Given that the translation of
regard sur le passé
is ‘look at the past’, it is only right that a review of this masterful record should begin with some historical perspective.
It was made in Conakry in 1968 when Bembeya Jazz were at the peak of their powers. Their very existence was due in large part to Guinea getting independence from France a decade earlier. The country’s first president, Sékou Touré, was a music-lover and was determined to revitalise Guinean culture.
Music was the prime focus with each region being designated an orchestra. Instruments were purchased and eminent musicians dispatched to pass on their knowledge and skills. The desire to make modern sounds while referencing the country’s rich cultural heritage was a state-sponsored affair. From this fertile ground so much magic sprung.
In the small town of Beyla, a group, formed around the prodigiously talented guitar player Sékou Diabaté, won the regional competition in 1961 and became the Orchestre de Beyla. Diabate grew up in a traditional mandingo griot family. His nickname was “diamond fingers”. A cursory listen to his playing will explain why.
By 1968, the band had changed their name to Bembeya Jazz after the river that runs through their home town. Regard sur le passé was their most ambitious recording. It is radically innovative, consisting of one track spread over two sides of the LP and was conceived as a tribute to Samori Touré, the resistance fighter who died in 1900.
As elegiac laments go, it is unparalleled. But it’s much more than that. There is so much joy in this music it is hard to pick any one part that stands out, but sublime vocals of Demba Camara take some beating.
His mellifluous voice defies gravity. The way he holds the high notes brings to mind the soaring glide of a bird in flight. Hearing is believing.
