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Baye Kouyate, Brooklyn NY, December 2008

| Place and Date: |
Brooklyn 2008 |
| Interviewer: |
Zach Lichtstrahl |
It was a brisk fall day when I met with Baye Kouyate a few blocks from New York City's Union Square. Coincidentally, we were walking down opposite sides of the street when we made eye contact across the busy 14th Street intersection. Somehow he knew who I was without ever meeting, and both our faces lit up with welcoming smiles. I had heard Baye was a nice, humble guy, and that immediately became crystal clear.
What I already knew was that Baye is a very unique talking drum player from Bamako, Mali. He first moved to the states in 2004, eventually becoming a Brooklyn resident and a staple band leader at Zebulon Cafe, a world music club in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. After countless shows and the recent release of his album, "Danama," in June 2008, Baye recently married in November and now spends his time between Tampa, Florida and Brooklyn. Baye is a finalist for best World Fusion artist at the Independent Music Artist (IMA) awards, which is judged by a panel of artists that includes Peter Gabriel.
This nomination is well-deserved, as Baye's performances are highly energized explosions of lightning-fast talking drum solos backed by an upbeat dance band. Their sound is infectious and enchanting, compelling you to sing and dance along, and enter a world of Malian peace and love.
Z.L.: Since this is a pivotal time in your career, lets start from the beginning at Zebulon Cafe. Could you tell us a bit about what it is like for you there, and how you met with the owners?
B.K. To me, Zebulon is one of the best places for live music in New York City. When I came to the United States in 2004, my uncle Cheick Tidiane Seck, used to come there. He had a lot of different musicians who he used to play with in the city. One of them is Daniel Moreno, a great percussionist, and Cheick gave me his information. One day, in 2005, Daniel was playing at Zebulon and he called me to come play with him. Afterwards, I met one of the owners of Zebulon, Jeff Soubiran, and he said, "Wow you're great, where are you from?" It was very easy for me to speak with him because at that moment I didn't speak any English, just a couple of words like,"How ya doin. How are you?," and it was easy 'cause he speaks French, and I lived in Paris for 5 years. He said, "Well, if you have an African band you can come here. We have the space to play," so I said "Okay," and we exchanged numbers. One day he called me and said, "Hey, what are you doing? Come play," and I said, "Okay, give me one day and I'm gonna call the people from Mali who live here."
One of the first musicians, a very nice guy, he is like my brother (you know in Africa we call each other brothers). He's a really great musician named Yacouba Sissoko. He plays the Kora, 21 string -- very nice. Then I met Balla Kouyate, he is a very amazing Balaphone player from Mali too, and Makane Kouyate, an amazing, amazing drummer and Djembe player. So we four went to Zebulon. We didn't rehearse, we just went in there and played, and everybody loved it, and the people at Zebulon liked it. Afterward, they asked me to give the name of the band, so I was just thinking, "Oh, my name is Baye, Baye Kouyate, so I said, 'Baye Kouyate et Les Tougarakes'." Tougarakes means someone who travels around the world and lives in a country that is not their own. So anybody in this world, it doesn't matter where you are from, if you are white, if you are black, if you live in any country that is not your country, you become Tougarakes. So to me in this world, everyone is Tougarakes, and at that point I just said, "Baye Kouyate et Les Tougarakes."
So I built a relationship with the people from Zebulon. It is a very nice, cool bar, you know? It's happy [and] it's the best place to me. I started building a relationship over there with Jeff and Giome Blestel, and these people introduced me to many people. When I play at Zebulon, I feel like I am in the best space in my life. Basically I built my relationships in New York City on Zebulon. It's my hometown, and the people there -- they are my family.
Z.L.: Where did you grow up?
B.K.: I grew up in Bamako, the capital [of Mali]. My father comes from Kangaba and my mother from Segu, so I have a big culture. The Bamana is my mother's culture, and the Manding is where my father comes from. These two cultures are very different because in Mali we have the Manding, which was the first empire of Mali and then after that the Bambara [came], so the languages are almost the same thing but the dialects are different. It's like when you talk about British English and American English. Mandingo and Bambara have the same words but different accentuation.
Z.L.: Do you consider yourself a part of both cultures?
B.K.: No. I consider myself Griot, and I consider myself Malian, and African and a child of the world. If the griot makes peace in our culture, then I am going to make peace in this world with my music by sharing with different cultures to make this life beautiful. I think this world is beautiful and it's important for people to know, and share, and listen to music, and take the hands of each other, you know? Why are they fighting, why? There is no reason. That's why Danama is like who you can trust. That's the whole thing.
Z.L.: Where is everyone from in your current group?
B.K.: The people I have working with me are: Leni Stern from Germany, she's lived here for a long time, and she has worked with a lot of different musicians. Her husband also played with Miles Davis. Shanir Ezra Blumenkranz is the Bass player, and he is from Denmark. One of his parents is from Liberia. I have a mixed group. I also have two people from Guinea and one from Senegal. When I had the original band we were all from Mali -- it was all Malian music.
Z.L.: Tell us a bit about your latest album "Danama." What does the name mean, and why did you choose it?
B.K.: You know, in this world, it is really, really important to know who it is that you can trust because in this world it is really hard [to know]. Why do we kill each other? For money. If you and me work together as businessmen, and we don't trust each other, we cannot work. If you build a relationship between woman and man, and there is no trust, the relationship cannot work. Right now I am right here. What can my wife think I am doing? What I can I think she is doing? We have ten thousand people around us that we can trust, but it is hard to find those people. That's the main thing. For example, today I am here talking with you, sharing my life, telling you who I am because I trust you, but I don't really know who you are. That comes from my heart. So in this world, human people forget something: the best things are close to us. We look far away and we are not satisfied.
