New Music: Vieux Farka Touré, Welcome

Vieux Farka Touré - Ana (World Village 2007)

Vieux Farka Touré – Vieux Farka Touré / World Village

Thanks to Mali’s landlocked geographic position in Western Africa, it is subject to hundreds of different ethnic groups all infusing their own cultural influences to create one nearly indefinable Malian culture soundtracked by a barrage of musical styles. On top of just the indigenous instrumentation, post-World War II Mali was subject to an intermixing of African, American and British soldiers, introducing most importantly the guitar to the Saharan country. Like most pre-60s African countries, and really most countries around the world at that time, dance music was the craze and along with the passed-down Malian traditions, European dances like the rumba, waltz and tango drifted south through Africa. When Modibo Keita became the first president of the newly independent country, he further pushed cultural expression and as well as instigating a roots revival, Cuban music became popular. The 70s saw further diversification with a style eerily parallel to the American blues surfaced as the electric guitar rose in popularity and the continued importation of outside genres. By the time of America’s eye-opening epiphany in the 80s with regard to world music (“Wait! You mean other countries are making interesting music too???”), Malian music was as diverse as ever with fusion, pop, rock and even techno-influenced Mande music being popular at the time. But one man seemed to capture the majority of America’s attention with his distinctly mellifluous and meticulous Malian folk guitar that resembled the American blues with its immensely soulful expression. Ali Farka Touré became an international musical icon and was instrumental in bringing much warranted attention to his home country. Sadly though, he passed away in March of 2006, but thankfully his son Vieux Farka Touré is continuing on his legacy as well as progressing the musical foundation his father established with his eponymous debut album.

After a career of hardships, the last thing the elder Touré wanted was his son to enter the music business, even going to the extent of demanding he become a soldier. Well the creative genes refused to sit idly, and against his father’s wishes, Vieux started first to play percussion before taking up his father’s guitar and attending the National Arts Institute in Bamako. As you would suspect, the music came easily and by the time of his graduation, Vieux was a local celebrity and joined Toumani Diabeté, a renowned kora player (a 21-string harp-lute indigenous to the area), a close friend to Ali and one of Vieux greatest supporters, and his band. After touring internationally with Diabeté and in the waning moments of his father’s battle with bone cancer, Vieux began work on his solo debut with the help of producer Eric Herman and the eventual permission of his father.

As expected, there are quite a few similarities between Ali and Vieux’s guitar playing. The sweet-toned, intensely meticulous and pastoral vibe of Ali’s Saharan blues is passed down to Vieux, who seems bent on not only perfecting his father’s earthy style but also pushing it in directions never before explored. Some of Ali’s last recorded material is present here in duet form with his son. “Tambara” lets the elder take the lead providing tight elliptical flourishes of almost angelic tone while Vieux respectably plays the role of rhythm adding an earnest palette for Ali to embellish on. Later, “Diallo” provides a more upbeat and extended interaction; Ali’s guitar is much more lively with a swirling, tinny approach while Vieux sings in a smooth yet guttural manner, sounding much more aged than you’d expect from the young man.

While the father-son collaborations may be the starting point for most intrigued listeners, the infusion of outside genres, mainly reggae, rock, funk and R&B;, are what keep you coming back. The best and most exciting of these hyphenated explorations is “Ana,” a delicious four-minutes of intertwining Malian and Jamaican influences. Beginning somewhat docile with Vieux’s fracture Saharan blues backed by tight reggae upstrokes, it continually builds into a climax of organ flourishes, wah-wah funk and horn embellishments. Everything is tastefully recorded and Vieux grooves along patiently over the juicy bass line unveiling a connection between the two cultures never before explored (at least to my knowledge).

Like Ali, Toumani Diabeté also gets two songs to jam along with Vieux. The renowned kora player effortlessly glides across his 21-string harp, patiently finding his groove and then rapidly improvising with perfected flourishes only achieved when you have been playing an instrument for decades upon decades. He takes center stage on “Toure De Niafunke,” while Vieux provides a warm, subtle rhythm much like on “Tambara.” The young Touré certainly understands his place and rightfully lets the elder statesmen shine. Diabeté also plays on the final track, conveniently named “Diabeté.” Again, the angelic kora is the concentration, but Vieux definitely slips in a little bit of subdued virtuoso himself, momentarily grabbing the spotlight with his crafty rhythm line while Diabeté strategically plans his next move.

