Salif Keita: “The youth are into machines… We are about to lose our traditional instruments” | Songlines
Thursday, June 13, 2024

Salif Keita: “The youth are into machines… We are about to lose our traditional instruments”

By Robin Denselow

After announcing his retirement in 2018, Malian singer and musician Salif Keita has slowly returned to the spotlight following a series of shows last year. Now, he’s making the comeback official with an extraordinary new album

Salif Keita Songlines 25Th HR C Jamie Hodgskin 255 Copy

Salif Keita at the Barbican for Songlines’ 25th anniversary (photo: Jamie Hodgskin)

Salif Keita is one of the most adventurous, gloriously soulful singer-songwriters on the planet, and a man who likes to surprise. When he released his last album Un Autre Blanc in 2018, it was announced that this would be the last studio release from the great Malian veteran. And yet here he was in 2024, sitting in a London hotel room, playing guitar and talking about his next two albums and the intimate and historic appearance he would be making at Songlines’ 25th-anniversary show at the Barbican the following day. So, no retirement then? He laughs. “People convinced me to record again. And I’m happy.”

Those lucky enough to have seen him at the Barbican will know that he’s still on remarkable form. Dressed in a magnificent gold robe and hat, he perched on a stool, playing acoustic guitar, accompanied only by the kora of Madou Diabaté, Toumani Diabaté’s younger brother. Their exquisite, unplugged set included new versions of songs from five of his albums and ended with a remarkable new song, ‘Proud’. Here he showed off his vocal range on an emotional piece that suddenly erupted into a flurry of rapid-fire phrasing as he burst into English to announce ‘I’m African and proud.’

Above: Salif live in Prague (2023) (photo: Anna Šolcová)

Above: Salif live in Prague (2023) (photo: Anna Šolcová)

That song also provides the finale for Salif’s next album So Kono, which he aims to release later this year. It’s an acoustic, minimalist set on which Salif and his guitar are accompanied not by kora, but Badjé Tounkara’s ngoni playing, with calabash percussion from Mamadou Koné. It was recorded in a hotel room in Japan, while Salif was on tour there, because “NØ FØRMAT! [the record label] pushed me to do it. They had been asking for an acoustic album for a long time, and finally it was a good moment!”

In many ways, this is a long-awaited follow-up to Moffou, the much-praised, largely acoustic album Salif released in 2002. But while Moffou included tracks on which he was accompanied only by his acoustic guitar, there were other songs where he was backed by electric guitar, along with traditional instruments including ngoni and djembé. There is no hint of any amplification on this more stripped-back set, which includes new versions of tracks from M’Bemba (2005) and a new treatment of ‘Soundiata’, the praise song to his celebrated ancestor who founded the Malian empire in the 13th century, which he sang with the Rail Band at the start of their career. And then there are the new songs, including one praising the late Kanté Manfila, the guitarist with whom he worked in Les Ambassadeurs, and who played on several of Salif’s albums, including M’Bemba. “He was a wonderful guitarist and a teacher,” says Salif. “He showed me so many things about music.” As for ‘Proud’: “It’s very new. I am what I am, and I’m proud!”

Salif is spending this summer on an extensive tour, taking in much of Europe, the US, South Africa and even Zimbabwe (but sadly no further dates in the UK), and has already started work on the album that will follow So Kono, scheduled for release next year. It will involve his full band, along with special guests “not decided yet.” And it will have a highly original musical theme – which is still a secret.

Salif performing at Kyotophonie, Japan, in 2023

Salif performing at Kyotophonie, Japan, in 2023

It’s the latest instalment in a long and extraordinary story, in which Salif succeeded against all the odds. Coming from a noble family, he was never supposed to be a musician – that was the work of the griot families, the hereditary praise singers. As he was born with albinism he was ostracised and bullied when he was growing up. He wanted to become a teacher but was told that couldn’t happen because, he recalls, “I was scaring the children.”

