Posts Tagged ‘kora’

The Songlines Essential 10: Kora Albums

Posted on May 20th, 2016 in Features, Recent posts by .

The kora has become the defining instrument of West Africa. Simon Broughton picks his ten top albums.

Kaouding Cissoko - Kora Revolution Cover

Kaouding Cissoko
Kora Revolution (Palm Pictures, 1999)
Senegalese kora player Kaouding Cissoko played with Baaba Maal and was co-founder of Afro Celt Sound System. His debut album sticks to African instrumentation, but has a contemporary vibe. There’s great tama (talking drum) playing from Massamba Diop and guest vocals from Baaba Maal. Sadly, Kaouding died of tuberculosis in 2003, aged just 38.


Sidiki Diabaté & Djelimady Sissoko - Ancient Strings Cover

Sidiki Diabaté & Djelimady Sissoko
Ancient Strings (Buda Musique, 2000)
This was the first ever instrumental kora album, first released in 1970. The two headline players were Sidiki Diabaté (Toumani’s father) and Batourou Sékou Kouyaté, who both played in the Ensemble Instrumental National du Mali, although Djelimady Sissoko (Ballaké’s father) and N’Fa Diabaté also featured. It sounds truly groundbreaking.


Toumani Diabaté & Ballaké Sissoko - New Ancient Strings Cover

Toumani Diabaté & Ballaké Sissoko
New Ancient Strings (Rykodisc, 1999)
These two players grew up as neighbours in Bamako and this album pays homage to their fathers who recorded the original Ancient Strings (see above). At least two of the eight tunes here are versions of pieces on the old album, although they’re given new titles. One of the most beautiful of all kora albums, much more effortless than Ancient Strings.


Toumani Diabaté - The Mandé Variations Cover

Toumani Diabaté
The Mandé Variations (World Circuit, 2008)
Although I was tempted to chose Toumani & Sidiki to include a third generation of kora virtuosos, Toumani deserves a solo album and this is a masterpiece. He plays both traditional tunes and new compositions on a traditional instrument that belonged to his father and a new model with machine-head tuning keys.


Djeli Moussa Diawara & Bob Brozman - Ocean Blues Cover

Djeli Moussa Diawara &
Bob Brozman

Ocean Blues (Mélodie, 2000)
This is one of the most outstanding kora fusion albums. It features Guinean maestro and Rail Band alumni Djeli Moussa Diawara with American slide guitar king Bob Brozman. A meeting of musical worlds that shows what’s possible when the chemistry works. It ends with an extraordinary version of ‘Malaika’.


Dawda Jobarteh - Northern Light Gambian Night Cover

Dawda Jobarteh
Northern Light Gambian Night (Sterns, 2011)
Jobarteh is the Gambian spelling of Diabaté, but despite being son of the illustrious kora player Amadou Bansang Jobarteh, Dawda only took up the instrument once he’d migrated to Denmark. The traditional songs and instrumental tracks here are given clean modern arrangements with guitars, bass, African percussion, sax and Indian flute.


Sona Jobarteh - Fasiya Cover

Sona Jobarteh
Fasiya (West African Guild Records, 2011)
Sona is a cousin of Toumani and grand-daughter of Amadou Bansang Jobarteh. Fasiya brings a West African pop sensibility in which Sona sings, plays the kora and many of the other instruments as well. An impressive debut.


Seckou Keita 22 Strings Cover

Seckou Keita
22 Strings (ARC Music, 2015)
The kora is found in Mali, Guinea, the Gambia and the Casamance region of south Senegal. That is where Seckou Keita hails from and has both griot Cissokho heritage and royal Keita lineage. Now resident in the UK, he plays kora and sings on this glorious, completely solo album, which includes some traditional, but mostly original compositions and secured one of this year’s Songlines Music Awards.


Ballaké Sissoko - Tomora Cover

Ballaké Sissoko
Tomora (Label Bleu, 2005)
Here Ballaké, the other great Malian kora player, plays in a superb trio with Mahamadou Kamissoko on ngoni and Fassély Diabaté on balafon. The kora is a relatively recent addition to Malian music compared to these other two instruments. There is really varied repertoire here, including Toumani and singer Rokia Traoré as guests.


