” “El Gran Varon,” “Gitana,” “Celos,” “Murga de Panama,” and “Calle Luna Calle Sol” from the album Greatest Hits
Henry Fiol (composer and singer): “Oriente,” “Ahora Me da Pena,” and “La Juma de Ayer” from Fe, Esperanza y Caridad
Larry Harlow (pianist): “El Paso de Encarnacion,” “La Cartera,” and “Abran Paso”
Pupi Legarreta (flutist and violinist): “Sabroso Como el Guarapo” and “El Niche” from Pa’ Bailar
Ismael Miranda (composer and singer): “Asi Se Compone Un Son” and “Maria Luisa” Eddie Palmieri (pianist): “Azucar,” “Vamonos Pal Monte,” “Puerto Rico,” and “Muñeca” from A Man and His Music
Thank you for sharing this wealth of salsa music with us! We’ll be posting the rest of the list on Facebook and Twitter this week.
The Rajasthan International Folk Festival (RIFF), an annual five-day celebration of folk music and performance traditions from around the globe, just wrapped up this past Sunday in Jodhpur, India. Famous for its royal history and its traditional arts, Rajasthan is a major international travel destination. Tourism means more business for the state, but how do Rajasthan’s artists fare?
During a folk performance in Rajasthan’s Thar Desert a few weeks ago, I found myself pulled from my comfortable cushion at the edge of the stage and made to dance in front of a large, cheering crowd. I soon realized that I was tripping over my feet not to a Rajasthani folk song but to a familiar Bollywood tune played on dholak and harmonium!
Rajasthan abounds with artistic talent and its famed handicraft markets overflow with colorful wares ranging from hand-printed bedspreads to exquisite silverwork. Such abundance and the availability of cheaper, factory-made goods begs the question: How can artists make a living in Rajasthan?
Roughly the size of New Mexico, Rajasthan is a large state in northwestern India with vast stretches of desert. The “Land of Kings,” it consisted of approximately 20 small kingdoms before India’s independence and partition in 1947. This, in part, accounts for the almost overwhelming variety of musicians, dancers, and artists in Rajasthan today.
Meharuddin Langa, a “living legend,” playing the algoza during an RIFF performance.
Outside of Jodhpur, we visited a family of weavers long renowned for the quality of their carpets, and in Jaisalmer we met an uncle-nephew puppet troupe carrying on a five-generations-old tradition. Every artist we met seemed to have a similar story of inherited skills.
Thousands of people from India and abroad visit the state each year looking to experience traditional Rajasthani culture. Palace-themed hotels, camel safaris, and “folk” music and dance performances such as we attended appear to be flourishing. Tourism is unquestionably vital to Rajasthan’s economy, but after a few days of travel I found myself wondering if it benefits everyone in the same way.
Surviving as an artist in Rajasthan is definitely as challenging as it is the world over, and the downside to tourism is that it can reduce artistry to mere “lite fare.” Perhaps the more important question then is: How can Rajasthan sustain its vibrant artistic traditions in a way that both honors the past and helps its artists grow and thrive?
Several visionary individuals and organizations in Rajasthan have already taken up the call to achieve this goal, including encouraging collaboration between Rajasthani and international artists. The Jaipur Virasat Foundation (JVF), a nonprofit trust founded by John and Faith Singh in 2002, is at the forefront of this movement.
“Virasat” means “heritage” in Hindi—a fitting designation for an organization dedicated to promoting Rajathan’s traditional arts as well as to creating new opportunities. The folk festival is one of JVF’s many initiatives, and the trust has conducted searches throughout remote parts of Rajasthan for the state’s most talented artists.
A few years ago, JVF brought UK artists Jason Singh and Bex Mather to Rajasthan to conduct workshops and perform with folk musicians. The result? Dharohar: A sensitive and successful merging of artists from different cultural and social backgrounds who toured and performed together throughout India. During the performances, Singh joined forces with morchang (mouth harp)-player Raies Khan for a jugalbandhi (duet) such as the world has never seen before.
Arrangements for traditional instruments go awry very quickly when sounds and instruments are senselessly thrown together—particularly so in the vague genre of “fusion” music. But Singh and Khan’s musical duo works because it’s an innovatively simple pairing of musical techniques and artists who are perfectly attuned to one another.
