The Cedar, Mshale and KFAI Present
BOMBINO with Black Widows
Sunday Jul 15, 2018 Doors: 7:00 PM Show: 8:00 PM
$22 Advance / $25 Day of show
This is a standing show with an open floor. General Admission tickets are available online, by phone, at Depth of Field, Electric Fetus, and The Cedar during shows.
Home. Where the heart is. For Bombino and most other Touareg, there’s only one place that can be. In recent years, the rest of the world has largely written off that home as a hot and savage wasteland, a bolt-hole for religious extremists and terrorists, a geopolitical video nasty with little to offer apart from the oil, gold and phosphates that lie beneath its soil. But Bombino would like us to take a closer look and think again. His feelings are beautifully summed up in the song “Tehigren” (‘Trees’), from his brand new album ‘Deran’: ‘Do not forget the green trees / In our valleys in the Sahara / In the shade of which, / Rest the beautiful girls / Radiant and lovable’.
How to celebrate that desert home, how to protect it, develop it, unify it, respect it and, above all, never forget it, are the salient themes of ‘Deran.’ They’re dressed up in ten songs of rare maturity and power that mark a turning point in the career of a guitarist and songwriter who was born in the shade of an acacia tree about eighty miles north west of the ancient town of Agadez, and has since risen to forefront of the new Touareg guitar generation. It’s a turning back to the source of everything that makes Bombino who he is.
“My mission for this album was always to get closer to Africa,” he says. Not surprising then that the decision was made to record ‘Deran’ as close as possible to his native Niger in the southern Sahara. The ideal venue emerged in the shape of Studio Hiba, a top flight recording facility owned by King Mohammed VI (he loves his tunes, apparently) located in a fairly drab industrial suburb of Casablanca in Morocco. There Bombino and his steady long-term band - fellow Touareg Illias Mohammed on guitar and vocals, the American Corey Wilhelm on drums and percussion and the Mauritanian (living in Belgium) Youba Dia on bass - slept, ate and made music in blissful isolation. Their circle was widened by Moroccan percussionist Hassan Krifa, and by Bombino’s cousins Anana ag Haroun (lead singer of the Brussels-based Touareg band Kel Assouf), and Toulou Kiki (singer and star of the film Timbuktu), who dropped in to add some ‘gang’ vocals. After Casablanca, the tapes flew off to Boston to be embellished by Sudanese friend and keyboardist Mohammed Araki.
Whatever emerged at the end of the process had to be fresh and powerful. Yes. Bombino and crew have conjured up a roving mystery tour of contemporary Saharan sounds, from the raw diesel rock of the opener ‘Imajghane’ (‘The Tuareg’), to the camel gait lope of ‘Tenesse’ (‘Idleness’), the tender lilt of Midiwan (‘My Friends’) and the ‘Touareggae’ style that is Bombino’s unique contribution to desert music on the song ‘Tehigren’. All the desert is there, harsh and gentle, tragic and playful.
But more than anything ‘Deran’ had to be honest and true. The pressure to be the authentic voice of his culture and his home on the world stage weighs heavy on Bombino. “You have to begin with the question of who you are,” he says. “You’re a Touareg. With all the travels, all the experience of world, it’s as if I’m making myself remember where I come from. Where I come from will always be my home, my memory.”
Simple, raw, true, that was the brief. “We wanted him to take a deliberate step out of the shadow of the celebrity producer,” says Bombino’s manager, and ‘Deran’ producer, Eric Herman. “Apart from that, the idea was to take this raw, spontaneous, unadulterated approach to capturing his songs.”
Assembling his team on African soil was also Bombino’s way of questioning the divisions that separate people and continents, of demonstrating “that people here aren’t against foreigners.” Back in the late 1990s, early 2000s, like so many fellow Touareg youth, Bombino worked as a cook and guide for various tourist agencies in the deserts around Agadez. He remembers how foreign visitors would often bring guitar strings to distribute among local musicians. To budding guitarists like Bombino, those strings were more valuable than gold. Now he rues the death of Saharan tourism, killed by insecurity and conflict.
“For us, it’s a matter of breaking down barriers,” he says, “not the frontiers of a country, but the frontiers that prevent people forming relationships. I mean, when you look Europe and Africa, the only relationship that seems to exist is one of military bases and security…Getting to know each other, that’s the most important thing for me.”