Elsewhere: Blurring bounds of Mali sounds

By GRAHAM REID

For an impoverished country, the drought-stricken West African state of Mali - population 10.5 million, area about four times that of New Zealand - has produced many talented musicians. Proof again that money and music are not essential bedmates as we believe in a world which boasts a "music industry".

Music isn't much of an industry in Mali (although there are record companies) but is simply part of the social weave. In Manding culture, the caste of professional musicians, jalis, was attached to royal courts as musicians laureate who would sing stories about significant events.

The most popular instrument of the jalis is the kora, that distinctive sounding harp-type lute with dozens of strings. The balafon (a wooden xylophone) is another common jali instrument with a warm, resonant sound.

Of course, Mali music isn't all rooted in the past, there are some rocking big bands (Cuban music was a big influence half a century ago) and groups like the Rail Band in the 70s pulled together Afro-soul funk and traditional Manding instruments alongside wah-wah peddles. Very cool.

Yep, Mali might be among the five poorest nations on the planet (1000 years ago it was one of the most wealthy when it was on the Saharan trade routes) but it is almost unnaturally blessed with musicians, many of whom have become familiar in the west.

Kora master Foday Musa Suso has performed with the Kronos Quartet; the albino singer Salif Keita, whose anthemic Tomorrow featured at the close of the movie Ali, has released many well-received albums; and Ali Farka Toure's work with Ry Cooder (on the superb Talking Timbuktu of 95) and various Chieftains (The River) has taken him to an international audience. Toure's vocals are often heard as a direct link to the blues of John Lee Hooker or Lightnin' Hopkins.

It hasn't been overly difficult to find albums by Fanta Damba, Oumou Sangare, kora player Toumani Diabate, or balafon master and singer Mory Kante either. A few years ago Hemisphere released an excellent compilation, Electric and Acoustic Mali, worth seeking out.

Malian melodies have depth and charm, its singers can be quiet and subtle or gruff and direct in the manner of acoustic blues, and, of course, there's an exoticism to the instrumentation and unusual languages. It's music for the intellectually curious which is perhaps why it appealed to Blur frontman and Gorillaz member Damon Albarn who, in July 2000, travelled to Mali for Oxfam but also took along a tape recorder and his instrument of choice, a melodica.

He sat in with the famous (Toumani Diabate, Afel Bocoum, Kasse Mady Diabate among them) and played alongside unknown street musicians, and on his return to London had 40 hours of music on tape. He remixed some tracks, left others as they were, added dreamy Bowie-esque vocal embellishments in a couple of places, and then flicked them back to Mali to the musicians so they could have a fiddle as well. The result, Mali Music (through EMI), is an engaging collection which connects Mali music with other styles such as ambient, dub, blues and even hints of universal folk.

"My idea is to set up loads of dialogues between this music and other music that I love," says Albarn. "I'm sick of the cultural self-assurance you get in the West. I want to get everyone into Malian music."

By its somewhat obscure nature the album won't have that admirable effect, but it is a seductive introduction to various sounds and styles of that beautiful, blighted country.

Albarn mostly takes a back seat, while the bass of Junior Dan (especially on the spaghetti-western sound of Le Relax and The Djembe) launches the connection with dub - Dan was melodica player Augustus Pablo's bassist for many years - and there's a dream-like quality about it, as if on reflection Albarn was half-remembering his time in the sun as a waking fantasy.

As a result of the multiple handling, it's hard to make the case that this is "authentic" Mali music, whatever that might be, but it's what he heard and played which has been refracted through prisms of perspective.

At its centre - 4am at Toumanis and Institut National des Arts with its processed piano a la Eno - it reaches into collective memory and there are pop melodies throughout, even if they are played on odd instruments, although Albarn may borrow a melodic line from Sting's Fields of Gold once too often.

Mali Music might not have you racing out for a Kasse Mady Diabate album, but as a heartfelt exploration of Mali music and what might be done with it, it stands as unique, respectful, yet prepared to look into some contemporary possibilities for traditional music.