Are projects like Dharohar and RIFF sustainable and will they benefit artists in the long run? Optimistically, I would say “yes,” because such types of well-organized performances and recording projects provide Rajasthani artists with access to the growing number of people with globally oriented, non-commercial music interests. And for listeners, it is now easier to discover such music thanks in great part to the internet.
Of course, nonprofit projects are susceptible to the ebb and flow of funding, and there’s also commercially oriented competition in Rajasthan…which brings me back to the subject of tourism. If not specifically visiting to attend RIFF or another festival, what can a tourist possibly do to help Rajasthani artists?
Take a little time to research before you go. (I write this tongue-in-cheek having attended a Bollywood-themed performance.) Cruise the internet a bit and reach out to a local non-profit organization, which may be able to recommend lesser-known performances and artist collectives. We found a lot of handicraft collectives, both in the city and in the countryside.
Don’t be afraid to explore and ask around once you’re there. In our case, this led to a private puppet show and a dance performance in the courtyard of a lakeside haveli.
Again, tourism is essential to Rajasthan’s economic vitality and even the commercial ventures provide opportunities for artists. But options do exist that more fully showcase the individuals who are helping to keep the state’s amazing artistic traditions alive, so why not choose one of those instead? You’ll have a more meaningful and memorable experience—and if you aren’t careful, you might also find yourself onstage.
After an exhausting and incredible month, I’m back from my travels. Work requires a bit of extra attention right now, so I’ll publish Apsara‘s first fall feature next week.
India stays with you long after you’ve left. I’ve been thinking a lot about the performances that my husband and I were lucky enough to catch in Rajasthan, and especially about the marketing of Rajasthani “folk” music as a genre. I’ll be discussing this in next week’s feature.
In the meantime, here’s “Rajputana Road,” a well-produced song by Gaurav Venkateswar that he created from an iPhone recording of Rajasthani folk musicians. It conveys the musical conundrum of “tradition” and “technology” and where these two fit together.
Former journalist Scott Allan Stevens discusses his perspective on “world music,” an increasingly ambiguous term and genre that he knows well from his years of hosting KAOS FM’s Spin the Globe radio show and of reviewing music on his blog SoundRoots. (If you are quick enough, you might even win a CD!)
How many years has Spin the Globe been in existence and where did you originally get the idea for it? Did the show or the SoundRoots blog come first?
First, thanks for inviting me to Apsara…I appreciate the opportunity to talk to another group of readers with globally open ears and minds!
My radio show Spin the Globe emerged after I’d been listening to global music for more than a decade; this music was essentially the soundtrack to my international studies emphasis at university, my work as a journalist, and some far-flung travels. After four years as an editor at the Christian Science Monitor in Boston, I returned to my native Pacific Northwest and rediscovered the great community and radio stations here. I found out about free training at KAOS FM in Olympia, Washington, and I knew I had musical knowledge and a personal music collection that would add something new to the airwaves, so I signed up. In September 1999, Spin the Globe first aired, and it has been a wild ride ever since.
SoundRoots came along later in 2005 as a way to share CD reviews, a concert calendar, and other info in the time between Spin the Globe episodes. The “Monday’s MP3” posts are probably the most popular; recently I’ve had some guest posts, which is helpful since I’ve had less time to spend blogging. I’d love to post the many interviews I’ve done over the years; I guess that’s a project for the future.
Do you find that the core of your listeners are from Olympia, the South Puget Sound Area in general, or now with the internet are they simply from around the world? What about your SoundRoots readers?
SoundRoots has readers from all over the world, most from the United States and other English-speaking nations, though many visitors are from France, Germany, Ukraine, and Russia, among many other places. Spin the Globe has something of a three-pronged audience. First, the listeners of the KAOS broadcast are, of course, concentrated around Olympia. Second, I know a number of listeners catch the show via the live KAOS webstream. And third, Spin the Globe is available online for a few weeks after airing. According to stats for 2011, the show has the most listeners in the United States, Japan, Canada, France, the UK, and Germany. I’ve also received emails from listeners in Serbia, Brazil, Malaysia…you name it. But not North Korea. Not yet, anyway.
“World music,” as you aptly state on the Spin the Glob website, is a bit open to interpretation. If pressed, how do you define it in a few sentences?
