In 1960, Mali won its independence from France. It was an exciting time in West Africa, as the colonial governments pulled out, and the first generation of post-independence African leaders translated a wave of African cultural pride into public policy. In Mali, as in its neighbors, then-President Modibo Keita pursued a rigorous program of nationalization and socialization, and he encouraged development of the arts. Musicians were told to modernize the country's traditional music. Much as in Guinea next door, a system of regional orchestras was established.
But modernizing the traditional music of Mali wasn't exactly a simple task-- the country is a swirl of different cultures, ethnicities, languages, and traditions. In the city of Mopti, at the confluence of the Bani and Niger Rivers, a young bandleader, singer, and flutist named Sorry Bamba jumped on board the modernization train with gusto. His band eventually became the Regional Orchestra of Mopti (Mopti is an administrative region in central Mali as well as a city), and Bamba worked hard to encompass the diversity of his region in his music. Volume One, assembled by Thrill Jockey with involvement from Bamba himself, covers music from Bambara, Fula, and Dogon traditions, updated with electric guitars and organs during the 1970s. By the time this music was made, Keita was in a prison in Kidal, having been overthrown in 1968 by General Moussa Traoré, who ruled the country as a police state until 1991 but continued many cultural programs.
One of Bamba's greatest cultural coups was to get the Dogon people to accept him and teach him their songs. A cliff-dwelling people who lived for centuries along the Bandiagara Escarpment, the Dogon had long kept their religious rituals and customs mysterious to outsiders. But they let Bamba in, giving him such songs as "Sayouwé", which honors ancestors, and in return he renamed the Regional Orchestra Kanaga Orchestra after the creator god of Dogon myth. "Sayouwé" is included here, and it has an unusual drum rhythm that the band turns into something like funk with guitar and a bit of spacey organ. That same tripped-out organ is the main texture on "Porry", a slow-burner that also features a great Afro-Cuban trumpet solo by Bamba himself. The momentum it has might be best described by comparing it to walking when you're tired; it becomes almost more like repeatedly catching yourself in mid-fall than locomotion.
Overall, this compilation explores an intriguing discography that, more than many, really feels like a meeting of folk styles and modern instrumentations. Bamba makes little overt attempt to funk up or psychedelicize the music, and where those qualities are found, it's an organic outgrowth of the old music he was working with. There are lots of call-and-response vocals, snaking horn sections, guitars dripping with reverb, and hand percussion. I love African funk, rock, Afrobeat, and the like, but it's nice to hear a compilation that's so dedicated to music so wholly African (and in a couple of cases, Afro-Cuban) in its construction. If you've found your way into vintage African pop music and are looking to go a little deeper, this set is one good way to do it.
