Salif Keita releases his new album “La Difference” on June 8, 2010.  This is the third Keita release to feature a largely acoustic band, rich with traditional African instruments.  This album, like “Moffou” and “M’Bemba” before it, was mostly recorded at Keita’s own studio in Bamako, Mali.  While the lush acoustic soundscape of the new recording will sound familiar, this is a ground-breaking album for Mali’s most successful singer.  For the first time, Keita sings about the deeply personal and painful subject of albinism.  That’s the “difference” referred to in the album’s title, and Keita is out to celebrate not stigmatize it.  Afropop’s Banning Eyre reached Keita by telephone in Paris for a brief chat about the album and Keita’s upcoming US tour, which includes a stop at New York’s Central Park Sumerstage on Sunday, June 20.

B.E.:  Salif!

S.K.:  Banning, how are you?

B.E.:  Very well.  The new disc is fantastic. I've just received it, but I listen three times in the last twenty-four hours.  And I understand you will be coming to visit us in New York soon.

S.K.:  That's right. In Central Park.

B.E.:  We're looking forward to it.  But first let's talk about this record. For me, it is a record with a big idea behind it, this idea of singing about albinism. Obviously this has been a huge part of your life, but why did you decide to sing about it now?

S.K.:  Because before, for me, I was a person like anyone else.  I was a normal person.  I wanted to live my life without complaining about my albinism as if it was a handicap.  But now, so many things are happening to albinos.  There are too many massacres.  There are human sacrifices.  They are victims everywhere.  It's too much. I had to say something.  It was time to speak out.

B.E.:  So events made you do this.  Can you give me an example?

S.K.:  For example, in Tanzania there have been massacres, people killing albinos to sell their arms, their feet.  To sell their hair.  Everything.  Maybe you've heard about this.

B.E.:  I have actually.

S.K.:  Killing people to sell their parts.  In East Africa, this is happening now.  And sacrifices.  They kill people, sell their blood, sell their brains.  As if they were animals.  So the more I'm hearing about this, finally I had to say something.  It was time to speak up.  Because as long as this is going on, we have to stop it.  One person should not be killing another for sacrifice. We're in the 21st century.  This is not normal, but it is going on.  It has to stop.  People cannot sacrifice each other.

B.E.:  This is the subject of the first song on your CD, the title song "La Difference.”  What does the song actually say?

S.K.:  “La Difference.”  For me, when a person is different from other people, this is not a malediction. No.  One is different from others simply because God has done things differently. A man is not the same as a woman.  Women have valor all their own.  Blacks and white are different.  That's good.  That's beautiful for me.  Life is beautiful because we are different.  If we were all the same all the time, I don't think people would like it, because everything would be the same all the time. That's it.

B.E.:  I understand you have created a foundation in service of albino people. Tell me about that.

S.K.:  The foundation, yes.  Everything we do is about giving the same love to albinos that we give to other people.  So we try to care for their needs.  For example, we're always looking for sun cream to protect the skin.  Because they easily contract skin cancer, even at a young age, since their skin is so sensitive to the sun.  So we buy and distribute a lot of sun cream.  We also help in other practical ways, for example making sure that albino kids get enrolled in school.

B.E.:  You yourself must be quite a symbol of hope and optimism for albino people in Africa?  Your story must be very inspiring to them.

S.K.:  Yes. For sure.  And it's nice to know that someone is looking out for you.  For me, it is a kind of paying back, something I have to do.

B.E.:  It must be very satisfying too.

S.K.:  Yes, yes, yes, on a deep personal level.

B.E.:  Let's talk about some of the other songs on this CD.  On a few songs here, you are drawing from Middle Eastern and Arab music. That's something new for you.

S.K.:  Yes. I think that Middle Eastern music has a lot of resemblance with West African music. And I've been really happy to blend oriental and West African music, because they go together so well.

B.E.:  The song “Gaffou” features beautiful oud playing by Mehdi Haddab, what does that song say?

S.K.:  It's an homage to a person, to someone who has been very nice to me.  I love her for that, and I wanted to thank her. Her name is Awa.  But everyone who is called Awa is also Gaffou.  Gaffou is a general appellation for Awa. 

B.E.:  There is also an oriental feeling in the song “Samigna.”

