Amadou & Mariam – Welcome To Mali

I can't claim to have heard of "the Blind couple from Mali" much earlier, but I was banging on about their breakthrough Dimanche A Bamako to anyone who would listen a few years ago. With Manu Chao at the helm, his nose for a raucous cosmopolitan good time and their pulsating beats combined to form a largely ecstatic album full of many WOMAD-pop style floor-fillers. And despite being billed for years under that lazy, almost novelty, tag line Amadou Bagayoko and Mariam Doumbia are, as they say themselves, “musicians first, blind second”.The title of this follow up is perhaps misleading. As much as any local influences, he draws on the likes of Zeppelin, Jeff Back, and The Faces, and she on 60's French pop; so they were never as traditional as some of the other acts to have made a name in Europe (usually via Paris) from West Africa. Indeed, this album sees them aided and abetted by a host of bit players who are partly responsible for stretching them in several new directions. Some of those collaborators chip in more effectively than others and the mix of new styles ranges from disco through rap to string-swept ballads - not all completely well-advised it has to be said.One such guest who emerges with credit is the seemingly ubiquitous Damon Albarn. Fresh from their African Express collaborations he produces the striking opening track 'Sabali'. It's more Petshop Boys than Parklife, and I am left wondering how Amadou spent his time whilst Mariam delivers her ethereal wails over the swirling synth rhythms. With some Vocoder thrown in too it is a completely unexpected opening, builds nicely and feels great but strangely terminates before arriving at any kind of more satisfying conclusion - before Cher could burst in with a climactic chorus perhaps.Albarn also gets a credit for the second track although his impact is harder to detect. This finds Amadou back and the couple tackling a more familiar subject, political corruption, in a more familiar riff-heavy afro-beat style. The following few see them embellishing funky grooves drawing on rock, blues, and reggae, and are all enjoyable. 'Djuru' features the sparkling harp-like kora and the later 'Bozos' has the strained screeching strings of some other unidentified but undeniably ethnic instrument. However, it’s a plain old electric guitar in the hands of Amadou that is the most enjoyable instrumental sound on this album throughout. 'Masiteladi' has some of his finest ragged blues, really cutting loose for the first time and making it one of those tracks where they are just unstoppable. He takes lead vocals about a third of the time, but it is Mariam's high pitched but soft wobbling round the sweet spot of a note that is so distinctive.At the middle of the album a selection of the more obvious, i.e. vocal, collaborations occur. French funkster Juan Rozoff features on 'Je Te Kiffe', being easily mistaken for Manu Chou, and Canadian rapper K'Naan bombs terribly on 'Africa'. He's a banal passenger on the track and, call me a cynic, but the calls for an African unity that is about as likely as an outbreak of altruism at the EU are uninspiring. 'Compagnon De La Vie' gets things back on track with a soulful Stevie Wonder ‘Higher Ground’ beat and brass, while 'Unissons Nous' has another appeal for brotherhood - but at a more believable local level. Vocals from Nigerian Keziah Jones vie for dominance over Amadou's typically exuberant guitar.Mostly an album of Malian and French, where any lyrical failings (they admit to still feeling nervous to sing in French) are thus hidden by my own failings past schoolboy French, there is one English cut. However it’s a let down. 'I Follow You' has rich strings and crashing percussion but drearily awkward lyrics. Whilst in person their affection for each other is clear and endearing, the simple declarations of love here cannot overcome the overall clumsy and leaden impression.But quickly back to the undoubted treasure of positives present on this album. Amadou is at his best when tossing off licks over a pulsating beat - managing to be at the same time both liquid smooth and cutting. Wisely they serve up the best at the end: ‘Batoma’ is intoxicating and ‘Sebeke’ outright stonking as Amadou's storming guitar cuts loose and competing rhythms tumble over themselves to keep the track rocking.Comparisons to Dimanche A Bamako are hard to shake off and find me not quite as captivated ”“ since that did have the added thrill of a new experience. Not all the divergent strands hit the mark, but the walls of the 'world music ghetto' should be given a good battering and there are enough tracks to discard a couple and still leave a solid album's worth of Malian pop magic. So it still scores highly, despite being docked a couple of points for one of those incredibly annoying hidden tracks after a couple of minutes of silence. 86%Amadou & Mariam on MySpace