To the extent Senegal has a jazz tradition, it's all mixed up. Around the time West Africa picked up
jazz, other New World styles were busy seeping in, including varieties from the Caribbean and
Brazil. The hybrid offspring that shot off never really locked into any specific sound.
And that's basically a good thing. Senegalese saxophonist Abdoulaye N'Diaye is equally at
home playing with a kora or a piano, something he demonstrates over and over again on
Taoué. He aims here to integrate his instrument within two contexts: the American jazz
quartet and the West African string ensemble.
The 29-year old hooked up with David Murray in 1999 while the tenor veteran was producing
Dieuf Dieul's Salimata (Justin Time, 2001). Murray, it seems, developed a taste for
Senegalese music in the '90s; he helped pull Taoué together in Dakar with the help of seven
African and three other American musicians.
Abdoulaye N'Diaye's debut has an interesting split personality: three tunes utilize a traditional
jazz approach (with American instruments); three cut down the middle (with traditional West African
instruments); and one shoots the wad with everyone on board. Interestingly, they appear in the
reverse order.
The opener, "Aduna," derives its name from an ancient Mande word which
simultaneously
implies "life," "the world," and "the universe." That's suitably
enormous for the polyphony assembled
here, which comprises four drummers and a surprisingly compatible array of six other instruments.
Senegalese star Tidiane Gaye lends high-energy Wolof vocals to give the piece thrust and
emphasis; djembé player Seydina Djiba perks things up to full-blown mbalax levels. And when
Edouard Mohammed Manga rips his kora apart in rapid clusters and runs, all hell breaks loose.
Then three pieces follow with N'Diaye leading an African ensemble. His lyrical alto voice runs
along a coursing stream, bubbling up now and then but always moving forward. Instead of
punching out tight units or contrasting phrases, he emphasizes continuity. It makes for an
interesting contrast with Manga's densely knotted and strikingly virtuostic kora solos.
Within a stricter jazz context, Abdoulaye N'Diaye adopts a decisively swinging affect, moving
fluidly through changes with the same momentum that he emphasized earlier. He introduces more
dynamics into his phrases, relying on the strengths of the rhythm section to keep things moving
along. In all fairness this band is excellent, perhaps because its members are serious out-jazzers
who retain the ability to play within the lines without breaking a sweat. David Murray keeps his
yelping and shouting under control, making it hard to resolve the two horns at times.
Rather than try to turn traditional West African instruments toward a strict jazz idiom, N'Diaye has
wisely chosen to integrate his horn within an over-reaching framework of improvisation. The
straightahead pieces on Taoué are solid, but the Senegalese tunes are downright brilliant.
That makes sense, really, given the who and what involved. Play those first four tracks over and
over again.
Visit Justin Time on the web.
~ Nils Jacobson