critic’s pick 285: vieux farka toure, ‘mon pays’

vieux farka toureGiven the cultural and wartorn strife that has besieged his Malian homeland over the past 18 months, Vieux Farka Toure’s Mon Pays is a novelty. It’s not a protest album. It’s not even a postcard from the front. It is instead a remembrance of Mali’s cultural splendor, one intended as much for the outside world as for the thousands displaced by the fighting between the country’s native Tuaregs and invading Islamic extremists.

There is a narrative depth to the album that we, as Americans, probably can’t appreciate. None of the songs on Mon Pays are sung in English, which excludes us from stories of nationality (Kele Magni), generational faith (Diack So) and the homeland tragedies at hand (Yer Gando). But the music conveys the mood through guitar lines that dance about with the grace and lightness of snowflakes and a sensibility in its vocal makeup that is largely contemplative.

There is perhaps an unintended irony in the fact that the two songs possessing English titles – Future and Peace – are both instrumentals. But these are also the best points of entry for new ears. Both are duets between guitar and the beautiful, harp-like kora. Both pack a powerful sense of history. The guitarist is the son of the reknown Malian musician Ali Farka Toure while the kora player is Sidiki Diabate, son of the great Toumani Diabate. The fathers were also a famed duo, responsible for a pair of Grammy-winning collaborations (In the Heart of the Moon and Ali and Toumani). The songs their sons present on Mon Pays (complimented by the kora-dominate Doni Doni) unfold like ballets with delicate but pronounced lyricism and a sense of musical give-and-take that is both delicate and dramatic.

But the most telling collaboration closes the album. On Ay Bakoy, Toure reaffirms a recent alliance with Israeli pianist Idan Raichel. The two toured as the Toure-Raichel Collective behind the wonderful 2012 global jam album The Tel Aviv Session. Ay Bakoy, however, bears a temperament more in line with the meditative and slightly elegiac feel of the duets with Diabate

In the end, two things about the current unrest in Mali need to be considered when taking in any aspect of Mon Pays. The first is that is that the invading fundmentalists seek to outlaw music in one of the most musical fertile climates of the world. The second is that Toure is himself a Muslim, but one far removed from the militants and, as he has termed them, “hypocrites” seeking to transform his country and his religion for their own purposes.

It’s no wonder then that the English translation of Mon Pays is “my country.” But one listen to this intensely serene music will tell you that.

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