"IF WE are rebels, then we are rebels of the soul." So says Faada Fredy, spokesman of Senegalese hip-hop crew, Daara J, en route between the BBC in London and the first gig of their African Soul Rebels tour with French- Algerian rocker Rachid Taha, below, and Malian guitar poets Tinariwen. It’s an explosive triple bill which will blast open the cliché that world music is nothing more than an ethnic stronghold.

Many will remember Daara J as the funky trio who, as "Best African Act", opened the BBC Radio 3 World Music Awards concert at Edinburgh’s Usher Hall last March. However, this will be the first visit of Taha and Tinariwen to Scotland. Each of the three groups has a cutting-edge, multi-lingual message. Fredy (who speaks Wolof, French, English and Spanish) reminds me that Daara J’s name means "school of life".

"With our rap we are not into bling-bling, gangsta culture or misogynism. In that sense the African message is the opposite to the American: the form is similar, the content is different because the reality is different," Fredy says. "We are more social and political because we are facing problems like corruption and Aids, race and ethnic wars and hunger. We build on an ancient rhythmic poetry called tassu, passed from father to son. It’s the essence of traditions originally taken by slaves to the USA where rap and hip-hop have evolved. That’s why we called our first album Boomerang, because, as we say, ‘Born in Africa, brought up in America, hip hop has come full circle.’"

Rachid Taha was also born in Africa but over from the west, to the north, in Oran in Algeria. When he moved with his parents to live in a village in eastern France in 1968, he says that, as an immigrant, he "felt like a rat in a cage looking for an escape route". Taha describes his music as like "a Pakistani corner shop. You can find everything in there." His Arabic cover of The Clash’s Rock The Casbah is his way of acknowledging that his inspiration comes less from Algerian Rai music than from people like Joe Strummer, who he met briefly in Paris in 1981. "That song is very ironic, maybe even racist. It seems to be a parody of the West’s view of the Arabic world as an oil pump and nothing more, completely devoid of culture."

Taha puts his beliefs into practice. "In the 1980s I opened my own club in Lyons because North Africans weren’t allowed into mainstream nightclubs. I played everything from Egyptian diva Oum Koulthoum to Kraftwerk. It became a home to all outsiders and minorities: Arabs, punks, gays, whoever. Politics forced us together, and now I make music for everybody who feels that way." He describes his latest album, Tékitoi (the title means "Who the Hell are you?") as him singing his nightmares. He not only takes a stand against racism, corruption and warmongers but also challenges aspects of his North African heritage, particularly Arabic use of poetic metaphor. "The problem with metaphor is that it can usually only be understood by a minority, an educated elite. I want to communicate directly with the man on the street, even if that means talking in a brutal way sometimes. Too many metaphors lead to war."

Echoing Taha but in more meandering, soulful guitar-slinging songwriter-style, are Tinariwen, who came together in a refugee camp in Libya in 1981. Their story is intertwined with the history of Mali’s Tuareg rebellions, which lasted for three decades until the mid-1990s, when a newly-elected democratic government ended long-standing political oppression. Nowadays, having laid down their guns, Tinariwen’s desert blues music is their only weapon, and their latest album, Amassakoul, has been hailed as a new benchmark for African music. Working with French band Lo-Jo and musicians from northern Mali, Mauritania and Niger, they’ve drawn the likes of Robert Plant to the trailblazing Festival In The Desert they founded three years ago west of Timbuctu. Building on an existing gathering of nomadic Tuaregs called a temakannit, it attracts many more people on camels than it does intrepid travellers in four- wheel drive vehicles.

Each of the three groups have contrasting styles of music, each equally rousing: rock’n’roller Taha can be darkly edgy; Tinariwen play funky blues; while Daara J offer positive force. "Bob Marley has been a huge inspiration," says Fredy. "One of our most important songs is Exodus, as there are so many African immigrants moving round the world today. We are here to show a new generation’s image of Africa. Senegal is a beautiful country. We Senegalese are renowned or our hospitality and generosity. It’s something that we inherit from our ancestors and something we transmit even on stage. Sometimes the rich countries live in some kind of depression - money cannot bring everything. We can offer our positive spirit."

-Jan Fairley