Mike’s Blog

I Got Them Ol’ Toareg Blues Again, Mama

Sat, 6 Feb 2010 15:02:06 +0000

Day One - here
Day Two - here

Day Three - 9 January, 2010
Most of the rest of the guys I was hanging around with headed back to Timbuktu on the morning of the third day, to visit some of the sites, and in some cases simply take a shower and visit a toilet that wasn’t simply a hole dug into the sand. Like a hardened traveller/festival-goer though, I remained behind and spent most of the morning chilling.
When they returned Jeff took out his didgeridoo and we had a jam in the campsite, with Musa on melodica, and various percussion instruments being passed around. Like a good sound engineer I had packed a small portable recorder - a Yamaha Pocketrak 2G for those geeks who care, and quickly ran off to grab it, laying it in the sand to capture as much of the jams as I could. The results of which can be heard here, and here.
The rest of the afternoon was spent chatting music with Henry, who made me write down the names Amanaz and Chrissy Zebby Tembo - specifically recommending the album “My Ancestors”, both of which I’ve dutifully downloaded since getting back. When we eventually heard noises emanating from the stage area we headed over to catch Amadou & Mariam, and Habib Koite sound-checking. More beer and considerable amounts of whisky and gin drank from sachets, provided by a Malian woman named Agit whom we’d befriended as our personal whisky & gin sachet seller, ensued before the real events of the night got started with highlights including a Jewish New York funk band called Sway Machinery, who played re-interpretations of Jewish folk tunes, a French violinist, Jean-Marc Phillippe who treated us to some Bach, but the real treat came at the end of the night when Cheick Tidiane Seck and his all-star band performed a jam session with musicians Haira Arby, Habib Koite, Amadou & Mariam all getting involved. Cheick’s band were incredible, finding places for all the musicians who decided to get involved no matter what they wanted to play.
At some point during the night Sinead had managed to find a VIP badge. I won’t speculate as to how she did it, but she wore it with pride. And then she disappeared, only to reappear on-stage, dancing around at the back while Cheick Tidiane Seck and Amadou & Mariam sang “Beaux Dimanches”. Upon reappearing Sinead then took a painting of Garry’s, named “Young Paddy” which Garry was apparently taking around the world and photographing after stealing it from a friend - the photo’s of course being sent back to the original owner. Sinead then went back on-stage to dance with “Young Paddy”. Sadly, I don’t think anyone took a photo of them, but “Young Paddy” can be happy enough having been photographed in the hands of Henry Rollins and of course, myself!
We headed back to the campsite around 4.30am having seen the cream of Africa’s musical talent. The lack of festival organisation meant that some of the better known acts hadn’t played as long as I’d liked, but I didn’t miss anything and I had an incredible time. The Western acts often felt a little out-of-place but I still envied them the ability to share a stage with such great musicians in the middle of the Sahara desert.
We were shaken awake at 6am by the Sahel Tours guy who had provided our campsite. It was freezing and I’d barely slept, but they insisted we pack up and leave as soon as possible. Henry had already left to catch the first flight out of Timbuktu to Bamako, in order to get back to Dublin to start his tour, and Jeff and his dad had also left to head South to Mopti and Dogon Country. So those of us remaining were left wondering why we were in such a rush.

If you’d like to hear some of the Malian music I’ve been banging on about, and you have Spotify I suggest you go here, to a playlist I constructed for your delectation.

Meeting Henry Rollins in the Sahara

Tue, 2 Feb 2010 21:05:54 +0000

Day One - here

Day Two - 8 January, 2010
Over breakfast on the second day I mentioned to Jeff, one of the guys I was sharing the campsite with, that one of the other guys sharing our campsite and walking over towards us looked just like Henry Rollins. After a short conversation with the Rollins look-alike I asked his name.
“Henry”.
“Oh, you ARE Henry”, said I, immediately wishing I hadn’t.
“Yes”, he replied, “you mean, as in Henry Rollins” and then reeled off some quote or lyric that I was too embarrassed to actually remember. I’m not usually star-struck, I work in a studio where famous people come and go all the time, and I’ve been fortunate enough to meet and talk to several of my heroes. But that’s work and you kind of expect it, you’re in a social context where it’s the norm. You don’t expect to meet celebrities over breakfast while you’re camping in the Sahara. And especially not one that you’d only recently been reading about. Before I went away I started reading Michael Azerrad’s book “Our Band Could Be Your Life”, which documents the American underground in the 80s and opens with a chapter on Black Flag. So having the lead singer sharing my campsite kind of shook me.
To escape the sun we retreated to the shelter of the camel-skin Tuareg tents, where we chatted away about music, travelling, politics, etc. with Henry leading the conversation as only a man who tours doing spoken word probably can.
After lunch a few of us went for a wander into the handicraft area, where we dared to face the oncoming hordes of Tuareg’s shouting “bon prix”, before heading off to watch the camel race. A lot of fuss was made over the camel race, but I couldn’t fathom it. None of the camels appeared to be moving, and certainly not with any haste.
After a while spent sitting around in the sand waiting for something to happen Jeff bemoaned the lack of a football and then instantly spotted a kid with one. We gestured towards him and started a small kick about. It quickly grew into some weird amorphous version of keep-away, with more and more locals joining in, including one carrying a bunch of stuff on his head and refusing to put it down. It didn’t take long for my lungs to get torn to shreds; the flat football, and sand made for a tough game. Sadly my camera was dead by this point, having suffered from the heat and sand, so I have no photos, although there were a considerable number of photographers around taking pics so maybe one will turn up.
The music finally got started at around 8/9pm and once again the Malian bands wiped the floor with the Western guests. Animal Collective’s Deacon parting the crowds like Moses at the Red Sea. He opened his set telling the crowd; “this is experimental music”, and then proceeded to do nothing more experimental than play guitar and sing through a delay pedal to an uninspiring beat. To give him the benefit of the doubt he looked pretty scared up their, and I’m guessing half his equipment probably wasn’t working, but it certainly killed the vibe. This was promptly followed by a fashion show, which made even less sense, but somehow was far more fun and then the music carried on long into the night, culminating with a tribute to Ali Farka Touré with Afel Bocoum, Vieux Farka Touré (Ali’s son) and Haira Arby amongst others. The tribute seemed largely to be a jam session with musicians coming and going. By 4am, Vieux Farka Touré came on, but only a couple of songs in the calabash player (a calabash is a fruit, which has many uses in Africa, but the large ones can be dried, hollowed out, halved and used as a percussion instrument) got so frustrated at having played for so long that he smashed his instrument, grabbed his bag and ran off the stage gesticulating with his fingers how many hours he’d been playing.

