Pitchfork

Desert Crossroads couldn't be a more apt title for Niamey, Niger's Etran Finatawa. This sextet's potent, trance-y "nomadic blues" is a blend of two West-Central African ethnic groups-- the Tuareg and the Wodaabe peoples-- who historically have lived in the south Sahara and Sahel grasslands. The band itself is a crossroad, not only in its novel and successful attempt at mixing the two distinct musical strains (vocals are in the Wodaabe style while the pronounced guitar and hand-drum grooves are steeped in Tuareg rhythms), but also since the group features three representatives from each tribe.

Etran Finatawa represent two groups that have both traditionally wandered to where the water and pastures took them, sadly not always free of conflict over these essential resources. The other obvious "crossroads" analogy comes in with the themes of the music which address the trials and tribulations common to both ethnic groups, primarily due to the erosion of their cultural traditions and loss of their lands. Desertification is driving many people to the cities where the old ways are being forgotten, but still longed for.

Granted, this English-speaking writer couldn't glean all that from the Tamashek (Tuareg) or Fulfulde (Wodaabe) languages that Etran sing in for this sophomore release, but there is a beautiful earnestness that, even during more uptempo and joyous numbers like the circular vamp "Amidinine", reveals a composed seriousness. This track isn't the only one that hypnotically and repetitively explores the churning bluesy guitar spiral-- pretty much the whole record displays this signature of Kel Tamasheck (a name the Tuareg call themselves) music.

These trilling, slurring, serpentine guitar lines are most prominent in the internationally-renowned Tuareg band Tinariwen, who are the reason that many Tuareg musicians made the switch to electric guitar back in the 1970s. Where Tinariwen spin their desert blues with strong rock overtones-- wah-wah on the six-string, pronounced electric bass lines-- Etran keep things more traditional. Guitars may be electric, but the tone is clean; and the infrequent bass is far less featured. Though the dexterous, cobwebbed guitars have an affinity towards contemporary Afropop, the essential throbbing drones and implied bass lines are pure blues. (One can also hear this African/American Delta blues connection in the style of Malian guitarist Ali Farka Touré.)

Two songs that reveal a pronounced Wodaabe influence are "Gaynaako" and "Naanaaye". Both use call-and-response vocals-- nasally and wailing with alternately smoothly-subdued replies-- that intertwine over a pulsing, clip-clop of percussion and hand-claps (besides the polyphonic and contrapuntal vocal-style, hand-claps are key to the Wodaabe sound.) These are extremely evocative and enticing tunes rich with the melding of both tribesmen, especially considering the shifting landscape and cross-cultural exchange they borrow from, including various sub-Saharan cultures, West African influences, Berber, Arabic, and even the subtle hint of contemporary Western rock. Afropop fans and world music buffs wishing to broaden their palette should experience Etran's genius musical nomadism.