Ballaké Sissoko & Vincent Segal - Musique de Nuit Cover

Ballaké Sissoko & Vincent Segal
Musique de Nuit (No Format!, 2015)
There have been many ‘kora plus’ records – including Toumani with Taj Mahal, Sekou Kouyaté with Joe Driscoll and Seckou Keita with Catrin Finch. But the kora and cello duo of Ballaké and Vincent really stands out, both because of the contrasting timbres, but also because of the organic nature of the collaboration. This, the more recent of their two albums, is absolutely sublime, and won them one of this year’s Songlines Music Awards.

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Ballake Sissoko and Vincent Segal: conversations in the night

Posted on May 14th, 2016 in Features, Recent posts by .


Ballaké Sissoko and Vincent Segal won the Fusion award in this year’s Songlines Music Awards. The first enchanting meeting of kora and cello on the album Chamber Music was replicated with renewed intimacy on the duo’s 2015 album, Musique de Nuit. Nigel Williamson speaks to the duo.

Click here to discover all the winners in this year’s Songlines Music Awards

“It’s like a modern-day field recording,” says Vincent Segal. “We played on the roof of Ballaké’s house in Bamako under the stars. We started at midnight and played until we were dead, around 4am, without thinking and very relaxed, totally in the music. We recorded three nights and we could hear the murmur of the city drifting up. I love records where you can feel something is happening around the music like that. Everybody plays differently in the studio and it’s a bit claustrophobic. We by-passed that.”

Ballaké Sissoko agrees. “It’s true. The ambience of playing like that is very special. In the studio you have cues and production and we didn’t have any of that.”

They are talking about Musique de Nuit, the second exquisite album (reviewed in #111) of duets by Sissoko, the 48-year-old Malian kora maestro and Segal, the classically-trained French cellist-turned-world music adventurer.

The intimate, intuitive interplay between the two men was first heard on 2009’s Chamber Music, a genre-defying hybrid recorded at Salif Keita’s Studio Moffou in Bamako that drew richly on the twin heritages of West African oral tradition and European conservatoire classicism, spiced by the innate musical curiosity and openness of two musicians who seemed to respond almost telepathically to each other.

Since then they have toured the world together, playing 200 concerts as a duo and refining and developing their collaboration both on stage and in countless hours spent jamming, experimenting and improvising off it.

“We wanted to go further with the second record because of our experience playing together and practising in dressing rooms and hotel rooms,” Sissoko says. “The magic of the first album lay in the meeting itself and our coming together. We didn’t know how it was going to go. This record has come out of our shared experience since then, although it’s also very improvisational and natural.”

We are talking in the small studio-come-study on the ground floor of Segal’s elegant home in Paris’ Marais district, a short distance from Place des Vosges, the city’s oldest and most graceful square. He lives on a quiet back street but one with a famous musical past; a few doors down is the apartment where Jim Morrison died in his bath tub from a heroin overdose in 1971, a site still much visited by Doors fans. When I mention this morbid history, Segal nods knowingly and then raises the tone by pointing out that composer and conductor Pierre Boulez was also a one-time resident.


If Segal’s small studio doesn’t quite have the ambience of Sissoko’s roof terrace in Bamako, it has still played a significant part in their musical partnership. “We have played together a lot here when Ballaké is in France,” Segal explains. “When you are coming from Mali, most flights go via Paris so he is always passing through when he is touring.”

When Sissoko arrives, I don’t recognise him at first; gone are the African robes he wears on stage and he’s dressed in contemporary Paris street wear, dark jeans and a neatly tailored cream jacket. He chats affably in French, with Segal translating into English for him, although his colleague also amplifies and elaborates so that a couple of sentences from Sissoko sometimes produces a five minute ‘translation’ so that by the end it isn’t quite clear who has said what.

Not that it matters, for to spend any time with them is to be struck by the seeming ability to read each other’s minds that has sprung from their musical collaboration.

“We seem to understand each other without talking. It’s about respect,” Sissoko says. “We were born in the same month and the same year, April 1967,” Segal adds. “We’ve both got sons and daughters around the same age and we’ve seen each other’s children growing up and we had the same kind of early life and training, practising our instruments. We are very similar. We can stay in the same room together for days without doing anything except playing.”


As if to emphasise the closeness of the extended family the two men have formed, halfway through our conversation, Sissoko’s son Mohamed arrives. He hasn’t followed in his father’s footsteps to become a musician but plays football for France’s leading club, Paris St Germain, and his feet are said to move as fast as his father’s fingers on the strings of the kora.