How hard are you pressing? Seriously, I’ve thought a lot and written some about this (see my conversation with Scott Kettner of Nation Beat). I’m trying to use the phrase “world music” less and less, though it’s still useful if I have only a moment to convey the idea. Or I’ll say that I’m interested in global music with distinct ethnic roots. And yes, that can include anything from Inuit overtone singing to Ghanian drumming to New Orleans brass bands, as well as modern fusions building on such traditions.
In the years that you have been hosting the show and blogging, how do you think that the world music industry has evolved? What do you think are the forces behind any changes that you have seen? Who are the major players nowadays?
The huge shifts in the music industry in general have also hit the “world music” sector, clearly. The internet is probably the single biggest change, allowing artists to connect to listeners more easily and directly and also bringing the scourge of illegal file sharing. For fans of global music, though, the ability to go online to search and buy music from all over the world is amazing. You may be the only person in your city to own a CD by some little-known artist from Kenya or Vietnam…how cool is that? Some record labels are flailing as the musicians connect directly with fans, cutting out the middleman, and I’m seeing an amazing number of self-released CDs these days. At the same time, it’s great to see innovations by some labels. The Rough Guides are now packaged with an entire bonus CD, for example, and a download will never be as good as getting a complete package such as the CD, DVD, artwork, and extensive liner notes that come with the Smithsonian Folkways recordings. Innovative artists and labels will survive.
How, if at all, has the internet changed the way that you find music to play on your show and review on your blog? What are some of the resources that you use?
The internet is a huge part of the research I do each week as I prepare for Spin the Globe and as I write reviews. For musicians I haven’t seen perform live, YouTube can be a great way to get a sense of their performance style. I’ll also visit band and label websites for info. Many global music labels have freebies to entice visitors, by the way. For example, Indies Scope usually posts a free song from each of their releases. Download a bunch of those and you’ve got a great Czech compilation!
While I like videos and interviews with artists, I try to avoid reading other reviews before I’ve reviewed an album. It’s much more interesting to read them later and see the points of agreement and difference with other reviewers.
I also follow dozens of music blogs in Google Reader, many of them focusing on older, out of print LPs. For example, I just nabbed a great mbaqanga album from 1979 from Electric Jive. (While I love blogs like this one, I’m aghast at the blogs that post entire new albums for free downloading. If listeners don’t pay for music, artists don’t get paid. If artists don’t get paid, they’ll get another job and listeners lose. It’s that simple. I always post links to the artist’s website and a legitimate source for the music, because SoundRoots is about discovery and exploration, not about giving away free music.*
Finally, how do you think that the internet may help or hinder artists around the world, especially independent musicians?
Again, it’s all about the innovation. I’m a photographer as well as a radio DJ and blogger, and photography is going through many of the same issues as the music business. Both involve a product that can be easily stolen and pirated. Like photographers, musicians need to keep up with technology and use it to connect with their audience. The internet (along with tablets, smartphones, and whatever comes next) allows one to reach well beyond the local market to make fans, sell product, and even fund future product through crowdsourcing. Of course the key with music or photography or anything else is to have a quality product to start with. The proliferation of tools to make music (and photos) means we all have to wade through more mediocre offerings. I spend more time than I’d like dealing with music that’s either bad or inappropriate for what I do.
Independent musicians in our turbulent but exciting world can thrive by being good at their craft, observant about their audience, and innovative in connecting the two. And music lovers can contribute by going to live shows and actually buying the music. And, if you happen to live near a community radio station, perhaps by getting your own show to highlight a unique musical niche that the mainstream media ignores. Maybe I’ll see you at KAOS?
*Well, SoundRoots isn’t all about giving away free music. But now and then we like giving away a CD. So head on over and you’ll have a chance to win…let me see what’s kicking around here…Ah! I’ll give away the album Tango 3.0 by Gotan Project. I’ll post the contest about the same time as this interview appears on Apsara. Good luck, and thanks for reading and for your interest in global music with distinct ethnic roots!
Ranging from cries of protest to longing for home, the music of Tibetan exile artists creates a complex mosaic that becomes clearer in context.
