Renayate

Houria Aïchi’s reputation has been built on her performances of songs from her native Aurès, the mountainous region in the east of Algeria. Renayate had its beginnings in a one-off concert in the Arles Festival; it’s a new departure for the singer and pays tribute to some of the foremost Algerian female singers of the last 80 years. The breadth of original styles that she draws on – from the melismatic Andalous singing of Meriem Fekkaï to Cheikha Rimitti’s gritty snarl – would be a considerable challenge for any performer and Aïchi wisely avoids pastiche, interpreting all the songs in her own way. She is accompanied by an eclectic four-piece band playing oud (Arab lute), percussion, ney flute and piano which can, by turns, sound either authentically stark or decadently lush – especially when Samil Benhoubou’s jazz keyboard skills are given full rein.

Aïchi is undoubtedly a striking and thoughtful singer. However, part of Algerian urban music’s enduring appeal is the magpie way in which it embraces different musical influences; much of that colour and diversity has been bled from the songs on this album. You might even find yourself yearning for the Bontempi organ crimes that blighted many rai tracks in the 90s.