“I don’t want to force him to play the kora because I was never forced. My father never showed me how or what to play,” Sissoko says. Given that his father was the great Djelimady Sissoko, whose 1970 LP Cordes Anciennes with Sidiki Diabaté, the father of Toumani, was the first ever kora duets album, I express some surprise at this. Segal takes up the story: “He watched and listened, as you do. But he is totally self-taught. He never had lessons. I meet Western musicians sometimes who say they want to go to Mali and learn to play the kora from a maestro. But that’s not how it works. Ballaké plays very differently from his father. There is transmission but it’s not by tuition.”

He goes on to explain that Ballaké was only 13 when his father died, by which time he had only been playing the kora for two years. As the oldest son he then had to leave school and joined the Malian national orchestra to become the family’s breadwinner, a story Segal illustrates by flicking open his laptop and showing us archive footage of the 13-year-old backing Kassé Mady Diabaté. At the flickering sight of his youthful self, Sissoko shrugs a sheepish grin.

I had assumed that the initiative for their collaboration had come from Segal, an audacious musical knight errant who has abseiled fearlessly across the contours of classical, jazz, rock and world music and whose CV includes playing in symphony orchestras, a spell with the Lyon opera, the trip-hop electronica duo Bumcello and collaborations with Elvis Costello, Cesaria Evora, Sting, Mayra Andrade, Susheela Raman, Blackalicious and Carlinhos Brown among others. But he soon corrects me.


“It was Ballaké’s idea. He discovered the cello in Greece, playing with Ross Daly. Then he saw me playing with the American singer Chocolate Genius and he came to me and said perhaps we could play together. It wasn’t a concept. He just liked the sound of the cello.”

What was it Sissoko liked about the sound? “I think it was the combination of bow and pizzicato plucking and I thought we could construct a different kind of collaboration,” he says. “I was looking for something that could go beyond one recording or one record or one session, something that could progress and develop.”

Segal has his own collaborative models and talks enthusiastically about the piano and double bass duets recorded by Duke Ellington, one of his great musical heroes, and Jimmy Blanton. He also cites the groundbreaking 1967 West Meets East album of violin and sitar duets by Yehudi Menuhin and Ravi Shankar. “As a classically-trained musician, Menuhin really inspired me,” he says. “He was the first guy who had respect for music from all around the world and understood that there was deep music everywhere, not just in the Western classical tradition.”

His background in world music runs surprisingly deep. “I grew up listening to classical music but a lot of blues and jazz too, and with my cello I was always playing along to all different kinds of records, looking for different musical worlds,” he explains. “At 17 or 18 I was asking myself what to do with the rest of my life. Should I stay playing classical music in an orchestra? I felt I wanted to jump but I didn’t just want to be a jazz player either. I always loved jazz but I wanted more than that, too.”

A defining moment came during a year spent on a scholarship studying classical music in Banff, Canada. “While I was there I met a film director called Michael Snow and he persuaded me I could do whatever I wanted. When I came back to Paris I was living next door to a restaurant in Pigalle called Tam Tam Sagaie and in front of the restaurant the late promoter Mamadou Konté used to hold the Africa Fête. So I heard African music there – Youssou, Kassé Mady, Mory Kanté, Ousmane Kouyaté, Salif Keita… all of them.”

He began playing sabar and cello duets with an African drummer and became Papa Wemba’s stand-in bass guitarist. “He used to call me when his musicians couldn’t get a visa and ask me to play at one or two days notice. I wasn’t much of a bass player but it was a good school. Then I met Ballaké…”

The gentle atmospherics and relaxed mood of Musique de Nuit suggest an informal but high-class jam session but, I suggest, it must take a lot of arranging to sound so effortless. Not so, Segal says. “There’s a lot of love goes into what we are doing and the music comes from a lot of practising together. But there aren’t any arrangements. One of us starts and the other builds on the melody and then we go. That’s how we play. There’s no pre-planned structure. Some of the pieces on the new record we had been playing in dressing rooms and so on for years, but some of it is new stuff that emerged during the recording.”

Sissoko, he says, is unusual among West African musicians in his ability to be spontaneous. “Malian music is oral music but surprisingly many Malian musicians are terrified of improvising. They always play the same stuff, whether they are jelis or not. You have to learn not to be afraid and, for me, Ballaké is the king of improvisation.”

