The fact that this, Tinariwen’s third album, boasts more detailed notes, credits, and lyrics than 2004’s breakthrough Amassakoul hardly dispels the sense of mystery around the astounding guitar-voice-and-percussion band from the southern Saharan region that encompasses parts of Mali, Algeria, and Libya. Tinariwen’s haunting crossroads music is as grave and ultimately unfathomable as Robert Johnson’s Delta blues and Jimi Hendrix’s psychedelic rock, even when the grooves call for dancing.

Sometime-participant Justin Adams’ production adds no gloss to the narrowly and deeply staged sonics.  The acoustic guitar showcases are nuanced and intimate; the band tracks push brigh, morphong electric guitar riffs to the fore while hand drums, traps, handclaps, and high vocal chants and uluations (think The Battle of Algiers) sometimes sound like they’re coming from the back of a classroom-or the shawows beyond a desrt campfire.

A few tunes on this absorbing disc drone starkly like John Hooker or Ali Farka Toure at their most minimalist; others bristle like a cross between Canned Heat and a Toumani Diabate big band; at least one, “Assouf,” recalls Cream (à la “Polititian”) thanks to Eyadou Ag Leche’s melodic bass and Ibrahim Ag Alhabib’s psychedelic wah-wah lead.