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Les Frères Guissé's message of hope

New album: Yakaar


Paris 

10/07/2008 - 

On Yakaar, the first album of their career to be released internationally, Les Frères Guissé explore full musical diversity, playing a wide spectrum of Peulh rhythms as well as touching on Zulu and Mandinka sounds. RFI Musique hooks up with Senegal's brotherly trio who have been wowing audiences with their mix of vocal harmonies and acoustic guitars for over a decade now.



RFI Musique: Yakaar is the first global release of your career. How come it took you so long to break through on the international scene?
Djiby Guissé: Well, we've always insisted on doing things ourselves - and when you do things yourself it obviously takes a lot longer! What happened with this album was that Safoul Productions introduced us to Christian Olivier* from the Monslip label. Things evolved from there and the album ended up being mixed by Jean Lamoot who mixed Salif Keïta's latest album. We were totally blown away when we heard what he'd done with it!

Your album has a distinctly Peulh flavour, but the guitars also sound a bit Mandinka and Songhai at times… 
What we do is transpose techniques usually associated with the hodou - a traditional three-stringed Peulh lute - onto guitar. We play in pentatonic scales with a lot of triple beats. We also play arpeggio, but never with more than two notes at a time. The instrument's role is to follow the voice. It's the voice's voice in a way. We draw on several different styles from the Fouta (in northern Senegal) such as Pekaan, an epic story-telling style of music common amongst Soubalbé fishermen and Gambalaa, an incantatory style of singing used by the Ceddo hunters. Then there's Dillere, a declamatory style associated with the Maboubé weavers, Yela, the praise-singing hymns of the Awloube 'griots' and Rippoo which is traditionally sung by young girls sitting around in the moonlight. We're interested in exploring all aspects of Mandinka culture.
We feel close to a singer like Oumou Sangaré, for instance, who integrates Wassoulou influences in her work. And that's not surprising really because the Wassoulou region was originally inhabited by Peulhs, but when the Mande kings took control of the region they banned them from speaking Peulh. At that point, the Peulhs started singing in Bambara but they continued to use traditional Peulh harmonies in their songs. There's also an a cappella song on our album called Mi dani where we've integrated certain Zulu influences because we're fascinated by Zulu  polyphony. There's no traditional polyphony in Senegal, apart from certain Serere styles like Sine.

Who's responsible for composing the group's material?
We all write material and then do the arrangements together in the studio. CC le feu, for example, is a song that was written by Cheikh, but I did the arrangements. One of the compositions I contributed to the album was Laram, a sort of Sahelian blues.

Your new album is called Yakaar (Hope). Is that a symbolic title for you?
The most important thing for us with this album is to get our message, Yakaar - "live in hope" - across. We wanted to tell the world that those who are hungry, who hold out their hands and beg, are not necessarily lazy individuals incapable of effort. On a song like CC le feu, for instance, we  address the issue of war and the individuals in power who decide when and where wars will happen. Let's face it, arms are not manufactured in Africa, so they must be coming in from somewhere else! 

Besides putting across important social and political messages in music, do you believe artists have a role to play in shaping Africa's future?
Well, speaking for ourselves, we've been involved in a project called "Solid’Art avec l’Université" since 2003. We've played a number of fund-raising concerts where the proceeds have gone towards buying restaurant coupons for regional students who are struggling to get by on very little money at all. The proceeds from our concerts have also helped finance medical students going off into remote villages and dispensing medicine and treatment to the locals. We were also involved in setting up the music festival "Sénégal Folk" and ticket sales from this have been used to improve the Hann neighbourhood where we grew up. Hann used to have one of the most beautiful beaches in Dakar and a zoo, too. But these days the beach is polluted and the zoo's fighting for its survival.

Was your decision to get involved with helping students partially explained by the fact that your cultural centre, Planète Café, was located right opposite the gates of Cheikh Anta Diop University?
Yes, it was. Planète Café closed its doors in 2004 but it was an amazing place that not only revolved around music but encouraged all kinds of debates and exchanges, too. A lot of teachers from the university used to hang out there and they helped us get the 'student aid' project off the ground.

Waflash, a relatively new group on the Senegalese music scene, recently opened a similar venue in Thiès. What do you think about that?
We've given them our full support. In fact, we've already performed at their venue, the "Palais des Arts" (Palace of the Arts). I think it's fantastic that people are setting up places like this outside Dakar because everything tends to be concentrated in the capital and I don't think that's a good thing.

We've witnessed the emergence of a vibrant folk scene in Senegal in recent years with artists like El Hadji Ndiaye and Pap et Cheikh. Why do you think this is?
The folk movement has been around for at least fifteen years now thanks to artists like Ismaël Lô and, of course, Seydina Wade who was a pioneering force in the sixties and seventies. A lot of Senegalese stars like Youssou N'Dour, Omar Pène and Baaba Maal are moving in more of an acoustic direction these days, too. I think the public are increasingly faced with problems in their everyday lives and they need singers who are going to really talk to them, not just make them dance. Rappers have really been at the forefront of the 'meaningful lyrics' movement, doing songs that really make people sit up and think.

That's interesting because, in the process, rappers have broken with the tradition of Masla (the "art of compromise"). Do you think that's necessarily a good thing for Senegal?
Masla is an integral part of Senegalese culture. It's not good to take things too far, you know. It can be very dangerous. And if music goes too far, I think it oversteps its role. We're not westerners and we have to recognise that fact. Personally, I prefer Sutura (the art of "veiling one's words"). Sutura means you tell the truth but you couch it in certain terms.

What's the situation like for singers and musicians in Senegal right now?
Well, they've just voted in a parliamentary bill aimed at clearing up the copyright situation which is very messy right now. A lot of radio and TV stations in Senegal refuse to pay artists any kind of copyright. Things are about to change now, though, and the copyright organisation is going to become a proper company run by directors voted in by copyright holders. An 'anti-piracy' police is also going to be set up to combat illegal copying.

What projects do you have on the go at the moment?
Right now we're involved with a new project aimed at training youngsters from poor underprivileged backgrounds in various professions related to the music industry. We believe in instigating more equality - they should have as much chance as anyone else! One of our main occupations right now is trying to find partners to back the project. 

* lead singer of Les Têtes Raides)



 Listen to an extract from Baabaabe

Les frères Guissé Yakaar (Monslip/Distribution Warner) 2008
Concert dates: 18 & 19 July
at L’Entrepôt, Paris


Sylvie  Clerfeuille

Translation : Julie  Street