The pair have just returned from playing at a Berlioz festival in Vienne, France. “We went on straight after the Te Deum and I put some lines of Berlioz in what we were playing and Ballaké started improvising. Everybody wondered how he knew Berlioz so well, but he didn’t actually know it all. He’d only heard his music for the first time the day before.”

If there is more of Segal than Sissoko in our interview, it is not simply that the cellist has more to say but a conscious decision to get his side of the story, for an in-depth interview with Sissoko appeared in #91 on the release of his solo album, At Peace. Given that Segal produced and played on that album, I wonder how they differentiate between solo recordings and fully collaborative projects. “That record came from my head and I knew exactly what I wanted to do,” Sissoko says. “He was totally organised and he was in charge,” Segal adds. “It was more produced than what we do together. When we are a duo, there is no boss. It’s a conversation based on playing together without separation like classical music and without overdubs and headphones and lots of production.”

He describes the sound of the new album as “raw and husky” and admits that some of the strings are slightly out of tune on the second track ‘Passa Quatro’. “But I defend that and I love to leave in the mistakes,” he says. “I was talking about this with the flute player Magic Malik and he says mistakes in music are a gift. Now we have auto-tune, but that’s not what it is about. It’s about playing together in the moment.”

He begins to tell a story about Sissoko breaking a fingernail during the recording and the measures that were necessary to fix it. “Two big guys going into a beauty salon for women in Bamako and asking them to do Ballaké’s nails. You can imagine how everybody was looking at us.” By now Sissoko is cracking up with laughter at the memory. “On some of this record you can hear that his nail is a bit rough. But that’s life…”

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Seckou Keita: A man in motion

Posted on May 13th, 2016 in Features, Recent posts by .

Seckou Keita

Seckou Keita (photo by Andy Morgan)

Seckou Keita won the Africa & Middle East category in the Songlines Music Awards 2016. Over the past decade Seckou Keita’s various projects have been written about within our pages. His latest album and tour features just him and the 22 strings of his kora. Jane Cornwell talks to him about his journey so far.

Click here to discover all the winners in this year’s Songlines Music Awards

Seckou Keita isn’t an easy man to get hold of. The Nottingham-based drum and kora maestro is in constant demand, and perpetual motion: touring, collaborating, recording. Performing and hosting workshops in schools, art centres and international festivals such as WOMAD, or producing and starring in Do You Speak Djembé?, the interactive percussion spectacle that has taken France by storm. Consulting and participating in Sewa Beats, a company that offers corporate learning through rhythm and music. Working in collaboration with the International Committee of the Red Cross, the humanitarian organisation Seckou first encountered as a child growing up in civil war-torn Casamance, the area of Senegal south of The Gambia. Doing continuous press interviews for Clychau Dibon, his 2013 album with the Welsh harpist Catrin Finch, and for his similarly Top of the World, solo album, 22 Strings (reviewed in #109) – which he’ll be touring live throughout the UK in the autumn.

“I haven’t really stopped moving since I left Senegal in 1996,” says Seckou, 37, when, after much trial and error we eventually meet on a Sunday morning in a café at Kings Cross St Pancras, from where he’ll be catching a train to Paris. “This is what I do to maintain the success I have. It can be disorienting, but playing music grounds me. As soon as I grab my instrument I’m there, in the moment.”

The instrument he’s most associated with is the kora, the harp-lute of West Africa, as traditionally played by the griot bards of the Mande culture and brought to Western attention by the Grammy-winning likes of Mali’s Toumani Diabaté. But as his album title attests, Seckou’s kora is different. Where most koras have 21 strings, the southern Senegalese version of the instrument has an extra string that invests its sound with added rhythm and groove. You can hear it in the polyphonic explorations of his latest recording, especially in the elegantly funky closing track, ‘Future Strings in E’, a reworking of his acoustic duet with Finch – she of the ascending chords and 47-string-long glissandi – on Clychau Dibon.

Seckou will later outline the sonic differences between the 21-string and 22-string kora in terms of missing notes and odd and even octaves, in the same patient yet animated way he delivers his workshops, and teaches the students who come to his Nottingham home, with its basement studio (in which he recorded 22 Strings in one take) for kora lessons. Upbeat and chatty in jeans, T-shirt and pork pie hat, his instrument resting in a black case next to him, Seckou is as charismatic offstage as he is when performing – legacy, perhaps, of the precocious child who was nicknamed Seckou Jalin’ding or ‘Seckou the little griot.’

