When Vieux Farka Touré isn't touring North Africa or the United States, his sound is part of Bamako's acoustics. His desert blues characterize the nights of the West African metropolis. Even if you're not sitting in front of one of the open-air stages on the Niger, the wind carries the bluesy riffs to the neighboring districts, you can still dance to the hypnotically rocking rhythms of his band on the opposite bank.
A ngoni lute scratches provocatively. The electric guitar twirls Blue Notes around. And then this wonderfully melancholic singing! That seems like an archaic prayer in the midst of the noisy, dirty Niger metropolis, this swarm of market places and dilapidated minibuses.
In fact, the band's sounds date back centuries. Together with the slaves who were taken from the Niger to the Mississippi, they once formed the foundations of the blues. And yet Vieux Farka Touré in Bamako always hears a few moaning voices: "He's only copying his father," some say. Or also: "What do these rock guitars have to do with Songhai music?"
You have to know one or two things: Vieux Farka Touré is the son and heir of the singer and guitarist Ali Farka Touré, the man who popularized the so-called Desert Blues worldwide, and to whom it is thanks that Western musicians today are inspired by Damon Albarn until Robert Plant makes a pilgrimage to Mali in search of roots, hipsters like Black Keys producer Dan Auerbach record with musicians from the Sahel, yes, the future of pop is often thought of in terms of Niger.
When his father died in 2007, Vieux was predestined to be his successor. And at first he didn't know how to wear this honor: "You can't just play the same as your father," says Vieux, wearing a traditional embroidered damask robe and fashionable glasses, during a break in his "Ali Farka Touré" studio. Although the family comes from Niafunké in the Timbuktu region, only in Bamako can Malian musicians survive to some extent. "Thanks to my American tours," says Vieux, "I'm not feeling bad. But in order to be recognized in Mali, I have to find my own way. And that can be difficult.”
And then there's another challenge: Mali has possibly the most critical audience in the world – at least when it comes to music. The fact that legendary musicians have been coming from the country, which is considered one of the poorest in Africa, has also brought about a certain level of music reception.
Anyone who is new has to be measured: for example, by singers like Salif Keita and Oumou Sangaré, ngoni virtuosos like Bassekou Kouyaté, kora players like Toumani Diabate or Ballaké Sissoko, rocking Tuareg bands like Tinariwen. The list could go on for a long time.
This is another reason why Vieux Farka Touré took an unusually long time for its seventh album. He worked on it for three years: "In the past I always added a bit of reggae, funk or rock to the mix. But now I went back to my roots: Which instruments, which arrangements are suitable? It felt like I was playing for the neighbors on my own doorstep. Or – like in the past – sit down with my guitar on the banks of the Niger in Niafunké”.
To anticipate it. “Les Racines”, released by the British label World Circuit – home of the Buena Vista Social Club, among others – is Touré's masterpiece. Sublime blues meditations like "Lahidou", the gently rolling love song "Flany Konare" or "Les Racines" with its flamenco percussion and brooding guitar riffs are already classics. Songs for eternity. And love letters to the father.
He often took Vieux with him on his travels and tours. And advised him not to become a musician. Why? "He wanted to protect me," explains the son. "I shouldn't experience the same disappointments as him." His father was betrayed by his own managers and often returned from concert tours in France with empty pockets. Vieux should rather join the military. Protecting people is just as important as making them dance and sing.
In the end, however, Vieux didn't swap his guitar for a Kalashnikov - with good reason: "Music is the most powerful weapon in our country. It means more than entertainment. Much more. On the one hand, it serves as a cement for the social context - and then the songs always transport messages".
The musician talks about the rice fields where the farmers listen to music while they work. About country dwellers who don't know television or newspapers, but always have their small radio with them. By the majority of the population, who can't read and write, but can memorize many texts. "Everything they learn in life comes from our songs."
Vieux has placed urgent messages alongside the music, which in its sparseness and grace is reminiscent of his father's arrangements. For example "Ngala Kaourene" with its appeal to the unity of the Malians across all ethnic borders. Or "Gabou Ni Tie": Here he reprimands young people who evade traditional upbringing and the advice of their parents. He blames the lyrics of the young musicians for this: "They sing: I love this woman. She has a big ass and drives me crazy. But the true musicians of Mali are not only about themselves. They are about the needs of the community”.
Who does he mean by the true musicians? Vieux raves about the pop diva and women's rights activist Oumou Sangaré. Or by rappers like Master Soumy. Its socially critical messages hit the mark. He himself, says Vieux, thinks a lot about his lyrics. They often deal with family conflicts. From jealousy. And how to settle disputes peacefully. However, he does not want to get involved directly in politics.
Only the jihadists addressed Ali Farka's son bluntly. During their occupation of northern Mali in 2012, they threatened to kill musicians and burned their instruments: "I sing 'You have come to stop the music. But you don't know anything. And you can't do anything to us. For we only fear God'".
Even ten years after the cities of the north were liberated by the French, things remain dangerous for the musicians. Vast swaths of land have slipped out of government control, and entire villages have been massacred by Islamist terrorists. The crisis was exacerbated by the military coup a year ago, the rift between the transitional government and France, and the embargo imposed on Mali by neighboring ECOWAS countries. Outside of Bamako, raids occur daily.
Nevertheless, Vieux Farka Touré is still touring. "Before my performances in Niafunké, Diré and Timbuktu, the jihadists sent me warnings. Musicians have been kidnapped lately. But we had taken our precautions." Vieux Farka Touré says no one can take him away from his mission: to carry on his father's music. And to keep alive the longing for a peaceful, tolerant Mali.
He now also teaches young musicians and sound engineers in his studio. Two pieces of advice from Ali Farka Touré are particularly important to him. Slowness – as an antidote to the rampant fast food pop productions from the laptop. And renunciation. “My father taught me the importance of keeping music simple. When you listen to the new album, you realize that I don't make much noise. Because it is the simplest, most relaxed music that touches the heart the most".
Old Farka Touré „The Roots“ (World Circuit)
