The music biz being what it is, Orchestra Baobab never quite got their due in the West. They disbanded in the mid-1980s, just as more and more people were growing aware that there was music being released all over the world, some of it-– gasp!-– not even in English. Still, the Senegalese group had it better than most. During their initial run, at least, Orchestra Baobab ruled West African pop, and their impact and influence were such the group eventually reconvened, at last getting the star treatment not just locally but around the globe.
Orchestra Baobab's aptly titled 2002 comeback disc, Specialist in All Styles, encapsulated many of the ever-evolving group's strengths, in particular their knack for musical assimilation. Equally informed by Cuban and indigenous African musics, not to mention hybrids like Congolese rumba and Senegal's own pop strain mbalax, the disc found them picking up where they left off. Six years later, Made in Dakar continues the voyage with still more seamless style blending. Of course, nothing here is as crass as, say, rap-metal. Orchestra Baobab's fusion is far more subtle, and always rooted in traditional music. While world music elitists might prefer their sounds obscure, exotic, and mysterious, Orchestra Baobab is so smooth, so deceptively accessible, that for once the liner notes actually significantly enhance the listening experience.
We learn that the lead track, "Pape Ndiaye", stretches back to 1968, and marked one of the first modern updatings of a traditional griot song. We see that "Nijaay" was first performed by Baobab back in 1972; the version here features a cameo from Youssou N'Dour, whose own stardom eventually came to eclipse Baobab. "Beni Baraale" is a tribute to Guinea's equally groundbreaking Bembeya Jazz; Guinea guitarist Baba Nabe joins Baobab guitarist Barthélemy Attisso in what amounts to a tip of the hat by way of ethno-musicology.
Each song here-- with vocals performed in Wolof, Portuguese Creole, French, and Malinke-- is equally rich in history, testament to one of the few positive outcomes of European occupation as they deftly incorporate soul and salsa, rumba and jazz, reggae and country, an exercise in cross-pollination made all the more impressive by the near invisibility of the threads connecting it all. That's ultimately what makes Orchestra Baobab such a joy: It's dance music, pure and simple, made for others to have a good time, easily appreciated on the basis of its musicianship alone (Attisso is particularly inspired throughout) but becoming more impressive the deeper you dig into what's actually being done.