Griots aren’t traditionally called Keita, of course. They have names like Cissokho, Kouyaté and indeed, Diabaté. Keita – à la Salif – is the kingly appellation given to those descended from the emperor Sunjata Keita, who founded the Malian empire in the 13th century; Seckou’s father, a wandering holy man who disappeared from his life soon after he was born, was one such descendent. Those griot surnames – bestowed on those born to sing the praises of kings – are there on his mother’s side; his maternal grandfather, Jali Kemo Cissokho, was one of the most respected griots in all of southern Senegal. His grandmother Bintou ‘Ando’ Konté and extended maternal family are all griots.

“Some of my earliest memories are of music,” says Seckou, who grew up in Lindiane, a suburb of Ziguinchor, the capital of the Casamance region. “Musicians from all over Ziguinchor would come to my grandfather’s compound to play; the female griots would assemble there to meet with my grandmother, who was one of the best singers in the area.” He adds with a grin, “if she was late getting ready, they would sit there and wait for her. Sometimes we’d end up sharing our breakfasts with these ladies before they went off to sing at naming ceremonies or weddings.”

“Playing music grounds me. As soon as I grab my instrument, I’m in the moment”

Seckou was just five years old when war broke out, a battle for the independence of the Casamance region that continues to this day. This, too, is an early memory. “The sound of the first gun was shocking,” he says. “Then it started repeating, very, very loudly, and my grandfather came running inside the house and after a while asked all my uncles and the big boys to dig a hole so they had a safe place for me and the ladies to hide in. As the day went by, the shooting slowed down but we kept lying on the floor until my grandmother got fed up and decided she wanted to go and smoke her pipe.”

Jali Kemo was a hard taskmaster, determined to shield his male dependents from the temptations associated with  being a professional musician. Nonetheless, Seckou was left to teach himself the kora. He watched and learned, soaking up the waterfall of rhythm before picking up the instrument aged seven and then, as a teenager, becoming a fixture of the Ziguinchor music scene. Naturally curious, Seckou also explored the kora repertoire of the neighbouring Wolof, Fulani and Djola traditions, as well as his own Mande songbook. He experimented with tunings.

Seckou Keita

The Keitas are descended from the 13th-century Malian emperor, Sunjata Keita. Seckou holds a photo of his grandparents (Bintou Ando Konté and Jali Kemo Cissokho)

The drumming came later, this time with lessons from masters. He learned seourouba, djembé, sabar, and the griot form of percussion known as jali dundun. For a long while, even when living in the UK and touring Europe with the likes of Sierra Leonean musician Francis Fuster, and the Afro-Celtic dance band Baka Beyond (whose founders Martin Craddock and Su Hart helped Keita produce his first solo kora album, 2003’s Mali), Seckou didn’t know how to answer questions about his profession. Drummer or kora player? He wasn’t sure. “Now I just say I’m a musician.” He pauses, smiles. “I mean, they both use very different techniques; it’s unusual to find someone who can master the two. If I play the drum I really have to look after my hands,” he says, spreading fingers with shortish nails manicured especially for kora playing. “Drumming for me is about the heartbeat, about connecting with the earth, with joy, with dance. Whereas the kora can make you cry, for all the right reasons.”

And especially when Seckou plays it. Having dazzled crowds as part of his uncle Jali Solo Cissokho’s band at competitions in Dakar, in a collaboration with Cuban and Indian musicians in Oslo, Norway, aged just 17, or during a tour of India with respected violinist Dr L Subramaniam, his horizons opened. By the time he settled in England in 1999 he was on his way to repositioning the kora as an instrument rooted in tradition but progressive and edgy enough for the now.

He taught at WOMAD and at SOAS, founded the family band Jali Junda (Griot Family) and a jazz-influenced quintet and quartet featuring his sister, the singer Binta Susso. He toured the world, and then toured it again and again. In March 2012 he was giving a concert to a UN delegation in Rome when he was asked to travel to Wales, to fill in on rehearsals for a collaborative project with Welsh harpist Catrin Finch; sudden political strife in Mali had prevented Toumani Diabaté, the project’s kora player, from attending.

