“Ake Doni Doni- Take It Slow” by Cheick Hamala Diabate- Griot-pop For the People

Our wild crazy modern global village creates some pretty incongruous combinations, but a griot in Washington, D.C.? Yep, and his name is Cheick Hamala Diabate (yes, one of those Diabates), doing everything a griot is supposed to do, including playing music. Of course the griot’s duties go beyond music, into history, hagiography, and even advice to those lost and found in love. The best analogy might be to the Baptist preacher in African-American communities in the US Deep South, where there is little separation between church and state. They must be always at the ready to explain the world to those hungry for understanding, preferably before the undertaking. For such occasions music plays an almost supernatural role of transcendence, a language connecting disparate worlds, just as it does for many of us late-20^th century pilgrims and forest-dwellers now gone millenial digital.

Except in the case of Cheick Hamala Diabate, he’s preaching and teaching and singing the gospel for expatriate Africans, particularly West Africans, particularly Malians. More and more ex-pats in the US assimilate less and less, preferring instead to mix and match what works best from both worlds, particularly in large cities where the force of their numbers allows for true community. It’s a dirty little secret- the ‘melting pot’ never had meaning beyond the European- mostly northern European- communities of early US history. Of course this is a wonderful opportunity for us ‘normal’ W-A-S-P Americans who have long ago shed our stingers, preferring instead to extend our fingers into every cultural nexus that presents itself within our reach. Often this requires nothing more than a trip to the other side of town, like another dimension right there hiding in plain sight. But music’s even better- you just push a button and turn up the volume- if you know which button to push. Thanks to Google and MySpace, we’re now limited only by our imaginations… and search exhaustion.

Part of Diabate’s musical mission is to reunite his first instrument, the African n’goni, with its long-lost American third-cousin-twice-removed, the banjo. To this end he has mastered both, and even introduced the banjo to his fellow countrymen back home. He has also learned the guitar, which he plays left-handed and upside down (I guess he tired of looking for left-handed guitars). In the process he has collaborated with such US musical luminaries as Bela Fleck and Bob Carlin, even picking up a Grammy nomination in the process, not bad for a country preacher. Now if you’re thinking that maybe an hour of dirge-like droning or African bluegrass isn’t exactly your style, think again. This is pure Afro-pop, thanks to his back-up band Chopteeth.

The title song Ake Doni Doni- ‘Take It Slow’ is a rocking jazzy number sung in English about the dangers of HIV and the need to… you guessed it. Sex is better that way anyway, isn’t it? For some reason that song closes the album, though I personally would have preferred it as the opener. The song that DOES open the album is the mid-tempo ‘Den Wourou Lalou’, which features some bouncey Farfisa-like organ, slick guitar and some wailing female backup vocals while intoning in English to “get an education,” etc. It’s a nice song, but a bit indecisive as the opener. The second song ‘Wanto Doke’ quickly rectifies that, a straight-ahead mid-tempo griot rap that features Diabate’s own superb vocals and some more smart guitar. Unfortunately these and most of the album’s lyrics are in African dialect- I’m guessing Bambara- but feature more advice on the need for self-reliance and responsibility.

From there the album ranges from the slow brooding vocals of ‘Tounka Mani’ to ‘Oude Diallo’s ethereal female wailing to the lively brass and funky banjo of ‘Djeli Fily Tounkara.’ True to griot form the album slows down and grows more pensive toward the end- except for the title song- with the hypnotic instrumentals of ‘Den Den’ and ‘Baba Sissoko Dabia’s slow lilting repetitive talk-over. This would have been a good song to end on, a nice slow walk after a good long ride. That’s a rather small complaint for a really good album. A special note of mention should go to Cheick’s daughter Astou Diabate, who does a fine job throughout, while getting scarce mention in the notes. I hope Cheick’s not hiding her away, trying to marry her off to some lawyer. I’m guessing Cheick’s not really his name either btw, more of an honorific, usually spelled ‘sheikh’ in English. He’s a Muslim preacher you see, the religion of Mali and much of West Africa. Fundamentally the teachings are the same as Christianity; the God IS the same. The music is at least as good, maybe better. Check it out.