Craig Stephen takes
a Real World trip and traverses a few continents for us:
Nayda! has been
crafted by a trans-metropolitan act which mines the sounds of the Maghreb while
holding the other ear to the west, in other words a magical mish-mash of
influences and cultures.
The title refers
to the transition from autocracy to a more liberal society at the turn of the
century. It is a youth movement incorporating rappers, rockers, and jazzers and
expanding to the nation’s minorities, such as the Berbers and the Gnawa. And
while nayda can mean to party, it is also a reference to an intellectual
awakening.
Bab L’Bluz is made
by Brice Bottin (guitar, guembri and percussions), Jérôme Bartolome
(percussion, flute), and percussionist Hafid Zouaoui who met up at a music
festival in Marrakesh. Mansour also plays guembri, awisha and percussion on the
album. While the music and songs come from Morocco (and nearby Mauritania), the
recording took place in Lyon, southern France.
As mentioned,
Nayda! the album (which has been released by Real World) has an ear to the west
and early rock, but to the untrained ear it is a beguiling listen: the vocal
range and the unusual instruments – such as the guembri and the awisha – combine
to riveting yet confusing effect.
An introduction to
Nayda! is made simpler by a brief introduction to the songs and a translation
of the Arabic lyrics into English in the booklet that accompanies it. ‘Ila
Mata’ was inspired by the Tunisian poet Anis Shoshan, and is a call to search
for what can unite us instead of going towards everything that divides us.
“Until when will ignorance rule?/ How will the injustice last? Until when are
we forced to remain silent?/ Until when will violence will be glorified,” asks
Mansour pertinently.
‘Africa Manayo’
laments the centuries-old plundering of the continent’s resources by the West,
leading to exploited workers, a depleted soil, and mass poverty. “They’re
watching our children dying/ While our tears are watering the floor.”
Contrarily, ‘El Watane’ celebrates the richness of Africa while holding out
hope that poverty and slavery might be eradicated.
There are also a
number of songs that focus on love, life and African people, such as ‘Yemma’, a
tribute to all mothers, and the love song ‘Oudelali’.
There’s a solid
ground of influences on here, and no more so than on songs such as the
anti-corruption anthem ‘Gwana Beat’ (“Who tells the story of the citizens’
pain/ And the story of the crooks who destroyed this country?”), which is the
kind of song Robert Plant has been striving to write for decades. Or there’s
‘El Gamra’, played at full-throttle throughout which is deceptive as it’s a
song about the moon and is a festive song praising her restorative powers.
(Oi! … you can’t say that about Robert Plant - Hippy Ed)