An oasis of desert blues

A remote triangle of land nestled between Mauritania, Algeria and Niger in Mali's northeast corner may seem an unlikely home address for one of the most popular bands on the 21st-century world music circuit. But, since their UK debut at 2001's Womad music festival, Tinariwen's signature mix of bittersweet electric guitar and lush Sahara song has gone global. Riding on the wake of kudos from veterans of Led Zeppelin, U2 and Radiohead, Tinariwen has attracted thousands of fans on transcontinental tours, racking up numerous awards and record sales once unthinkable for nomadic Turaregs surviving on the southern edge of Berber civilization.

Over the past 20 years, Mali has become well-known for providing the international scene with such musical luminaries as Salif Keita, Ali Farka Toure, Habib Koite and Amadou & Mariam. Even though they share the same nationality, the members of Tinariwen are from a historically distinct culture. As speakers of the Berber dialect Tamashek, their North African historical connections not only set the language they sing in, but shape the wellsprings of contemporary and traditional influences they draw from.

The members of Tinarwen, who first met in the late 1970s, came out of an era in North Africa when the influential Nass El Ghiwane (sometimes called Morocco's Rolling Stones) gained popularity across the Magreb with their harder interpretation of Berber folk rhythms, matched with political and spiritual messages. Non-African influences also found their way into the musical mix of the band's formative years via bootlegged cassette tapes. As their manager, Andy Morgan, tells The Prague Post, "I know that [Tinariwen founder/guitarist/songwriter] Ibrahim and the other ishumar [unemployed migrants in Algeria and Libya] he was hanging out with in the 1970s would listen to a lot of Western pop and rock. The names I've heard them quote often are Dire Straits, Santana, Led Zeppelin, Bob Dylan, Jimi Hendrix and Elvis Presley."

As to the more pastoral origins of Tinariwen's sound, Morgan adds, "Having spoken to Ibrahim quite a bit about this subject, I can confidently say that, before he started to make his own guitars out of water containers, sticks and bicycle brake wire, he spent a lot of time looking after animals. And the flute, which the nomads make themselves from the root of a certain tree, was a constant companion and solace."

While the timeless sound of the lonely shepherd's song can be heard in Tinarewen's riffs, the vocal color of Tinariwen's sound is derived from the women's choral singing that is central to Tuareg celebrations for births, weddings and camel-trade festivals. At events like these, in order to provide the rhythm for their vocals, women resourcefully construct the Tuareg drum known as a tende by stretching a goatskin across the mortar they use to grind flour. It may sound ancient - and it is - but Morgan says this kitchen drum and chorus music is still so popular with the Tuaregs that many use it for ringtones on their mobile phones.

In 2008, Tinariwen released their fifth album of desert blues, entitled Imidiwan/Companions (on UK's Independiente label). Recorded in the Malian oasis city of Tessalit, the album's sound reflects the calm of the desert, while the lyrics focus on the complicated challenges the Tuaregs face. These days, they have to deal not only with issues of sustaining their language and livelihood in a region where national borders make little historical sense, but also the uranium mines in Tuareg territory in nearby Niger, which are pushing the area into politics that stretch far beyond their ken.

Whatever their problems may be at home, Tinariwen is always a dignified and satisfying live act. Dressed in elegant blue Tuareg robes, Tinariwen plays elliptical electric blues that evoke Jimi Hendrix's Moorish dreams, while their choruses echo the antiquity of Carthage and the coziness of the modern-day Saharan hearth.

Unless you have been fortunate enough to travel the frontiers of the Sahara or hear Tinariwen in the past, such comparisons may sound like a stretch. But as Robert Plant once said, "Listening to Tinariwen is like dropping a bucket into a deep well."

Darrell Jónsson can be reached at
features@praguepost.com