With ten songs just under fifty minutes, Vieux Farka Touré’s eponymous debut is a patient album that not only pays rightful respect to his elders, but also acts as a passing of the torch to the young guitarist and even lets him explore a little on his own. The production and recording is pristine, never opting for augmenting studio techniques but masterfully capturing the idiosyncratic tones of each of the individual players. With Ali Farka Touré’s passing less than a year before this album’s release (in February 07), there is also a sense of bittersweet reflection. It is great that the father and son were able to create such wonderful music together, but also makes you think about the possibilities lost because of the elder Touré’s initial stubbornness. Nonetheless, we get to welcome in an exceptionally promising new artist and hopefully Vieux will continue on and progress the tradition Ali Farka Touré started.






Welcome - All Set (Fat Cat 2007)

Welcome – Sirs / Fat Cat

The 20-year stylistic loop phenomenon in independent music is sometimes too eerily spot-on for it’s own good. Sitting comfortable now in 2007, we look back to the late 80s and concurrently the late 60s. Our first cycle back sees the burgeoning alt-pop scene taking hold with the Pixies acting as scene-pavers and the Seattle outcasts banding together for their imminent takeover of the American underground. The glossy, materialistic outer shell of the 80s is giving way to melodic pop hooks strung through raucous, out-of-tune guitars and abrasive yet infectious outbursts of the two-minute pop song. The cycle prior to that, the late 60s, really is the starting point for that exact sound with the influential growth of the underground New York scene spiraling outwards from The Velvet Underground. As well, The Stooges were redefining the possibilities of pop-rock music by dragging it through the dirt, and mainstream pop was growing increasingly more abrasive and mutating in the direction of punk. Now we fast-forward back to present time as the lush and epic indie-pop of the mid-00s is once again heading in an increasingly noisy and concise direction. And though it takes some tunneled vision to really bang home such a loose theory, a record like Sirs from Seattle quartet Welcome only further proves the theorists right.

Welcome’s line-up is straight out of the Pixies handbook: straightforward set-up of guitar/guitar/bass/drums, check; wily frontman with a penchant for odd word-play, check; a female bass player with a hypnotic voice, check; large collection of distortion pedals, check. The basement recording of the album all but wraps it up with the not-quite-lo-fi but certainly not glossy sound and the homespun atmosphere so important to the alt-pop albums of the late-80s/early-90s. But it’s not all gritty two-minute outbursts; there is definitely a healthy serving of recognizable psyche-pop melodies meandering just below the distortion pedals and loose riff exchanges. And as the press release so conveniently states, you can’t spin this album without succumbing to at least a brief nostalgic sigh for the late-60s psyche-pop luminaries like The Creation, Syd Barrett’s Pink Floyd and Revolver-era Beatles (the latter is further embellished with frontman Pete Brand’s Lennon-esque vocals). The greatest lure and dismissal of Sirs is exactly the same: nostalgia for both of the influencing eras.

For me it’s all lure. The first three tracks which clock in at about six-and-a-half minutes combined are instantly attention grabbing. “All Set” opens with choral “ah-yeas,” a crunchy bass line, ping-ponging distorted guitar shards and the snare/tambourine-heavy percussion of the late-60s. Slight psychedelic delay and tape manipulations only further the cause. “Marry Me Men” features Brand’s smoothly gruff vocals drive the song with a splattering bass that plugs along for a minute-and-half before giving away to a little Sgt. Pepper background noise and quickly calling it quits. Bassist Jo Claxton takes over the mic for “Bunky” with her hazed, easy-on-the ears croon; the two-minute song, like the majority of the album, rings along for just enough time to establish itself before cuing down. The two longest tracks (just over four minutes), “First” and “Sirs,” let you know why; the second half of each song is just diminishing instrumental meandering, not necessarily bad, but not really needed either. And though I’m partial to the first half of the album, you could almost call “You With Me” a Revolver b-side, though it’s certainly sloppier than anything The Beatles ever produced.

So that’s basically it. Do you dig late-60s psyche-pop and late-80s underground alt-pop? Well do yourself a favor and pick-up Sirs because it’s absolutely up your alley. Wonderfully sloppy, poppy and choppy, Welcome definitely knows what they are doing musically, but loves to drag it through their dingy basement and string it through their homemade sfx pedals crafting a nostalgic mood but never outright mimicking their so obvious influences. You better start digging out your flannel now because according to the 20-year stylistic cycle, the next wave of grunge is just around the corner.