RFI Musique: You always seem to draw on very concrete sources of inspiration. Your songs revolve around themes such as illegal immigration, the Joola ferry disaster* and the day-to-day problems faced by street vendors in Senegal. Where does this need to anchor your lyrics in social reality come from?
El Hadj N’Diaye: The way I see it, singers have a clear role to play in society. They should sing about problems that thousands and thousands of people experience in their daily lives, but never have the chance to voice themselves. We singers are, in a way, the voice of the people. When I started out things were extremely difficult for me. The thing is, there's no tradition of singers doing 'songs with a message' in Senegal. In theory, if you weren't born into the 'griot' caste, you weren't supposed to sing and that was that! But then I came along and not only did I set myself up as a singer, but I wanted to do songs with a message, songs that weren't just praise songs which is the tradition here. And that was something totally new in Senegal. These days things are beginning to change a bit on the local scene. The rap movement has really taken off now and youngsters are starting to talk about social issues more and more.

Does writing your songs take you a lot of time or do they just flow off your pen?
I think there's a way of expressing things and getting listeners to see what you see and feel what you feel. Sometimes, it can take me days to write a song, but on the whole I'd say most of what I write flows out in one single go. And that's because these are things I've experienced myself, things that have been slowly maturing away in my mind and then they come out in one go. Take Geej, for instance, a song about the thousands of young Senegalese people ready to leap into makeshift boats and knowingly risk their lives to get to Europe. I actually wrote the song in Paris, but I'd already witnessed the events it’s based on in Senegal and stored them up in my mind. It's the perfect example of the day-to-day reality you see going on around you all the time.

You're still based in Senegal, but I wonder if you've ever been tempted to go and live elsewhere?
I did actually, in the '90s. I got the chance to go to Canada, but I only ended up spending six months there because I realised that the path I had to follow lay elsewhere. I knew I'd be better off going back home to my local neighbourhood, Thiaroye, and proving that it was possible to get things up and running there. Even if I earn much less of a living back home, I know it's better in the long run. The problem is, when I talk to all those youngsters with their heads full of dreams and I tell them that they're not going to find the Eldorado they're dreaming of in the West, they just turn round and say 'Yeah, you can talk!'

How did you end up singing and playing guitar?
When I passed the 'baccalauréat' my brother, who was studying in the Soviet Union at the time, sent me this guitar and I remember just picking it up and starting strumming. It just felt obvious that what I had to say could be put down with simple musical notes. Music was a means of transmitting my sensations and my experiences, of getting across the issues I wanted to develop. Whenever we'd be sitting around in a group, I used to love singing. And it was my friends who eventually pushed me into going to present my songs on this radio programme back in the mid-80s. I used to turn up every week with a new song.

To come back to Géej for a moment, what approach did you take on this, your third international album?
When I look back I recorded my first album in just three days with a couple of guitars and a bit of percussion. Then the second one was better orchestrated. I think this third album is a bit of a synthesis, but the most important thing for me is still the messages I'm trying to get across - and the vocals I use to do so. This album involved a lot more work, a lot more reflection and it took longer to prepare. I realized I hadn't brought out a new album since Abdoulaye Wade's government came to power. I felt like a lot of major events had happened in the interim and really needed talked about. I don't think I've ever been so precise and to the point. I'd never wanted to show things exactly how they are, as I've tried to do this time round, to the point where it sometimes comes across a bit brutally, like a slap in the face.

Musically speaking, I've tried to use what's best adapted to the themes I'm trying to get across. For the first time in my career I played with a cello on this album. I think music always benefits when someone opens themselves up to new experiences…

Like Tokoroni, the song you've included in Japanese?
Yes, exactly. I originally wrote the song for this summit I was meant to attend in Japan. I never went to the summit, but I stored the song away at the back of my mind thinking I'd do something with it one day. I've had a lot of fun in the past translating songs into other languages like Danish, German and Vietnamese. I think maybe it's a good way of reaching out to other people, singing songs in their own language. Anyway, I got Tokoroni translated by the representative of the Japanese cultural delegation in Dakar who gave me a phonetic version of the song. I really put a lot of time and effort into getting the pronunciation right. I sang Tokoroni for the first time on my first trip to Paris when I was invited to the preparation for the Rio summit which was organised at La Villette (near Paris). I turned up with my guitar and performed at this Japanese workshop there – and the amazing thing is everyone understood what I was singing!