Salif says that he was 20 when he became aware of his extraordinary voice and realised he could have a career in music. He sang in Bamako’s clubs and then joined the legendary Rail Band, before leaving to join their great rivals Les Ambassadeurs (where Kanté Manfila, the pioneering guitarist who mixed Malian and Western styles, was chef d’orchestre). In 1978 the political situation in Mali led the band to move to the Ivory Coast, where the group recorded ‘Mandjou’, a homage to Guinean President Sekou Touré, who had honoured Salif in 1976.

His first solo album Soro (1987) was a sensation, with his extraordinary voice matched with electronica and keyboards. He went on to record with US jazz stars and his hero Carlos Santana “who was wonderful,” before releasing the acoustic Moffou. Later albums have included production work from Gotan Project’s Philippe Cohen Solal on Talé (2012), while Un Autre Blanc included collaborations with Angélique Kidjo and Ladysmith Black Mambazo.

So why these constant changes in musical direction? “I learn from different situations. I have different inspirations.” Did the fact that he is not a griot make that easier? “Yes, of course. They follow one tradition, but I work with different musicians to learn about music.” Did he find it frustrating that he received far more praise for acoustic albums like Moffou than some of his jazz-funk fusion releases? “The English like acoustic styles… but people like different styles in different places. At festivals, people like big bands and lots of people on stage. It’s not frustrating. It’s gratifying.”

Salif is one of the heroes of the glory years of Malian music – an era when he and compatriots such as Ali Farka Touré, Toumani Diabaté and Rokia Traoré made this land-locked country on the edge of the Sahara world-famous for its extraordinary musicians. So, what is happening in Mali now?

He had been a genial but not over-talkative interviewee, with his international manager Carolina Vallejo providing the translation when he switched from English to French, but now he suddenly becomes far more animated. The situation in Mali clearly worries him. “There are many new artists who are rappers, but there are few who are musicians. They do it with machines. They are not musicians – and it’s the same everywhere in Africa. The youth are into machines. You can sample a kora so a keyboard sounds like a kora, but it’s not the same thing.”

He is so concerned that he has organised a festival in September this year to encourage young musicians who play traditional instruments. It will take the form of a competition, happening across the country, with the winners from each region meeting in the capital Bamako for the final. Those playing keyboards or guitar will not be able to enter, but kora, balafon and ngoni players will, of course, be welcome. Salif says “We are about to lose our traditional instruments – that’s why we are holding this festival. In Bamako in September, you will be able to see all the traditional instruments. And Bamako is not dangerous.”

Mali has faced serious political and security problems in recent years, and the previous government’s failure to deal with attacks by armed Islamist groups has been cited as one of the causes of the military coup in 2021 (the second in nine months), after which Colonel Assimi Goïta took control. Salif caused controversy when it was announced that he had been appointed a Special Adviser to Goïta. This was a few years after he was quoted as saying “democracy is not a good thing for Africa… people have to understand democracy, and how can people understand when 85% of the people in the country cannot read or write?”

When I begin to ask about this, Carolina steps in: “We are really not allowed to speak about politics – he is a cultural person,” to which Salif adds: “If you start talking about politics and who is the president, then maybe next year it changes – it’s not a good idea. I’m neutral. I love my country, and I love culture.”

But wasn’t he a Special Adviser? “I work with the Culture Minister,” says Salif “but I’m not otherwise involved.” “Salif came up with the idea for the festival,” says Carolina “and they said yes, it’s a great idea. He can make things happen.”

And what about that quote about democracy? “I never said democracy was wrong for Africa,” Salif replies, “I don’t know anything about politics!” To which Carolina adds: “Salif loves democracy. He supports the government who are there now because it’s what the people wanted.”

Salif will be 75 in August, and he says he’s spending more time at Djataland, his island on the Niger River. But for a man who is supposed to have retired, he is remarkably busy. Apart from the albums, the touring and the music contest, he continues to support those, like himself, who suffer from albinism, through his Global Foundation. “This year,” he says. “I’m building a hospital for albinos in Bamako that will specialise in the skin problems they can suffer from.” And is there now less discrimination against albinos because of his international success? “Much less,” he replies.


This article originally appeared in the July 2024 issue of Songlines. Never miss an issue – subscribe today

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