Four years ago on a plane bound for Lhasa, I watched expectantly as the aircraft’s shadow passed over the verdant mountains surrounding the airport. I grew up picturing an idealized Tibet of snowcapped mountain peaks, shining bronze Buddha statues, and nomads on horseback. During my stay in Lhasa, I woke up every morning to a startlingly blue sky and fell asleep every night to the sounds of discordant singing drifting from the karaoke hall across the street from my hotel. Nothing I experienced between the open and close of my days there could be configured into a set of simple, congruent images.
The Dalai Lama’s visit to the United States this month led me to think about the complexities of my experiences in Tibet and of the Tibetan community living in exile, including its musicians. Approximately 140,000 Tibetans now live abroad, with the majority residing in India. The Dalai Lama and the Central Tibetan Administration, the exile government, have been based in the Dharamsala suburb of Mcleodganj since 1960. Over the decades since the Dalai Lama left Tibet, tension has existed between the exile administration and the Chinese government, which makes historical claims on Tibet and states that Chinese leadership has improved the quality of life there.
Rock resistance
For numerous artists born outside of Tibet, the experience of being without a country and the desire to reclaim Tibet from China are prominent messages in their music. Many of the songs by JJI Exile Brothers, one of the earliest Tibetan exile rock bands, deal with these two themes. Encouraged by their mother, who owns a restaurant in Mcleodganj, brothers Jamyang, Jigme, and Ingsel formed their band in 1998. The brothers cite musical influences ranging from Tibetan exile folk singer Techung to American blues legend Muddy Waters. Over the years, JJI Exile Brothers has maintained a strong following and has inspired many Tibetans with their message.
One of the newer Tibetan rock groups to follow in the tradition of JJI Exile Brothers is Melong Band, founded in Minneapolis in 2007. The group incorporates Himalayan regional instruments, such as the dranyen, a long-necked lute, into many of their songs. Revolt, their most recent album, was released this month in conjunction with the Dalai Lama’s visit. Tenzing Jigme, the band’s lead guitarist, has appeared on Soyala, Voice of America’s contemporary Tibetan music show, and is also the founder of the online Tibetan music radio station Bhodshey.
“Bhod Gyalo” by Melong Band
Voice of Tibet
Originally from Lhasa, singer Yungchen Lhamo has lived in exile since making an arduous trek across the Himalayas in 1989. Now based in New York, she is often called the “Voice of Tibet” and has gained significant recognition for her music, including signing on with Peter Gabriel’s Real World Records and collaborating with prominent artists such as Annie Lennox. While dealing with the hardships of exile, such as longing and displacement, Lhamo’s music is also filled with hope and encouragement for the younger generation of exiles. Lhamo is known for her solo a cappella performances, but on her last two albums has also experimented with different types of accompaniments ranging from kora to full orchestra. In 2004, she established the Yungchen Lhamo Charitable Foundation, which sponsors relief and education projects for Tibetans around the world.
It is worth noting the potential for confusion between Lhamo and Yangjin Lamu, a Tibetan singer also living in the United States. In February 2011, Lamu was awarded for her contribution to Paul Winter’s new age album Miho: Journey to the Mountain. Although she uses the Chinese transliteration of her Tibetan name, the media sometimes refers to Lamu as “Yungchen Lhamo,” including China’s central television agency in its English-language coverage of the 2011 Grammys. Lamu primarily sings a mixture of Buddhist chant and meditation music, and is popular in China and Taiwan. In addition to her music, she is the founder and president of the China Overseas Tibetan Association.
A complex mosaic
When asked about my trip to Tibet, I find that the stunning landscape is the one element that I describe consistently, followed by a narrative of my trip as jumbled as my experiences. Sadly, this beautiful plateau is at the heart of a tough sovereignty issue that impacts the Tibetans living there and those in exile. Images of Tibet’s pristine sky, mountains, and grasslands are frequently evoked in songs by exile musicians, but the perspective from which these artists sing often differs. Musicians born outside of Tibet describe a place that they have never seen, while artists like Yungchen Lhamo sing of a place that they hope to return to. Beyond rock and traditional music, Tibetan exile music is now also expanding into the realms of hip hop, folk rock, electronica, and other genres. These many voices of the Tibetan musical community form a complex mosaic that is complete only when viewed within the context of the different generations and life experiences of its artists.
Ravid Kahalani, founder of the new Israeli band Yemen Blues, takes a moment out of an exhilarating year to discuss his life and music.