“My initial impression of the harp wasn’t positive,” he admits. “I thought it was stuffy and conservative. So I was so surprised at the level we reached. Of course the harp is chromatic and has more strings than the kora, and the rhythms are different. The harp is more straight, say, while the kora has more wiggle.”

The phenomenal success of Clychau Dibon – recorded with Toumani’s blessing, and winner of a Songlines Music Award in 2014 – piqued Seckou’s decision to record a quiet, unadorned kora album featuring, well, just kora.

Mali was called a solo album but it had drums, violin, guitars, even banjo,” says Seckou, whose six-album discography spans collaborations with everyone from flamenco singers to Juldeh Camara, the one-string ritti (fiddle) player from The Gambia. A project with the inspirational Cuban jazz pianist Omar Sosa is currently in the works.

“Over the years I felt that I’d developed my playing and composition to the point where I could do a kora album that would remind people of the tradition,” Seckou continues. “All this kora playing with wah-wah pedals and stuff has got too much for me nowadays. I might play in a different way if I wasn’t traditionally trained.”

He nods at the case on the ground next to him. “You could probably pick up my kora and play two or three things on that straightaway. But then you would need a bass line, a pattern. I mean, it’s like there’s the motorway,” he says with a smile, “and then there’s the A-road, or the B-road. Good training takes patience.”

The tracks on 22 Strings are mostly originals, nonetheless. But they are originals that have been composed in the traditional way, and are invested with a history and wisdom that stretches back centuries, with stories and emotions. ‘Mikhi Nathan Mu-Toma’ (The Invisible Man) tells of his father, who passed away just after the adult Seckou had discovered his whereabouts (in Bamako, Mali) and was on his way to see him. Instrumental tracks with storytelling titles such as ‘The Path from Gabou’, and three tracks featuring Seckou’s rich, emotive Mandinka vocals.

“In composition, two things are very important: the melody and the voice. If I’m doing an instrumental that’s really hypnotic, sometimes adding a voice is just too much. Other times you feel like a groove can be enhanced with lyrics sung over the top.” Another smile. “I started singing young,” he says. “But there were so many amazing singers in my family that I didn’t want to open my mouth. Like all things, my confidence developed with time.”

We talk of the forthcoming 22 Strings tour, with its accompanying visuals and explanations of the meanings behind the names of the strings: dibon, the second string on the kora’s left-hand side, is named after a bird species that live together all day but at night sleep on separate branches, finding each other the following morning by calling and responding. Téma-julo is the middle string, the magical 22nd string that is missing on all 21-string koras. The kumare-kang string is named after a bird with a loud, clear voice.

“I’ll be bringing the spirit of the album on tour with me,” he says. “I believe that anything made from the heart will go to another heart. I wanted to bring the kora back to its own land, where it belongs. I want everyone who listens to it to think they’ve got more time than they realise in life.” Mindful that he has to catch a train, I set about winding the interview up. Seckou flashes a grin. “No rush, I’m not in any hurry.”

This article originally appeared in Songlines #111. Seckou’s album 22 Strings is out now on Arc Music.

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Toumani & Sidiki release new EP

Posted on October 23rd, 2014 in News, Recent posts by .


Photography by Youri Lenquette

Five previously unreleased tracks from Toumani and Sidiki have been made available as a digital-only EP through World Circuit Records

Taken from the recording sessions for their self-titled debut as a duo earlier this year, the five tracks are a welcome extension of this widely-acclaimed album. A Top of the World selection in our 100th issueToumani & Sidiki was only the third album of kora duets ever recorded, and ‘every note in [its] rich tapestry of strings is exquisitely calibrated in the pursuit of perfection’. 

Available now via iTunes or the Toumani & Sidiki website.

European tour dates:

October 29 | Treibhaus, Insbruck, Austria
October 30 | Moods, Zurich, Switzerland
October 31 | La Spirale, Fribourg, Switzerland
November 1| Festival B-Sides / Luzern / Switzerland
November 2 | Palace / St Gallen / Switzerland
November 5 | Porgy and Bess / Vienna / Austria
November 13 | Bozar / Bruxelles / Belgium
November 14 | De Roma / Antwerp / Belgium
November 15 | Rasa / Utrecht / Netherlands
November 17 | Bimhuis / Amsterdam / Netherlands
November 18 | De Centrale / Gent / Belgium

Toumani & Sidiki perform for a BBC 2 live session at Glastonbury 2014:

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