Tamikrest’s ‘Assikel’ is a woozy call to resistance

Calming and atmospheric desert blues is defiant in the face of oppression

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Assikel: from Ishumar rock’n’roll to more contemplative folk music

Tamikrest are one of the swaths of Tuareg bands that were born out of the violent oppression of their people at the hands of the Malian Army, Kremlin-controlled paramilitaries and radical Islamists but who came to prominence in the wake of Tinariwen’s breakthrough in the early years of this century. Along with the likes of Tartit and Terakaft they have sung their hypnotic desert blues in exile from a land which is ruled by a military junta, where political opposition is banned and media suppressed, with an intense yearning to return that is thoroughly tangible.

Assikel, which was recorded live in the studio, continues this tradition, weaving electric and acoustic guitars, mellow lap steel, atmospheric grooves, hand percussion, calabash, drums and soulful singing. It is a lament of nostalgia for homeland and of the homesickness of displacement – but it is certainly not a dour album of musical misery. Rather it clearly aims to raise awareness of a great injustice while it gently swings hips.

Veering from Ishumar rock’n’roll to more contemplative folk music, Assikel not only takes on the political themes which Tamikrest have long championed but also acknowledges the influence of their musical mentors Tinariwen, with Ibrahim Ag Alhabib providing the soft-spoken vocals on the woozy “Eillal” and a home recording of the late Mohammed Ag Itlale on the fade out of “Adounia”. Indeed, lovers of Tinariwen’s sound will find much in common here with the Tuareg musical leaders in exile: from the gentle and earthy tunes like the ethereal “Adagh Oyantid” and the more mournful “Iman Derham Nasa” to the distinctly more feisty, fuzzy guitars of “Imanin” and the intoxicating grooves of “Tapsakin”. Nevertheless, those who are not particular fans of Tamikrest’s deserts blues sound might be forgiven for viewing Assikel as somewhat derivative and not offering much that hasn’t been heard before.

A lament of nostalgia for homeland and of the homesickness of displacement

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