In the West when we talk about "great voice" we think of range, technique, colour... this is not the case in Africa.

A great voice in Mandinka country is a mysterious gift often tinged with magic: it is a power, acquired by initiation as much as by study - the power to manipulate people's emotions. This power has had such an impact on Manding society that I has led to strict classification: those who have it stand apart; they are both L revered and ostracised, they are closer to witchdoctors then they are to ordinary men and women.

The nine "voices" in this collection might seem to thee uninitiated to be unequal in quality, or frankly rustic. But an attentive ear will soon discover just what gives these singers their power and ranks them among the great: their emotional quality.

The Manding Empire at its height in the middle of the 13th century covered most of Sub Saharan West Africa with Guinea and Mali at the centre, then Senegal, and parts of Mauritania, the Ivory Coast, Burkina Faso, Guinea Bissau, Sierra Leone and the Gambia.

The official musicians, the griots, were a caste apart charged with keeping oral traditions, with the education of princes and the recording of official events in the days before anyone could write. The griots were above all the voice of those in power who never spoke directly but left it to them to formulate their views in a skilful way. In order to counterbalance the immense power that such a role implied, Manding society created panoply of prohibitions which guaranteed (more or less) that the "griots" did not benefit to the detriment of the "nobles". But the rules were broken and right through the ages Keitas and Soukhos (descended from the Emperor Sundjata) married Kouyatés and Diabatés (griots). Who can resist the griot magic?

It is in this context of power and rivalry that the destinies of the nine singers on this album ore interwoven. They all come from the control region of the empire (Mali and Guinea).

The album opens with an instrumental track. Recorded in 1970, "Alalaké" is perhaps the most beautiful kora duel ever captured by the microphone. When the American bluesman, Taj Mahal, heard it, he fell in love with the instrument and had one made in Casamance... there are innumerable versions of "Alalaké" both vocal and instrumental. This one brings together the two greatest kora players of their time, Sidiki Diabaté and Batrou Sékou Kouyaté in a splendidly nimble joust.

"Djigui" is drawn from on acoustic album which Salif Keita recorded in 1979 in Abidjan at the studios of the TV and radio station of Ivory Coast. This song by Kémo Kouyaté tells of people who will never deceive you: they are called "Djigui" which means "hope". Curiously this collection is opened by a Keita, a non griot.
We know the story of this noble who strayed among the casted people to the dismay of his parents.
What is perhaps less well known is that on the griot side there was also great resentment.
But who would dare oppose Salif? Albinos, it is said in Mandinka Country, are all sorcerers to some degree...

It is said that all those who have sung the praises of Sékou Touré: Sory Kandia, Demba Mama Kanté (sister of Mory Kanté) Djélifodé (of the Horaya Band) died before the head of state so that hey would not have time to disown him. Only Salif is still here!

"Seiba" is the most recent of these ten recordings (made in 2000). When Kouyaté Sory Kandia, independent Guinea's superstar, died, Kémo Condé had the honour, or the misfortune, of taking his place as singer with the Djoliba instrumental Ensemble. In spit of his talent, he never came out from behind the shadow of his predecessor - a fact about which he boasts for he knows that a famous griot provokes jealousy. "That is why", he says laughing, "that I am still alive!" The song, also called "Mamadou Bitiki" tells the story of a shop owner "Bitiki", a patron who bankrupted himself giving gifts to griots. The song is presented here in the longer version (16 minutes).

"Waraba" "The Lion" (1969). As well as being a sacred animal, the lion denotes courage, and nobility. It was also the symbol of Demba Camara, the legendary singer of the equally legendary Bembeya Jazz, the most famous group of Sékou Touré's Guinea. On stage, Demba was often compared to a dragon or a lion so forceful were his performances. He died in suspicious circumstances (falling from a moving car) which gave rise to a whole saga of rumours.

"Mansané Cissé" which tells the edifying story of a Don Juan, a monument of the classical Manding repertoire (1975). The supreme traditional singer Kouyaté Sory Kandia, uncontested master of the word under Sékou Touré, also met with a suspicious death just when he was at the height of his powers and when he still dared say certain truths to the visionary tyrant. He is accompanied on kora by Sidiki Diabaté, one of the two greatest virtuosi in Mali (cf. Alalaké) and father of Toumani Diabaté. One of the strengths of Sékou Touré's Guinea was that is I drew to Conakry the greatest musicians in I the entire Mandé region.

A model of breadth, grace and serenity, "Kanimba" presents us with another type of terror. Far from having a pretty voice, Sira Mory Diabaté produces a raucous and disturbing sound. Although she was an enviable singer in her youth, this griote from Kéla was the victim of a spell, which caused her to fall ill and lose her voice. But instead of disappearing from the scene, she became the most feared and the most respected female singer in post independence Mali. It was to her (or in her masculine guise, Banzoumana) that the national radio entrusted the announcement of grave events: wars, the death of a well known person... "When you hear her voice you are afraid", said her contemporaries. But her words are unequalled in terms of their classic purity and depth. In this song, she says that even a clever hairdresser is liable to make a mistake when plaiting tresses but she can tell a story putting each word in its rightful place so that not a single grain of the truth escapes (1977).

"Tira Makan" (1983) is another classic, the epic tale of Sundjata's Great War chief. This is Kassé Mady's version. He like Sira Mory is a Diabaté from Kéla - the family most noted as the custodians of history. He is accompanied by the Badéma, Mali's official orchestra, created in the years following Independence by Malian musicians who had studied in Cuba. Even by western standards, Kassé Mady possesses one of the most beautiful voices in modern Africa: supple, velvetine, light and airy. Why has he remained in the shade? In his case too, people imply that there have been "spells" and jealousies.

"Mandékalou" is he name that Kandia Kouyaté gave to this version of "Sundjata" the central epic of Manding history (1998). Kandia Kouyaté (not to be confused with Sory Kandia Kouyaté who was Guinean) is considered by many as the greatest living female singer in Mali. Powerful, luminous, perfectly in control, her voice seems to defy gravity. She too has been the victim of a paralysis which almost took away her speech... As we can hear, she won.

"Malisadio" (1980) is the story of a love affair between a young girl and a hippopotamus (the national symbol of Mali). The young girl has been "given" as a sacrifice to the river; the hippopotamus saves her but a hunter kills the sacred animal. In this version by Mory Kanté (vocals, balafon), one can hem the young girls crying and their refrain is one of the most touching melodies ever heard in the Mandé.

In "Paya Paya", Kadé Diawara sings at last the praises of a good man - perhaps if was Sékou Touré. She is accompanied by her husband on guitar. This singer, who suffers from mental illness, was Sory Kandia's stage companion when they both began with the Keita Fodéba's Ballet Africans and one can well imagine how she might have put him in the shade; her singing has on intensity that causes goose pimples. For this recording, taken from the only album she every recorded, she was asked to go to the bock of the studio so that her voice would not saturate the microphones; but more those the sheer power of her voice, it is the indescribably heartrending emotion in her singing which overwhelms us. No-one knows like Kadé Diawara does how to send shivers down the spine or how to bring tears to the eyes. Perhaps it is this gift which robbed her of her reason.

Hélène Lee