The crisis in Mali may be over, but the dangers remain, and Samba Touré’s hypnotic desert blues provide an intriguing commentary. The mood is less bleak than his last set, Albala, recorded when radical Islamists controlled his village, but the title track – Gandadiko roughly translates as Burning Land – is an angry story of suffering and indifference, while Woyé Katé is a call for refugees to return. Elsewhere, there are morality tales about pollution, lazy men and the dangers of easy money, and translations of his powerful, poetic lyrics are thankfully provided – with the exception of those for a slinky trance song written to calm an evil djinn spirit, omitted “for your own security”. The music is mature and confident, with Touré’s quietly commanding voice matched against insistent bass riffs and guitar work that echoes his one-time mentor Ali Farka Touré, but with a dash of funk and Bo Diddley thrown in. Impressive.
