Etran de L’Aïr perform April 8 at Neumos.
by Dave Segal
Not to get all chamber of commerce-y about it, but Seattle has played a crucial role in laying the foundation for Saharan rock’s current popularity. In the ’00s while based in the Emerald City, the esteemed global music label Sublime Frequencies issued transformative releases by Group Bombino, Group Doueh, and Koudede. Thus began the groundswell of Western interest in heat-hazed, mantric rock that’s imbued with the blues’ ability to transmute oppression into transcendent art.
But the real boom in guitar-centric African music occurred in the 2010s, when artists such as Bombino, Mdou Moctar, Tinariwen, Les Filles de Illighadad, and Tamikrest broke out into America’s live circuit. Etran de L’Aïr have joined these compelling musicians in the 21st century’s great Desert Rock Invasion.
Striking out from Agadez, Niger, Etran de L’Aïr (henceforth, EDL) consist of three brothers and a cousin: bassist Abdoulaye “Illa” Ibrahim, drummer Alghabid Ghabdouan, guitarist/vocalist Moussa “Abindi” Ibra, and guitarist/vocalist Abdourahamane “Allamine” Ibrahim.
They formed in 1995 as young lads (group leader Abindi was 9), playing Niger’s demanding wedding circuit and singing in Tamasheq, a language spoken mainly by nomadic tribes in North and West Africa. Very few Americans know Tamasheq, which could be considered an impediment to enjoyment, but the grain and intensity of EDL’s vocals make it easy to understand the players’ profound joy and sadness.
According to EDL’s Portland-based label, Sahel Sounds, the members belonged to nomadic families that settled in Agadez after escaping the droughts of the 1970s. When they started the group, EDL only had one acoustic guitar and they’d thwack a calabash with a sandal for percussion. Before they attained American patronage, EDL would haul their own gear while on foot, sometimes traversing 25 kilometers (about 15 miles), to play free gigs.
Now three albums deep into their official music-biz career, EDL have adapted to this hemisphere’s protocols. That being said, their songs feel as if they are theoretically infinite and that they only truncate them into manageable durations to placate the demands and attention spans of the Western music industry. On their home turf, though, EDL have been known to play sets that would make Springsteen’s band look like slackers.
Saharan rock is a distant cousin of America’s desert rock, which arose in 1997 out of jam sessions manifested by stoner-rock behemoths Kyuss. While both strains of desert rock rely on repetition to drive home their incisive riffs, and both have their psychedelic moments, the American brand doesn’t tap into spirituality and strife like its African counterparts do—unless you count running out of marijuana and getting sunburned to be serious hardships.
With the 2018 debut album, No. 1, EDL established their galvanizing approach and have continued on that path with few deviations through 2022’s Agadez and 2024’s 100% Sahara Guitar. The opening track from No. 1, “Etran Hymne,” bears rough fidelity, but the guitars’ liquid gold tone is buoyed by beats that have a lopsided propulsion. What sounds like an agitated women’s choir ululates wildly, while the men sing in unison with poised defiance. That combo never gets old. On “Agrim Agadez,” the awkward beats clash with the coruscating guitar riffs. This is peak Saharan rock: roiling, trance-inducing juggernauts with intricately interlocking guitar motifs and massed vocals conveying indomitable joy among hardships that comfortable Westerners cannot fathom. “Hadija” conjures slow-rolling hypnosis with those mad lady trills in the background. Yes, there’s very little variation in the rhythms, but the guitar/bass/vocal interaction is often riotous.
Sophomore LP Agadez boasts fuller production, boosting the songs’ impact while avoiding slickness. “Imouwizla” instantly pleases with easy-rolling blues rock, albeit with that patented rhythm which feels as if you’re on a merry-go-round with a sputtering motor. The galloping and undulating rock of “Toubouk Ine Chihoussay” accrues an irrepressible momentum, with the main cyclical guitar riff positively spangling with euphoria. If EDL have a “hit” single, this is it. “Karade Marhane” is an outlier with its darker mode and coiled rhythm, but it’s still a trance-inducer. The album closes with “Tarha Warghey Ichile,” a celebratory banger that begins at a phenomenal velocity and then accelerates near the end. You can imagine this went down a storm at the many Nigerien weddings EDL played.
EDL’s latest album, 100% Sahara Guitar, begins auspiciously with “Ighre Massina,” in which ebullient vocals, tight, cyclical guitar riffs (Moussa and Allamine are the Tom Verlaine and Richard Lloyd of Africa), and ratatat drums that make you feel as if you’re running with one leg much shorter than the other. “Igrawahi” is EDL’s most laid-back song, and it’s nice to hear some variation in tempo and intensity. The singing is as gorgeous and yearning as the sparkling, mesmerizing guitars. In a better world, “Igrawahi” would be a smash hit. “Amidinine” rolls like a diamond-encrusted tank over dunes, unstoppable and glinting in the unforgiving sun.
As exhilarating as their recordings are, EDL are, by all reports, even more exciting live. They’re traveling over 7,000 miles to hit Seattle, so you’d best believe Etran de L’Aïr will bring the desert heat to zap your blues.
Etran de L’Aïr perform April 8 at Neumos, 7 pm, 21+.