Bombs. Gunfire. Armed checkpoints. Mainstream news headlines portray Israel as one of the most violent places in the world. Conflict is there, but it is only one part of a much larger picture.
Enter Yemen Blues, a new band from Israel led by visionary singer Ravid Kahalani. Yemen Blues embodies Kahalani’s passionate belief in intrinsic human goodness and in music’s power to bring out the best in people and to cut across religious and cultural differences. “The truth is that as bad things are happening,” Kahalani states, “GOOD things are happening even more all the time.”
The band just released its first album and has toured from Israel to the United States performing a sound never before heard: blues blended with Yemenite Jewish chants, West African percussion, funk, and much, much more. Yemen Blues’ innovative, high-energy music is no doubt one part of their success. Their positivity also speaks to the many people who, like Kahalani, choose to look beyond the doom-and-gloom of news headlines and see the beautiful side of life.
The band
Born into a large Yemenite Jewish family in Israel, Kahalani grew up learning traditional religious chants. He inherited his family’s famous vocal skills and first demonstrated them at the synagogue at the young age of five. Truly an artistic chameleon, Kahalani later branched off to explore blues and soul music, acting, and percussion. Yet many of the seemingly disparate threads of his artistic experiences are in fact a natural progression of one another, especially his singing.
Voice students take note: Kahalani’s masterful vocal control and range reflect a natural talent perfected through a lifetime of practice and a passion for diverse musical styles. While performing in Serbia in 2004, he discovered the beauty of Orthodox Church music and undertook to learn its vocal techniques. This interest led to a serious two-year study of opera back in Israel.
Kahalani eventually “came home” to the Yemenite music of his childhood while performing as one half of the duo Desert Blues. This and similar musical undertakings, including singing with the Idan Raichel Project, fueled his creative vision and enhanced his expertise. Well-versed then in the music of North Africa, the Middle East, and beyond, where could he go from there?
In 2008, Kahalani met Omer Avital and all of his life’s musical experiences came together. An acclaimed composer, bassist, and oud player, Avital is also part Yemenite and grew up with a similarly rich background of religious, regional, and other music. He spent the first decade of his musical career in New York City steeped in jazz, leading bands and performing with legends such as Wynton Marsalis. Avital returned to Israel for a few years to study composition and Arabic and Israeli music, eventually working with Kahalani on the 2008 Israel Festival production of Debka Fantasia.
Yemen Blues’ ten-track eponymous album features Kahalani’s amazing voice and Avital’s instrumental arrangements performed by talented musicians from Israel, the United States, and Uruguay. Kahalani emphasizes that the group’s cohesion gives their music its strength. In interviews, he names each individual musician: Rony Iwryn (Latin percussion), Itamar Doari (Middle Eastern percussion), Itamar Borochov (trumpet), Galia Hai (viola), Hilla Epstain (cello), Hadar Noiberg (flute), Yohai Cohen (percussion), and Reut Regev (trombone). “You can see onstage how much power there is [in the music] because of the people,” Kahalani states.
The music
Through its music, Yemen Blues seeks to bring listeners to what Kahalani calls the “moment of the soul.” It is the fundamental goodness that he believes all people share. He stresses that basic human understanding “before any opinion or religion” is the essential foundation for a peaceful coexistence.
As the band’s name suggests, blues music provides the medium through which all other musical elements are mixed. Its free, improvisational nature and emotiveness suit the band’s mission and Kahalani’s creativity. He likens it to his own artistic experience that, like blues music, stretches across numerous different cultures. Kahalani uses it to link the many experiences of his life together and to connect with audiences around the world.
This studio session of “Um Min Al Yaman,” which describes a journey in a dream, captures the energy of Yemen Blues.
Yemen Blues’ band members clearly love performing together, and their collaborative energy carries over into the audience. Their music often fills listeners with such a sense of joy that it is not uncommon to see audience members of all ages dancing together in the aisles during concerts. The energy generated at performances is an important element of the music that the group successfully recreated on its first album. “We recorded the album entirely in one room with nothing between us so we could feel each others’ energy,” explains Kahalani.
