You think you know what you are going to get with these Malian desert blues-rockers. On their eighth studio album it seems like not much has changed for the band, their fusion of meditative, groove-laden, indigenous, North African, and western sounds, adding up to what is loosely called 'desert blues'. But times have changed, and once again the band find themselves in semi-exile, mirroring their origins, and several points in-between. Over the past five years, their homeland in the Adrar des Ifoghas, a Saharan mountain range that straddles the border between north-eastern Mali and southern Algeria has, in effect, been transformed into a conflict zone (threatened by ultra-conservative Salafist insurgents). A place where nobody can venture without putting themselves in danger, and where war lords devoted either to jihad and/or trafficking, have put any activity that contradicts their beliefs or that escapes their control, in jeopardy. The conflicts that have almost continuously engulfed much of Western Sahara continues to take its toll on Tinariwen, their resolve and their hope. The fight for independence and/or self-determination has been a long and weary one, and as such is increasingly reflected in much of their music, a palpable sense of disempowerment and helplessness pervades Elwan via both the lyrics and music.

Back in the beginning, and throughout the last couple of decades, the band's political thrust revolved around the Tuareg people's struggles to achieve political and social equality within the various Saharan countries they inhabit, and their decades-long push toward self-determination. Tinariwen's beginnings spring from founder Ibrahim Ag Alhabib witnessing the execution of his father during a Tuareg uprising in Mali, in 1963. As a young boy he fashioned his first guitar from a tin can, a stick and bicycle brake wire after watching The Fastest Guitar Alive, a ludicrous and long forgotten musical comedy western of the late 60s that featured Roy Orbison in his one and only starring role, playing a guitar which had a gun embedded in it.

Formed while in exile in Algeria, Tinariwen eventually emerged from refugee, guerrilla and nomadic desert camps, whilst evolving into a multi-generational collective. Their name is plural for deserts, they still largely sing in the native Tamashek tongue, and continue to be an important grassroots voice of rebellion, a voice that has been heard around the world as the band continue to develop their large following.
Elwan returns again to the long line of troubles besetting the Tuareg region of Saharan Mali, an area riven by Islamists: a former friend of the band ended up becoming a leader of the music-banning, and culture-destroying Ansar Dine, and hopes of Tuareg self-determination remain distant. And, as a further grim sign of the times, the return of the Festival of the Desert this year was cancelled at the last moment, over terrorism fears.

With the situation still very toxic in Northern Mali, the recording sessions for Elwan (which began at Rancho de la Luna in California’s Joshua Tree National Park in 2014) took place in Paris and Morocco, and guests on the album include Kurt Vile, Mark Lanegan and guitarist Matt Sweeney, as well as a 'Ganga' outfit (a group of Berber ‘gnawa’ trance musicians).  

Desert life, and the loss of much of it, also continues to be a recurring theme for Tinariwen, as they evoke a powerful nostalgia: “Tenere, can you tell me of anything better, than to have your friends and your mount / And a brand-new goatskin, watertight… To know how to find water in, the unlikeliest of places?" they sing on the typically psychedelic electric guitar/percussion/bass rhythms and recurring motifs of 'Sastanaqqam' (translated as ‘I Question You’). And on the deceptively tranquil and graceful sounding 'Tenere Taqqal' (loosely translated as 'What has happened to the desert') they sing: "The strongest impose their will, and leave the weakest behind… Many have died battling for twisted ends / And joy has abandoned us, exhausted by all this duplicity." It's this song that references the Elwan of the album's title, apparently a metaphor to describe those who trample all in their path; "The tenere has become an upland of thorns/Where elephants (elwan) fight each other, Crushing tender grass underfoot."

The sometimes abrasive, often sweetly hypnotising guitars of Tinariwen and their various guests, once again gel magnificently throughout. There’s a heightened telepathy between the players, a mix of older and much younger players, often with the rhythm machine of the bassist and percussionists providing the bedrock. On tracks such as 'Nizzagh Ijbal', the relatively upbeat ode to love 'Hayati' (My Life), the mini-funk grooves of 'Imidiwan n-akal-in' (friends from my country), the uptempo sprightly guitars of 'Assawt’, and the muliti-layered guitars and vocals of 'Nannuflay' which features the voice of Mark Lanegan. While 'Ittus' (our goal) contains just an electric guitar and vocal performed by one of the group's founders, Hassan Ag Touhami, and which is just three lines long: "I ask you, what is our goal? / It is the unity of our nation / And to carry our standard high".

Kindness, respect, solidarity, ancestral traditions and the values essential to life in the desert, where both the human and ecological equilibriums are extremely fragile. For Tinariwen and their native fans in particular, music has once again been a major saviour. And again, it's been delivered with thoughtful elegance and grace amidst the turmoil and terror.

Jeff Hemmings

Website: tinariwen.com
Facebook: facebook.com/tinariwenmusic
Twitter:  twitter.com/TINARIWEN