Day Three - here

Desert blues

Thu, 28 Jan 2010 23:37:26 +0000

So I guess I’ve been home for over a week now and some of you - at least those that haven’t spoken to me in person yet - are probably wanting to hear some tall tales from Mali, New Years Eve celebrations under the stars, trekking in Dogon Country, and getting lost in Timbuktu. The thing is though; this is a music blog. So let’s start with what I did last on my holidays, the desert festival itself.
Since, I imagine most of you reading this don’t really know your Malian music all that well, I’ve put together a Spotify playlist of some of my favourite artists and tracks. If you’ve got Spotify, go here for a listen.
For security reason’s this year’s Festival Au Desert was moved from its home town of Essakane closer to the city of Timbuktu. This year also heralded the 10th anniversary of the Festival Au Desert, alongside the 50th anniversary of the Malian state, and the 2000th anniversary of the founding of Timbuktu (although I don’t imagine that’s all that accurate).

Day One - 7 January, 2010
I arrived on site at around 11:30am with a few people I’d met in Timbuktu who’d booked through the same tour agency. We spent most of the first hour driving and walking around the site looking for the campsite. The flatbed truck kept getting stuck in the sand, and for reasons known probably only to the driver and his God, we did much of this in reverse. This taught us an important lesson. Moving vehicles in the sand don’t really have 100% control over where they are going. So get the crap out of the way! We didn’t hang about the campsite long, after dumping our stuff we hit the bar - the first people to do so on the whole site.
The bands started around 5pm, which gave us ample time to look around and drink beer - in fact we were the first people to buy beer from the beer tent. The opening ceremony was bizarre. Tuaregs on camels approached the stage, while local bands played traditional Tuareg music, complete with sword wielding dances. Bands then quickly came and went, with even big names like Bassekou Kouyaté and Habib Koite only being asked to play one song. Most of the bands that day were African, with only Paul Simon’s son Harper (whom I’d previously met several times, befriending him and several of his travelling companions while in Mali) singing in English. However, a New Caledonian band, by the name of Dick & Hnata were one of the highlights. As well as his own set, Harper Simon was lucky enough to be invited on-stage to join Tinariwen for one song, during their epic set, which ended around 3am. Seeing Tinariwen in the desert, surrounded by Tuaregs and other Malians was an incredible experience. Their blues inflexions provided a perfect end to the first day. Which was lucky, because we tried to get into the Night Club/Dance Tent. But it turned out their was no PA supplied. So the few that had remained up attempted to create their own music, singing bad Bob Marley renditions, which were then further ruined by a local singer/rapper/poet who decided we should all follow his lead, rather than just sing along. Unfortunately no-one seemed interested in his multi-part arrangements, making everything just laughable.

Day Two - here
Day Three - here

I’m Back!

Thu, 14 Jan 2010 15:09:04 +0000

Well I’m back, safe and sound from Mali. Expect more on that soon, once I’ve managed to get the photo’s off my camera and put my thoughts on the whole thing in order. The sand got in the lens mechanism of my camera and killed it on the last day of the festival in Timbuktu, and now I can’t even get the photo’s off. But I should be able to fix it, or at least I hope I can.

In short though, Mali was amazing. I met some incredible people, both locals and tourists, and if I could afford to go back, I’d pack my bag now. While I was away though, not one of you miserable gits put up your top ten albums. So instead I’m listening to the music Henry Rollins suggested for me. Get on it, I want some lists to nerd over!

Mike

Closed for holidays

Mon, 28 Dec 2009 15:25:57 +0000

I hope you all had a great Christmas. I’m away until January 13th in Mali, where I’ll be exploring the desert, meeting people and listening to as much great music as I can come across. I’ll be in Bamako for New Year, and at the Festival Au Desert from the 7-9th.
I’ll be keeping a diary of my travels while I’m gone, and alongside my camera I’ll be taking a Yamaha Pocketrak 2G digital audio recorder. I’m not intending to bootleg the festival, but if I come across any good sounds while I’m out there I’ll try and capture them for everyone.
In the meantime, get your top ten albums of the decade lists up, I want some good reading material when I return.

Mike