Elsewhere: Tropical sounds for rainy days

By GRAHAM REID

Oumou Sangare: Oumou

(World Circuit/Elite)

Maria De Barros: Nha Mundo

(Narada)

Arthur Verocai: Arthur Verocai

(Luv N Haight/Flavour)

If the moving voice of Mali's Sangare has somehow gone past you - and this is her first new album in about eight years, so it's likely - here is the pick-up point: a double CD which mixes new material with a dozen tracks from three previous albums compiled by London radio DJ Charlie Gillett and Nick Gold, the producer/label manager who brought you Buena Vista Social Club and Orchestra Baobab among many other world-music classic albums.

From southern Mali, Sangare possesses a strong and agile voice which is grounded in tradition but picked up on her regional style - wassoulou, popular among younger people in the 80s.

She married it to songs about the oppression of women ("Since childhood I've always hated polygamy") and a recently developed lute-like instrument, the kamalngoni, which has a lively sound for dancing and a deep bass-like funk quality with its thick strings. You can hear it on the mesmerising Mogo Te Diya Bee Ye, a song she heard in childhood.

Of the older tracks included are her '89 breakthrough hit, the uplifting and sensual Diaraby Nene (Love Fever or The Shivers of Passion) and the sad, anxiety-filled Djorolen (Worry, ) which are indicative of her breadth.

Sangare is also musically ambitious: on her '86 album Worotan, four tracks of which are included on this, she had a three-piece horn section led by Pee Wee Ellis - and here she pulls in strings for a couple of tracks. Djorolen also reappears in a remix.

A double album is a long haul in unfamiliar, English-free territory and this may be the only Sangare you need. Her commanding voice over the top of simmering kamalngoni, electric guitar, bass and gentle percussion make for something quite special and rare.

Given recent odds, it's probably raining as you read this, but maybe music can be the sunshine of your life. The self-titled album by Tribalistas from Brazil and Cesaria Evora's Voz D'Amor (both recently reviewed here) are bringing some warmth and light to stereos tuned for the soon-to-come summer, and the exoticism of Sangare and de Barros can certainly fuel the feeling also.

De Barros was born in Senegal and moved around, including time in Rhode Island, but, like her godmother Evora, her home is in Cape Verde, a cultural crossroads for Portuguese, Argentinian and Cuban musics.

Evora is the elder stateswoman and often sings of the hardships of her life and people, but de Barros' experience was different: "My childhood was wonderful ... and it is my hope and sincere wish to expose people to the sensuality and joie de vivre that is the foundation of Cape Verdean life." Certainly this vibrant debut - mostly sung in a Portuguese-based dialect - has a life-affirming feel despite the occasional plaintive ballad. The sprightly guitars, accordion, high Spanish trumpets and the occasional sweeping string section add to an atmosphere of tropicality.

The title means "my world" and hers sounds a warm and breezy place, much like we all deserve right now.

As obscure as they come, Arthur Verocai is a reissue of a '72 album by a musically ambitious Brazilian who dared to be different under a military dictatorship and release an album with obliquely political messages. Which is all very worthy, but what is here is also a unique slice of Latin-flavoured orchestrated funk, which had an ear on big US bands like Chicago.

It's a bit all over the shop picking up lavish string parts and close harmonies from 70s Airto/Flora Purim albums as much as wah-wah pedals and soaring sax solos, which wouldn't have been amiss in a blaxploitation flick. But it's kinda fun, and you'd be unwise to bet on what the next track is going to sound like.

It reaches for the stars but, despite the stacked up musicians which include 12 violins, four violas and four cellos in some places, it also has a budget production quality which only adds to the overall sense of urgency and risk.

Tracks don't outstay their welcome - Seriado gets the business done in less than two minutes - and this whole strange, slightly baffling but always engrossing journey has you in and out in less than half an hour. Which makes you want to hit the repeat or random more than is perhaps healthy. Oddly compelling, as they say.

Also ran ...

Javier Ruibal's debut album Sahara (Riverboat) is for lovers of passionate North African/Spanish guitar augmented by dramatic piano flourishes, horns, handclaps and Ruibal's insistent vocals, all of which doubtless sound less demanding in a bodega at midnight when red wine is running hot through the veins.

Dub collections are common so the double-disc Dub Sessions (Union Square/Triton) has its work cut out to make an impression. But it's a sizeable chunk of deep dub from famous names - King Tubby, Yabby You, Augustus Pablo, Prince Jammy - and despite having listened to it a few times I can't remember anything much. Recommendation for dub collections doesn't come much higher than that.

You saw the movie (maybe) in the film festival, now hear the album: Amandla! A Revolution in Four-Part Harmony (ATO/Rhythmethod) is the soundtrack of yearning and celebratory pre-Rainbow Nation music from black South Africans, which includes Miriam Makeba, the great jazz pianist Abdullah Ibrahim, Hugh Masekela and various choirs. A powerful postcard from a sadder, more shameful world, with good liner notes.