There is a freshness about a show by Youssou N’Dour that never seems to lose its glow. He still has one of the great voices of Africa, a versatile and richly-textured tenor that doesn’t show the sign (at 65) of growing old and tired.
At the Roundhouse, he started the show with one of his most well-known songs, “Immigrés”. Youssou and the Super Étoile de Dakar bounced in with the kind of energy that usually emerges gradually through the simmering build-up of a set. Here, it’s the deep end from the get-go, the high-pitched sabar drums clattering away furiously at the back of the stage, djembe, tama and other percussion adding to the instantly inebriating mix. The backing vocalists swaying sensually to the energetic and complex rhythm of the mbalax genre with Youssou and others have made the trademark of Senegalese dance music, provide a foil to the lead singer. It’s not classic call and response, although there’s something of that collective excitement-building, but the vocals mesh together as well as dialogue – sometimes harmonising and at others boosting Youssou’s inspirational exhortations.
Some of the songs are about love, others in homage to Senegal, and there’s one in which he praises the virtues of schooling and education. Now wearing glasses on stage, Youssou is in some ways more professorial, but it’s worth remembering that he has had a political life, and stood for election as his country’s president. As with so much African (and in turn African-American and Afro-Caribbean) music, there’s often a moral message in the lyrics. Youssou is a Tukulor griot on his mother's side: they are in charge of collective memory, praising the ancestors and facilitating human exchange. With no need for recourse to the good book, he's a preacher. His incantations, and those of others in the band, the animateurs who play a role in firing the audience up, dancing with exquisite grace and furious energy, are designed – almost scientifically – to lift the venue’s mood, spectator as well as the tight-as-could be band.
There are carefully calibrated – never over-indulgent - moments for solos on the tama (variable pitch drum), expertly taken to virtuoso heights by Assane Thiam, and a powerful showcase for the djembe player Elhadji Oumar Faye. Both solo percussionists fuelling breath-taking dance, and summoning the beats, breaks, and syncopation that make mbalax so irresistible and joyful. The contagiously frenetic mix of rhythms is enriched with elegant guitar picking from Moustapha Gaye, not so much rock style but with a nervous excitement that recalls the unique quality of traditional West African plucked string styles.
There is a very moving moment when Youssou plays the wonderfully emotional song “Birima” – in honour of Moustapha’s long-term predecessor as Super Étoile’s guitarist, Jimi Mbaye. Mbaye died earlier this year, and had played in Super Étoile since 1980, providing one of the essential elements in the band's unique marriage of traditional and modern. The large and very vocal Senegalese contingent in the audience, know all the words and sing along with great fervour.
When Youssou launches into “7 Seconds”, pointing out that his probably greatest international hit was written here in London, Neneh Cherry’s part is expertly sung by Eva Liza Ciss, who belts her part out with force and grace. She's also a great dancer, as she makes clear in the one Latin number they play, "Boyko Yi", a lilting tune, smoother and more sensual than the mainstay African mbalax. Sax-player Alain Oyono switches to flute here, to give the song a little more authenticity and Latino charm. Super Étoile and Youssou were of course steeped in Afro-Cuban music, as were all the African musicians who grew up with it, recognising in it a vibrant part of their DNA, and inspired by the other streams of influence that went into the Caribbean mix.
I first saw Youssou at WOMAD in 1986 – it was a revelation. The band were so incredibly tight and he was a firebrand as well as an extraordinary singer and bandleader. Later, among other gigs, I remember a barnstorming night at S.O.B.’s in New York, where they played a 4-hour set, after spending a month or so on the road, opening for Peter Gabriel’s show. That NYC night, with a largely Senegalese audience, had been their first opportunity to stretch out, after weeks of being limited to half an hour on stage. The pent-up energy burst out explosively, and fuelled a display of collective excellence and excitement the like of which I have rarely seen anywhere. At the Roundhouse, there were plenty of moments when that spirit was present, demonstrating that for all the years that have gone by, Youssou and his band are still one of the very best ambassadors of the feelgood and soulful qualities that make African music so life-enhancing, healing and transformative.
