Orchestra Baobab
Made In Dakar

THE REVIEW

Before addressing any considerations regarding the importance of a work as the one I am honored to rave about, let me state that "Made In Dakar" first and foremost results in a work as fine as it is spectacular, with intense, typical, and enchanting West-Central African vocalities: the impeccable opening entrusted to the lively and melodious "Pape Ndiaye," followed by the more subdued and subliminally evocative "Nijaay," in this sense is at least explanatory in this regard.

The driving core of the Orchestra Baobab traces its origins back to the early '70s, in the historically troubled Senegalese region of Casamance, also including within its ranks musicians and elements from neighboring geographical regions (Congo, Mali, Nigeria, and Togo) magnificently immersed in an expressive context tending to amiably balance the typical Cuban sounds (Salsa, Pachanga and so on), through the use of the usual tools for the purpose, and Afro-folkloristic stylistic canons by virtue of the fascinating use of typically traditional instrumentation belonging to their own native lands.

At the conclusion of last year, Orchestra Baobab seals, through this work, their significant and stable return to the international scene: after having recorded and released about twenty works between the seventies and eighties, the "Baobab" experience indeed had its epilogue in the second half of the eighties; only in the early years of the new millennium, thanks to the endorsement of the far-sighted World Circuit, almost two decades from the beginning of the long period of inactivity, they consolidate their (hopefully definitive) return by releasing this truly delightfully spiced condensed mix of pleasant and polite, almost overly composed and subdued for the abstruse musical times that grip us, sounds; a remarkable work filled with suggestions: gracefully transitioning from the fragrant calypso-like aromas of "Aline" to the cheerful jazz-tribaloid polyrhythms offered in "Ndeleng" to the Cuban-style liberties D.O.C., of which probably even the beloved Compay Segundo would have been proud, strummed in "Cabral."

Starting next May, the pseudo-Caribbean ensemble will tour throughout Europe bringing their lively and at the same time sad alegria for a respectable series of concerts: it is unfortunately to be noted that Italy [in contrast there are about ten scheduled dates just between neighboring France and Spain], unless unlikely last-minute reconsiderations, will not be touched by their (welcome) presence: yet another regrettable testimony of the blindness (indeed deafness) of those who should, even just by simply sniffing the surrounding, perform their job adequately.

But (I agree with you) no se puede tener todo from the bitter life.