Dieuf-Dieul de Thies - Senegal 70
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Dieuf-Dieul de Thies - Senegal 70
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Various Artists
Dieuf-Dieul de Thies The heyday of modern Senegalese orchestras, at least on record, like that of so many West African countries, was the 1970s. And it was an oft repeated confluence of factors that led to it. Like its immediate neighbors Guinea and Mali, the influence of not only big band jazz from the US, but Cuban sons brought over from sailors from the island, had a strong pull on Senegalese bands during the 20th century's first half. Pre-independence, the coastal town St. Louis, located on the Mauritanian border, served as the capital, not only of Senegal, but also of Mauritania and all of French West Africa. Needless, to say, the constant influx of westerners came with music, and every regional capital of the country had at least one orchestra. All one needs to do is listen to the Star Band, the most important post-independence band the country had to hear how strong the Cuban influence was, and the Orchestra Baobab, easily the biggest band in 1970s Senegal, never hid its love for Cuban rhythms, melodies, and even vocal inflections. And also like Guinea and Mali, the country's break from France (in 1960), led to the country's first president, Leopold Sedar Senghor's decision to insist on his country's people identifying more closely with their own culture, arts, and politics. No matter what issues there may be with Senghor, this decision had massive musical repercussions still being felt today. But thanks in no small part to the flourishing of the recording medium, and the cantankerousness of producer and club owner Ibra Kasse, a music scene developed in the 1960s; and as bands started to incorporate Senegal's own rich harmonic and rhythmic inclinations into the music, mbalax was born. Senegal 70, as is typical of Analogue Africa's releases, concentrates on the 1970s, as this western African nation had no shortage of amazing, innovative dance bands making records and packing the country's clubs at the time. Of course, the booklet is immersive and exhausting. There are interviews with the artist and creator of so many of Senegal's more psychedelic LP covers from the time, surviving members of the various bands, stories of producers, as well as label owner Samy Ben Redjeb's accounts of scoring records in the region and falling in love with Orchestra Baobab. But it's the music, always painstakingly selected by Redjeb, with assistance from Teranga Beat's Adamantios Kafetzis, that makes this an essential document of the era.
Featuring tracks from King N'gom, Orchestre Laye Thiam, Amare Toure and the Star Band, as well as a couple of heretofore unreleased tracks by the might Baobab, Senegal 70 shows how the music of the time retained a hint of the Cuban influence, married it to western electric guitar showmanship, and wrapped it tightly in Senegal's own jagged, narcotic grooves. Fangool, a short lived band that actually formed in Paris, is represented here by their track “Mariama,” a tune that attempts to get the sound of the kora out of a keyboard, but suggests reggae with its staccato chops, and envelops swirling, husky vocals insides feisty jabs of guitar. The Orchestre GMI's track “Africa,” dives deep into minor key funk similar to the type of sounds commonly heard coming from Guinea's Syliphone records from the same era. Meanwhile, Le Sourouba de Louga's edgy blast of proto-mbalax “Bour Sine,” shows Senegalese musicians could dwell deep in hypnotic funk on par with anything coming out of Ghana or Nigeria, though this has no connection to Afro-Beat, James Brown, or any number of other pan-African influences. This is the sound of the continent's far west, having found itself, post-independence, in charge of its own fertile scene.
Kafetzis's Teranga Beat label, an imprint specializing in unearthing heretofore unheard recordings of classic Senegambian bands, also occasionally finds recordings by bands only rumored to have ever existed. Such is the case with early 80s group Dieuf-Diel, a Thies-area band many spoke highly of, but of whom no one seemed to have recordings. That, of course, has changed, and Kafetzis has now bestowed upon us a second volume of gems from a band who inexcusably never made a proper record.
One listen to the first track here, “Ariyo,” proves these guys were as good as any band to come from Senegal, its tight single chord percolations giving the horns plenty of riff as well as solo space, between lead singer Bassirou Sarr's floating exhalations and exaltations. The track simply kills. As the disc grinds forward, it becomes clear they had a master guitarist in the great Papa Seck, who had already played with the Star Band, and continued to be a force in Senegalese music until his death. With Dieuf-Dieul he sprinkled wah-wah-infected drips of notes over rhythm guitarist Mamadou Deme's determined chops. “Am Sa Waye,” shows this counterpoint, as well as the rhythmic complexity and vibrancy of Senegalese popular music at the time. Elsewhere, the band shows off its comfortable but sweaty take on Cuban legend Celia Cruz's “Rumba Para Parejas,” and the down tempo ease of “Jirim,” which allows Sarr to soar.
Like everything else on this label, the remastering is so beautiful it's almost baffling. How unearthed tracks from 34 dry, dusty East Central Senegalese years ago can sound this vibrant, full, and close is one more reason why this collection is essential for anyone who's found herself hypnotized by the region's initial musically mature era. Kafetzis has an ear, and he has reason to be proud of the music and performers his releases are bringing back into circulation. - Bruce Miller
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