Lobi Traore

The back-story to this album is tragic and deeply moving but that should not, on its own, lead you to this album. What should lead to this album is the brilliant playing and exquisite musicianship – back story or no, this album is superb.

Lobi Traore hailed from Mali, specifically the region of Segou, which is the home of many of Africa’s finest musicians. He had played with virtually all the local bands and players in Bamako and he recorded with many ensembles over the years but this was a rare excursion into the studio to play a solo set and he died, unexpectedly, shortly afterwards, in June of this year.
If this is to be his final legacy then it is a great thing to leave as a tombstone.

His guitar playing is harsh and angular, the notes picked out almost one at a time and works beautifully alongside his lyrics which are short sentences and couplets rather than songs as we in the west would recognise them. His voice is slightly higher pitched than you might expect but again, a perfect match for the music. In so many ways he reminds me of the oldest of Bluesmen – think Robert Johnson, Son House or Ledbelly, maybe Lightnin’ Hopkins and especially John Lee Hooker - rather than Muddy Waters or Freddie King – and the sheer expression of the music and the playing is utterly entrancing. I have listened to the album half a dozen times and have played it through each time – this really isn’t one to pick favourites from.

His history has seen him playing with a lot of Western musicians, notably Bonnie Raitt and Chris Eckman (Dirtmusic) who produced this but this stands as a personal statement of his music and the journey that he has made – the 5 stars aren’t for his story they are for the music here but frankly they could as easily be for the man himself as well.