Malian Troubadour Makes A Strong Return

HABIB KOITE & BAMADA
Afriki

At a recent press-only showcase organized in New York City by Cumbancha Records, Habib Koite made it abundantly clear that even though six years have passed since his last studio recording {2001’s Baro), he still has plenty to communicate about his native country of Mali and its role in the future of the African continent. Afriki, which means "Africa" in the Bambara language, is Koite's latest release, and his personal musical tour around Mali. It's imprinted with the rhythms of its various peoples, and sung and arranged with very little fanfare, but with the strongest of emotion.

Whether he sings in French, Bambara or other African languages, Koite creates a serene and intimate sound, and his lyrics are contemplative if not profound. Supported by Bamada—his longstanding acoustic band of African players—he brings a now familiar approach to Afriki, tapping into his great abilities as a composer as well as his haunting vocals and virtuosic, refined acoustic guitar work.

More than mere formulaic Afropop, Afriki also has innovation. Koite introduces a Wassoulou women's chorus on "Namania" to positive effect, and there's an elusive fullness to his voice on certain tunes, where he seems to be intensifying the way he uses timbre and range. On "N'Tesse (I Cannot)"—an appeal to his fellow Malians to take on their compatriots' problems as their own—Koite utilizes his wide-ranging voice by cultivating some hoarse and persuasive undertones, but he keeps the heat down by never betraying the intimacy of the vocal, even as he subtly and seductively boosts the vibrato. The theme of Africans needing to muster their forces to overcome their most seemingly intractable problems—AIDS, poverty, corruption, infant mortality, and more—permeates Koite's work, and this cry for help and justice is offset on "N'Tesse" by a soft (maybe too soft) chorus. His appeal is never strident, and it's almost always tempered.

"Mali Ba (Mali the Bull)" and "Barra (Work)" are two of the real standout tunes on the album. With its multiple changes in mood, arrangement and dynamics, "Mali Ba" always has something going on, but it unfolds within an easy folk-rock sensibility. "Barra," meanwhile, is bluesy and tangy; along with "Nta Dima (I Will Not Give Her To You)," it's easily one of the most rootsy tunes on Afriki. The song gets most of its punch from Barou Kouyate's n'goni, which seduces Koite's guitar into its dry, creaky orbit. (The n'goni is a stringed instrument that resembles the lute in shape, with a unique sound that invokes the range of a very resonant fiddle.)

There's virtually no filler among the 11 cuts, although the seemingly requisite reggae tune "N'Ba" might quality. After a promising guitar intro, Koite defaults into a predictable one-drop reggae rhythm and a repetitive chorus, which unfortunately undercuts the song's beautiful sentiment: while grieving over his mother's recent death, Koite traces the path of memory back to his own birth and to the great feeling of hope his mother had for her son. "Nta Dima," on the other hand, holds up musically, but with a mixed message. The song's narrator admirably seeks to shield a young girl from possible harm at the hands of unsuitable marriage partners—without questioning the traditional right of a father to "give away" his daughter as if she were a piece of property.

In the end, Afriki transcends these minor shortcomings with tight, heartfelt musicianship and just a hint of something new. After a few listens, Habib Koite's fans will almost certainly be reminded of the old adage, "Absence makes the heart grow fonder," while those who are new to his music might be won over from the start.

-by CAROL AMORUSO