177: Jama Ko, by Bassekou Kouyate & Ngoni Ba

Bassekou Kouyate & Ngoni Ba (Mali)
Jama Ko (2013)
13 tracks, 58 minutes
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This album was one of the very first that I reviewed when I was making my tentative steps into music journalism, for the now sadly defunct website Musika.uk.com. Thinking back on it now, I reckon I was a little harsh on Jama Ko when it first came out, so here I’ll try to rebalance it a little bit.

So obviously, the album is a bit of a grower (for me at least). Over time, I’ve come to realise some of the components that make it a really good album, although I can still acknowledge its flaws.

Jama Ko marked the first time that Malian ngoni lute player Bassekou Kouyaté had really ‘plugged in’ on record. That was something that had been resisted by his previous producer Lucy Durán, but which now forms a crucial part of his sound. I do think that nowadays he’s perhaps a little too over-reliant on his electronic gizmos such as distortion and wah-wah, but on this album it’s used sparingly in a way that makes it exciting each time it rolls around. In fact, it’s a really special moment when he first busts out that wah-wah during his solo in the album’s opening and title track – I like to say that this is one of the best guitar solos I’ve ever heard, and it’s not even played on guitar.

This album is Bassekou’s third as a solo artist (or rather, as bandleader) and although it shows a definite expansion of its sound into more Western directions in terms of some tonalities, harmonies and chords here and there, his repertoire here still owes a lot to Malian music traditions. A big theme on this album is singers. Over the course of the 13 tracks, there are five lead singers, and through them, the album explores different aspects of Malian tradition: there is Amy Sacko, Ngoni Ba’s regular singer, from the Bamana tradition, as is the legendary Kasse Mady Diabaté; Zoumana Tereta, usually known for his one-string soku fiddle playing, here sings in the style of the Wassoulou hunters; Khaira Arby is half-Songhai and half-Tuareg from the north of the country; and Taj Mahal guests on a track, representing Malian music’s distant nephew, the blues. Bassekou himself even does some singing opposite Taj Mahal and does a great job of it, it’s a shame we don’t get to hear his vocal prowess more in his performances.

There are some slip-ups though. There are some tracks which seem the most ‘produced’ and they’re the ones with the least soul. The song ‘Wagadu’ is a great example, with its artificial echoes, piano chords and glockenspiel; the song itself is great, but these production elements seem unneeded in the context of the rest of the album. It basically seems whenever they let Canadian co-producer Dominic 'Mocky' Salole go from behind the desk to in front of the mics, the album as a whole suffered from it. A shame.

Despite remembering being quite harsh on this album, at the end of the original review I wrote back when it was first released, I did say that ‘Bassekou’s latest album is his most musically progressive and perhaps his most enjoyable,’ and actually, yeah fair enough. Even after releasing several albums since, I reckon that Jama Ko is his best of the bunch, his balancing of traditional and modern directions almost – almost – perfect. Take a listen and hear for yourself. And if you don’t believe me, maybe give it another listen and see if you change your mind.