Brighton
18 March 2014
This was a funny evening. Good, of course. Sidi Touré is really quite the performer, and his band some of the finest. I kind of get the impression it’s not really a regular gig-going crowd. At one point there was a chap clapping out of time (clapping out of time is quite a feat, in a way). I clocked someone who seemed to take the opportunity to carry on her dance moves (I think it was a salsa of some sort – it didn’t bear any relationship to the music that was playing). Criticising other people’s dancing when you’re the largely static turd at the back is a bit disingenuous but it’s kind of emblematic of the evening. Touré speaks enough English to say hello and that’s about it, but carries on his between-song patter in French regardless of the fact that it’s lost on the audience. A shame my GCSE French hasn’t persisted because I get the impression there’s some heartfelt invocations lost on my monoglot ears.
The set is largely made up of numbers from last year’s Alafia. Fireworks are kept in the bag early in the set, and the muso geek in me spends a lot of it marvelling at Touré’s matching of melodical lines with vocals and guitar. In the live setting, the repetitions acquire a certain intensity, the parallel lines on acoustic/electric guitars and n’goni with little in the way of volume dynamics operating in an odd space – where it’s an up-tempo number, hips can’t fail but to shake, but on the slower numbers there’s again a slight disjunct with my not following the lyrics. It’s possibly down to the venue – I’m propped at the back and it’s a small-ish, packed place that’s less considered sit down chin-strokers and more folk on their way into town.And speaking of the folk on their way into town, there’s a funny thing happens mid-way through – a load of the audience start departing, particularly those who were keeping the dancefloor moving. It’s just at the point where the more transferable skills stuff (the tracks closer to blues shuffles) start ceding to the explosions. Touré’s n’goni player very quietly slips to centre stage (metaphorically) – having supplemented a few solos, he starts throwing out some massive triplets and preposterous trills, like a Malian baroque prodigy, the tracks get longer and the solos more florid. It felt really odd to me that just as the show starts igniting properly so to do a portion of the audience start thinking about buses. Their loss, for sure.
Possibly an evening of two halves, I suspect – there’s a definite sense that the longer the show goes on, the more the band relax into the performance. They’re all pretty comfortable up their – clearly, they’re seasoned professionals – but it’s almost like there’s a switch hit (possibly one of the more clipped n’goni solos) where they metaphorically undo the top button of their shirts (they’re wearing what I presume is traditional Malian garbs, so no buttons apparent).I mentioned in my review of Alafia that the record was a bit “rewarding after a few listens” – and I think part of the problem there was that the recorded format is relatively limited. Live they’re at least given half a chance to show off some skills and the songs with what I’d describe as breakdowns (mid-point jumps in tempo to less lyrical, more call-and-response type stuff) really get a fleshing the record lacked somewhat. There’s still the impression (prejudice?) that West African musical culture tends to be very different – much more all-night, much less regimented – but there’s at least glimpses of the sort of virtuosity they could pull out given the chance. By the time of the closing tune, all of the band get an introduction and a solo, which is one of the only points where the percussionist – steadily holding court at the back – throws in some minor showy fills while continuing to drill the bassy pulse that’s been keeping heads nodding for most of the night.
A great gig, to some extents, but possibly one that could’ve benefitted from a dancing crowd, cheaper beer and a longer show. The band express their gratitude but it’s difficult to tell if it’s a perfunctory and professional gesture or sincere gratitude. They get an encore, of course, but it’s tough to say (and it may just be that they’re pretty louche men) whether they’re doing it out of obligation or genuine desire. Next time, a different setting and a livelier crowd and I’d hope to see more fire from Mr Touré.
-Kev Nickells-
