"Niane"

While there are many interesting cross-cultural fusions occurring around the planet, one of the most unique, and sonically pleasing, arrives from Senegal. Attending to a lifelong love of Malian blues music, a trip to Morocco forever changed Nuru Kane’s approach to songcraft. Now a resident of France, he was enamored by the trance-like sounds of local Gnawa musicians playing in the market and immediately got his hands on a guimbri, the deep-pitched spike lute favored by the Gnawa.  Forming Bayefall Gnawa (Bayefall after his Sufi faith, Gnawa apparent) the band now debuts with Sigil, an easefully natural meeting ground between pentatonic, blues-like traditional music from Mali and upbeat, hypnotic Moroccan grooves

Kane has long been bent on innovation. While a teenager he formed The African Children to showcase his love for Afrobeat, reggae and funk. His abilities on guitar and bass began early, informed by the likes of Ali Farka Toure (whose sound he evokes beautifully on “Goree”). Now also a patron of Hassan Hakmoun, Kane uses the low-end of the guimbri to create a powerful counterpoint to the gutsy soul in his blues. Both musics create similar emotion:  introspective, heartfelt and, if done correctly, uplifting. Yet their means couldn’t be different. Gnawa is ritual hypnosis; Malian blues is similarly bewitching, though with a deep chest-level pulse. The strings, while higher than the guimbri, can be as penetrating. This, essentially, is the meeting ground Kane creates.

From the gorgeous opener “Toub” something unique arises. This is a distinctly acoustic track, with Kane’s voice as the focal point, as on many of these 13, soul-searching songs. It’s the second song, “Niane,” where the “fusion” occurs—and we have to put this in quotes, as it sounds too natural to imply disparities joining.  Kane’s Bayefall faith professes a kindred unity among all humanity, and he transforms this idea into music.  The blaring roll of the krakebs (metal castanets) below the electrified guitar lines, the call-and-response chorus and the blazing Moroccan lute all indicate a man enthralled with his creation, and rightfully so.  By the time we reach “Cigil,” a Tinariwen influenced number with an incredibly muddy (as in roots, homegrown) guitar solo, we’ve canvassed unheard terrain—not only does Kane work within northern Africa, but invites in a range of talented guests on violin, accordion, oud, n’goni and Welsh flute. 

“I want to play music that all people of the world can come and hear,” Kane told me from his studio an hour outside of Paris. “Sometimes in Africa people want to make fusion, but it is very difficult. I wanted to make a music that takes the Arabic side of Northern Africa and the blues of Central Africa.” During our long conversation a pleasant reality manifested: Kane the man is as informed and passionate as the artist on Sigil. With most, we hope this to be the case, and one listen to this visionary recording hints toward an open-minded approach to songwriting and life. With a debut as stunning as this, Kan is helping Africa to become a whole lot smaller, and closer to us all. 

Contributed by: Derek Beres for www.afropop.org