Koima

The West first heard the guitarist and singer Sidi Touré, from Gao in northern Mali, in 1996 when Stern’s released the album Hoga. A fine example of the desert blues in the Songhai style made famous by his unrelated namesake Ali Farka Touré, Sidi then disappeared until 2011 when he re-emerged on the hip Chicago-based indie rock label Thrill Jockey with Sahel Folk [reviewed in #74]. That record was a sparse, stripped-down field recording of mostly solo first takes, made in his sister’s house. His second album for the label is a fully-fledged studio recording, his acoustic guitar this time backed by additional guitarists, bass, calabash percussion, one-stringed soukou fiddle and female background vocals. Oddly it transpires that the album was recorded in 2009, so Koima appears to be a Blue Peter-style ‘here’s one I prepared earlier’ recording rather than a follow-up to Sahel Folk.

The title refers to a great dune on the river Niger, said to be the meeting place for powerful wizards. The dune is a local landmark and Gao could do with its mystical properties to work their magic right now, as the city is currently under siege in a three-way war between the Malian government, the Touareg Azawad liberation movement and militant Islamists.

Sidi’s elegantly serpentine melodies, hypnotic blues rhythms and evocative songs – many of which appeal to the spirits for benign protection – are cast in a lighter vein than the work of Ali Farka Touré and perhaps lack some of the master’s sublimity. But it is nevertheless highly potent stuff and a timely reminder of the proud and noble culture of a region that is at present tragically tearing itself apart.