Kahalani primarily sings in Yemenite Arabic, the language of his family. “I’m trying to learn everything back now,” he says. At the same time, he also pairs languages that fit best with the melody and the meaning of songs. “Trape La Verite,” for example, uses French Creole to describe the end of a romance. Kahalani’s singing is at its finest here, ranging from lullaby-like to wailing. The gentle instrumentization by Avital, especially of the percussion and strings, provides the perfect backing for this bittersweet song.
Yemen Blues performs “Trape La Verite” at Reading3 in Tel Aviv.
The bottom line
To date, Yemen Blues has performed from Israel to Spain and from Brazil to the United States, drawing critical praise wherever they go. More telling of their success, however, is their connection with audience members and the fact that they are genuinely fulfilling their musical vision. Yemen Blues works as a band because they have found the right creative medium—blues music—and truly believe in what they are doing. There is a lot of lip service paid to the “universality” of music, but this is a band that could even make a skeptic believe.
“Baraca,” performed at Freight and Salvage in Berkeley, demonstrates the best of the band’s musical and collaborative skills.
Yemen Blues’ feverish performance schedule continues this summer, offering numerous opportunities to hear them live. Their website provides details about many of their performances, and check your local concert listings too for those not shown.
We look forward to catching Yemen Blues perform again in the San Francisco Bay Area this summer and expect a bright future for this talented and worthy band.
Senegalese acoustic music pioneer Pape Armand Boye connects with audiences through sincere, conscious artistry. A true “world musician,” he skillfully navigates the waters of this genre by retaining his own clear voice.
In March 2009, a crowd of nine hundred fans sat perched on the edge of the red plush seats in San Francisco’s Palace of Fine Arts, awaiting the entrance of the Idan Raichel Project. Instead, the audience was startled by the appearance of an unanticipated feature act. Pape Armand Boye and Clifton Hyde walked calmly onto the stage, briefly tuned their guitars and then, with a natural ease, entered into a set of rich acoustic melodies that quickly won over any potential dissenters. The cavernous reaches of the Palace melted into an intimate space as the music invited audience members to lean in close and share in the simple act of two friends making music together and telling stories about life.
Originally from Senegal, Boye is a composer, instrumentalist, singer, producer, and arranger who leads a busy life performing and working on musical projects in New York City, France, and Germany. No matter where his music takes him, he remains deeply connected to Senegal where he and his brother pioneered its now-thriving acoustic music scene. His music—live or recorded—is a sincere, sensitive reflection of both his own life and of the human experience—its joys, but also its inevitable struggles.
Acoustic Senegal
Boye grew up in the small coastal city of Rufisque on the outskirts of Dakar, where very early on he experienced the wide array of music played on the radio, including many iconic West African artists. “When my mother was cooking, I would hear Lalo Keba Drame, the great Gambian korist,” he recalls, “and the sounds of Samba Diabare Samb, the legendary Senegalese xalam player.” Growing older, he was drawn to music like the folk rock of Bob Dylan, the roots reggae of Joseph Hill, and the ballads of Jacques Brel; to songs that coupled acoustic guitar and meaningful lyrics; and to the powerful voice of Egyptian singer Umm Kalthoum.
Boye’s San Francisco performance was not very far from his musical debut on television with his brother Badou in the 1990s. The two brothers appeared on stage with nothing but acoustic guitars and a bass—a radical departure from the large mbalax ensembles then dominating Senegal’s popular music scene. Cutting through the synthesized sounds of mbalax, they introduced a style of music they believed authentically expressed the “softer, deeper side” of Senegal.
Senegalese acoustic music eventually took firm root, but not without the perseverance of the two brothers. “Even if the price to pay was high, I’m very proud of the battles we fought,” Boye emphasizes. Acoustic music coexists in Senegal today with the ever-popular mbalax and a prevalence of global music offerings. Boye views expanding to a wider music market as the next challenge for Senegal’s musicians. “There is a long way to go until our music becomes accessible to the Western consumer the way that reggae, blues, or salsa is,” he says.
Communicating and connecting
Boye speaks German and English in addition to his native tongues of French and Wolof, reflecting the very international nature of his work. He keenly understands the fine line a musician engaged in today’s world music genre must walk between artistry and marketability. “I think a lot of world music artists concentrate so much on communicating with the rest of the world that they lose who they are in the first place,” he says. “Whether it’s by becoming what others expect of them or just reproducing the music of others, in the end the artistry can get lost.”
