A decade or two ago, there was a sort of modern folk tale circulating around Northern Africa about a town in the Atlas Mountains whose former residents were experiencing great difficulty remaining dead. Apparently, the village’s deceased had the nasty habit of getting back up and going about their business shortly after having expired. Eventually, as the story went, a local government official was forced to pay a visit to the town in order to explain to its inhabitants that when they ceased to breathe, they should do their absolute best to remain horizontal.

The tale of the stubborn dead of the Atlas Mountains is a good story to keep in mind while listening to Aman Iman: Water is Life (on the World Village label) by Tinariwen: a recording so completely "feral" that you can almost hear the night wind howling across the barren lands of Northern Mali in the background (once again proving that a rock band should, at all times, be surrounded by actual rocks). Relentless, mesmerizing traditional rhythms interweave themselves with the chantlike vocals, occasionally accompanied by a choir of what can only be the ghostly children from the highly underrated Blair Witch sequel, while band leader Ibrahim "Abaraybone" Alhabib peppers the compositions with wild, bluesy riffs courtesy of his Danelectro guitar. Tinariwen has a fuzzbox and a healthy love of ululation — and they're not afraid to use, either. It's almost as if '60s surf band The Ventures had teamed up with the Manson Family Singers and the Sun Ra Orchestra to invoke the great horned-God Pan.

Yes, it's that good. Or, to put it another way: Until we can find a technique by which to easily grind up Aman Iman and snort it, we'll all just have to make due with crystal meth. It's going to take an army of Peace Corps volunteers, armed with some pretty convincing PowerPoint presentations, to quiet the restless dead raised by Tinariwen.