My [wife] and I, when we met, she said, "I am going to help to produce your music." My relationship comes from the name of this CD, "who you can trust" -- Danama. But you never know who is putting up a front with you. That means it's no small world, it's no tall world. Sometimes you say, "It's a small world, I can jump," but when you try to jump, you fall. People in this world, they are like the five fingers on a hand. This is short, this is short, this is long, this is short, this is long. This one cannot take anything alone. You need the others to take. They need to work together.
Z.L.: Tell us about your incorporation of traditional Mali music.
B.K.: First of all, I am Griot. The griot is the one history-teller, and peacemaker, who gives love and peace. I grew up with a big family, and they taught us love, they taught us music, and they taught us sharing. All this education comes from our culture, our tradition. It's important to say, in our culture, traditions do a lot of good things, but it's also important to see that the traditions do bad things too. So from my young age, I took the good things and I brought this part of our tradition to different continents. I love our tradition because our culture is huge, and our ancestors were very, very smart to give us such a big thing. That's why I love it. I love to share my culture, to give what I know. My culture is very beautiful, and so are many other cultures.
Z.L.: Mali certainly has a strong cultural presence in World Music. Do you think that the Griot has helped to keep Mali culture strong?
B.K.: The griot helps to keep Mali music very strong. It's not just the music, it's everything in our society. One thing is important -- when you are living in Mali and you have a fight with your husband or wife, they call the griots to come and make peace. If you have a problem, they call the griot to figure it out and talk. So the importance of the griot is not just in the music.
Z.L.: What impression did you have of America and Europe before you came?
B.K.: At my young age I was sometimes watched TV. I'd see the news in America and Europe, and for me those countries were interesting to say, 'Oh, it's good someday if I go,' but I was never thinking, 'I'm going to leave my culture.' I was very, very close to my family, and very close to my mom. She was a singer, and we did a lot together. She would sing, and I would play. This was after my father past away. I had responsibility in my hometown, and there are a lot people there I know. I was very happy in Africa.
I know for a fact we were colonized by France, and when I was viewing the world, I was scared of what was going to be happening to us, and what was going to be happening to Africa. The first time I went to Europe, I got a shock. The first time I went to France, when I was 22, I saw people sleeping in the streets. It was in December and it was very cold. There were a lot of homeless people and they were coming up to me asking for money. For me, to see those beautiful buildings and all that stuff, I was thinking I would not see any people in the street starving. In Africa you cannot see that. It's true, in Africa we are poor, but unless you are really, really crazy and don't want to go into your house, you don't see homeless people outside. We share food always. If my mother makes food and there is too much, I don't throw it away. I go outside and give it to the people. That's an important part of African culture. What is really hard for me to understand about living in the United States, and Paris, is how these countries that are very big and very important, economically have people suffering in the streets. It's bad because African people, a lot of people, they look at the TV, and they are [being lied to]. If you look at America on the TV, what do you see? You see Times Square, you see all those rappers, you see the diamond with the rapper, and it confuses the African people. It is meant to make people think 'Oh, if I come to the United States I could be rich overnight,' which is not true. After that, the African people start running to come here, and that's a problem. This is called politics, and everybody knows that. What is needed is the mentality to change yourself mentally. I think Africa can be a powerful culture too, but the colonization is still there -- in the mentality.
Z.L.: How did you learn how to play the talking drum?
B.K.: I learned to play the talking drum when I was seven years old. My mother used to go singing at parties, weddings and baby showers. We went to one of my friend's weddings and there was a talking drum player and I said, 'Can I play your talking drum?,' and I just played it, and I loved it, so I started to learn by myself, Nobody taught me. I just loved it and I played. I didn't know any traditional song or anything. After I started to play, I met some people who played talking drum. They helped me, but they didn't say, 'you have to do it like this.' I watched how they played, and I did the same thing for years and years. One of my best friends helped me alot to say 'Okay, this is good, but this song is the name of this,' and I started to know the whole thing. That's why when I play the talking drum it's very different then anybody else, because I learned by myself, as well as learning what other people would play.
Z.L.: Why is it called the talking drum?
B.K.: When the king called his Griot, he would say, "Okay you gotta tell my people we are going to have a meeting in the place of the big tree of the Baobab, and everyone in the empire needs to be there at six thirty. So the king sends the Griot to translate the message -- that's the job of the griot. The griot takes his talking drum and he says, "hello." When he says "tin tin tin," the drum give the incantation that something important is happening, and everyone would listen to him. So the person to play the talking drum is the one to talk.
Z.L.: What should we look out for in the future?
B.K.: Next year I am going to try to do a lot of festivals -- in the United States, Europe, Mali and all around the world. I want to share my music with love and peace, and play the talking drum with good musicians. Hopefully next year I will play all the best world music festivals in New York and [the rest of] America. I am proud of this culture right now. My wife, she is American, and I am proud to share this culture with [her]. I'm very happy to be here. The best thing I can do is give my culture to young Americans, and all people. That's one project I love to do, meeting people and talking about the Griot like you and me are doing today. There's got to be a lot of young American people asking me these questions, and I love to open it up, because some people don't have the chance to go to Africa. So it's all pretty much good. My name is Baye, Baye Kouyate, and I'm happy. Peace and love.
You can find Baye's 2008 release, "Danama," through i-Tunes, and catch dates for upcoming shows at http://www.myspace.com/bayekouyate.
* Interview Edited by David Morgan.
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