S.K.:  “Samigna” is taken out of the song “Sunjata,” the song for the greatest West African conqueror, Sunjata Keita.  So as the Malinke people were very close to oriental music—Middle Easter music, Andalusian music, Spanish, flamenco….  All those things, we combined them in order to create a new sonority.

B.E.:  It is really beautiful. And what does that word “Samigna” mean?

S.K.:  “Samigna” is the vernage, the rainy season.  When the rain arrives, all the farmers go out into the fields. No one stays in the house. 

B.E.:  I really like this song “San Ka Na.”  And I hear the musicianship of my friend, your fantastic kamelengoni player Harouna Samake on this song.

S.K.:  Ah, yes.  “San Ka Na” talks about rain, and the environment.  We must preserve our garden. We have to do everything to prevent the environment for becoming polluted, and to be sure it is not all used up.  We see so much degradation of nature due to indifference of powerful people.  Because no one can live in a destroyed environment. Pollution is spreading. The desert is advancing.  We can't live this way. We come from the earth, and if it disappears, then we disappear also.

B.E.:  Overall, this is a very serious album, but there is one real dance song here.  What does “Ekolo D’Amour” say?

S.K.:  It’s love.  Love without regard for circumstance. Whether you are poor or not, give love.  If you find someone who has love, you are lucky.  “Ekolo d’Amour” is 100% love. It's the real love.

B.E.:  On the song “Djele” you feature the great balafon maestro Keletigui Diabaté.

S.K.:  Ah, “Djelé.”  Yes, Keletigui is there.  That is also a love song.  The attachment and the sincerity between my love and me means I'm ready to do everything, buy plane tickets for her to be at my side, in the West, in the United States, wherever I go in the world.  It's a love song.

B.E.:  Is the first time you've recorded with Keletigui?

S.K.:  Yes.

B.E.:  So I have to ask you this.  When will the moment come for Salif and Djelimady [Tounkara] to record together?  You have Toumani, and now Keletigui.  You need Djelimady! 

S.K.:  Djelimady?  I will do something with Djelimady. 

B.E.:  Okay, Salif.  I’m going to hold you to that.

S.K.:  Okay, okay, okay.  You will see.

B.E.:  Okay, we’ll stay tuned on that.  Salif, you make new versions of three songs on this record.  The version of “Folon” with Bill Frisell and Seb Martin on guitars is especially beautiful.

S.K.:  Because “Folon” is not a song you can forget.  It talks about freedom. It talks about independence. It talks about democracy, the coming of democracy in Africa.

B.E.:  Musically, this new version is really class.  Those guys play with such restraint and so much taste.  Where did you do this?

S.K.:  That was done in Paris.

B.E.:  You also do a very nice remake of “Seydou.”  This one goes way back, doesn’t it.

S.K.:  “Seydou” yes.  “Seydou” talks about someone who really cared for Les Ambassadeurs du Motel in the ‘60s.  Because you know, music was not a good profession then. So you had people who helped us by giving us money.  They took care of us.  And he above all really helped me.  So as he is still alive, I decided to thank him again by remaking the song.

B.E.:  And once again, the new version is very different, and very rich.

S.K.:  Thank you.

B.E.:  And “Papa” too.  You have a new, very serene version of “Papa.”

S.K.:  “Papa.”  I can never forget my father, Banning. He means so much to me.  I can never say enough about him. 

B.E.:  This is a really personal record, isn't it?

S.K.:  It is a very personal.  Very personal.

B.E.:  More than most of the others.

S.K.:  Yes, more than the others.

B.E.:  And it really seems like you have arrived at a stable sound now.  These last three records, Moffou, M’Bemba and this one, all use this very organic, acoustic sound with lots of traditional instruments mixed with the electronic ones.  You've played so many different sounds throughout your career.  Do you feel like you've now really found the sound, or can we expect more changes in the future?

S.K.:  Well, if I change, I won't go far from this.  I don’t want to lose this. It's a pure sound.  It's something really close to me.  It's as much in tradition as it is in modernity.  Everything is there.  I won't go too far from this.

B.E.:  If we listen to all your records, you have done so many different things, so many experiments. But this doesn't feel like an experiment anymore, it feels like you've really found your sound.

S.K.:  Yes.  That's right.  For a long time, I was always looking for the real sound I should be playing.  Now I feel like I've found the sound.