Communication is, in fact, at the heart of Boye’s music, and is something he strives to do with authenticity and a strong sense of self in order to better connect with listeners. His masterful guitar and clear voice lead the way through gentle arrangements of violin, cello, bass, marimba, djembe, and other instruments. On the title track of Xareba (The Struggle), his most recent album, rap lyrics even enter the mix—providing a surprising complement to mandolin. Boye carefully crafts his songs based on years of experimenting across a variety of musical styles. When pressed to categorize his music, he describes it as “new African acoustic soul,” but cautions against focusing too much on genre labels.
Boye’s lyrics are as straightforward and sincere as his conversation. In “Hero Ak Ngayo” (“The War”), for example, he poignantly describes how misunderstanding and conflict are born, and how resolution can be reached:
Remember that day
your thoughts and mind had already changed—
that day you were full of anger and hate,
when all you wanted was war.
Now I see who you are—
I see all that you’ve done.
But you can wait for me;
I’m still coming.
When I get there we’ll talk.
It is important to Boye that his many listeners in the United States and Europe understand his songs. His albums provide translations of the Wolof lyrics into English and French, and during live performances, Boye pauses between songs to explain their meaning.
“When I sing or play,” he says, “I’m telling my listeners how I feel and what I’ve lived—the same way a friend tells you their story. It’s deeply personal. In the end, I want people to find themselves in what I’ve felt and lived.”
Coming up
Boye and Hyde will bring their onstage musical chemistry to an all-acoustic album coming out later this year. Originally from Mississippi, Hyde exhibits virtuosic mastery of numerous stringed folk instruments, including guitar, banjo, ukulele, mandolin, and zither. He dazzled the Palace of Fine Arts audience playing Boye’s compositions on steel guitar, and this album promises to be no less exciting.
In addition to his longtime collaboration with Hyde, Boye often performs and records with a full band, as he did with Xareba. He and the band are currently hard at work to produce a new album by spring 2012, one that will feature Boye’s uniquely personal songs with a backing of innovative string and percussion arrangements.
As he records and performs, Boye continues to connect with listeners around the world in a sincere, authentic way by staying firmly on his own course as he did in the 1990s when pioneering acoustic music with his brother in Senegal. “They key is to know about the best from others,” he states, “But in the end it’s all about giving the best of yourself. It’s not easy, but it’s amazing when it works.”
I bought Blind Threshold (2010), the third and most recent album by the Oakland, CA-based roots-electronica group Beats Antique, well over a month ago and still listen to it almost every single day. If I had this on vinyl rather than in MP3 format, it would be worn out by now.
So what is so captivating about the album? The eclectic, almost indescribable sound.
The three members of Beats Antique—David Satori, Tommy Cappel, and Zoe Jakes—bring together a diverse and well-trained musical background spanning Western European classical to hip hop, with knowledge of music from Eastern Europe, West Africa, the Middle East, and other regions of the world. This comes through in the album’s fourteen tracks as a bass-heavy, richly layered melding of electronified strings, percussion, horns, and vocals. John Popper of Blues Traveler even lends his harmonica to the track “There Ya Go.”
“Egyptic,” the album’s opening track, is the ideal accompaniment to a tribal belly dance performance, and small wonder with Jakes’ background with Bellydance Superstars and Indigo Belly Dance Company. The song opens quietly, with a line of simple beats and melody, before building into a crescendo of bass, strings, and darbuka. Heavy electronic reverberations replace and also fill the space between the melody and percussion throughout the entire song.
“Rising Tide” features lush vocals by LYNX atop violins and banjo, with occasional forays into the pentatonic scale found in the music of North Africa and the Middle East. It is beautiful, unusual, and a little haunting with the lyrics:
With your altars made of trash,
the aftermath of disposable dreams.
You know that you were born,
for more than what machines provide.
Unlike most of Beats Antique’s other songs, which are largely instrumental, the vocals take center stage here before “Rising Tide” closes with the sound of fading violins.
If you have not heard it yet, Blind Threshold is well worth checking out, as is Contraption, Vol. 1, also with vocals by LYNX and a heavy dose of dub. And if you ever have a chance to see Beats Antique live, their shows are famous for their color and spectacle, as exemplified by this performance at the 2009 Sonic Boom Festival.