Oumou Sangaré was born in 1968, and she was an acclaimed singer by the end of 1973. Today, Sangaré is an elder stateswoman of Malian music, in particular the updated pop descendants of the traditional hunting songs of the Wassoulou region. She is immensely popular in her homeland-- her 1989 debut album, Moussoulou ("Women"), sold an astonishing 250,000 official copies, mostly in Africa, where bootleg cassettes account for an enormous percentage of sales. She's earned her place among West Africa's musical elite, and Seya should solidify her place abroad as well, with its seamless mix of old and new sounds that give her an arresting, sometimes haunting backdrop for her confident vocals and activist lyrics, sung in several languages.
Sangaré gets a hand from a whopping 47 collaborators on the album, including master guitarist Djelimady Tounkara, Fred Wesley, Pee Wee Ellis, and Tony Allen. Most appear on a track or two, and mixed in with all the electric guitar, bass, flute, sax, and trap drums are a host of traditional Malian instruments, including the ngoni (a cousin of the guitar and banjo), the balafon (a type of marimba), and an arsenal of drums and percussion that give the album a diverse and always interesting rhythmic base. It opens with a blast of rhythmic balafon and dives into a fractured groove topped with an arcing flute, as Sangaré sings a forceful appeal for women's equality in society and the home. Women's rights are an issue she's built her public life and much of her music around, and it's a theme that crops up across the album.
"Wele Wele Wintou" sets dark female harmonies against a sharp sax theme behind Sangaré's rapid-fire vocal, which speaks out against forced marriage. Subtle wah guitar burbles through the verses, and Tounkara takes one of the most unusual solos I've heard, playing far down the neck with a dark, blunt tone. You could probably listen to just the instrumental backing tracks to most of these songs and come away satisfied by the richness of the interlocking rhythms and the subtle harmonic shifts. Even slow tracks like "Senkele Te Sira", which features another brilliant guitar part from Tounkara, have a dynamic, vibrant character that perfectly matches Sangaré's sometimes towering vocals. She knows how to accent a phrase, unleashing a powerful wail at key moments to drive home a thought in a way that makes her passion clear in any language.
