This year marks 15 years since Fatoumata Diawara’s acclaimed debut album Fatou. In that time, she has amassed a significant repertoire of textures and collaborators, working with Gorillaz, Lauryn Hill, Herbie Hancock, Oumou Sangaré, the Orchestre Poly-Rythmo de Cotonou, and many others in electric and acoustic sonic spaces. She’s been called the first solo female electric guitarist in Mali and is certainly the first Black female guitarist to have a signature Gibson to her name. In short, she’s a star, and one still very vibrant.
Diawara’s new album Massa is a dynamic and polished demonstration of her outstanding range and skill. At the production helm is multi-instrumentalist -M- (Matthieu Chedid), who is (among many other things) Diawara’s bandmate in the French-Malian ensemble Lamomali. This history produces stellar creative chemistry and an elevated array of folk and pop sounds.
A burst of electric funk gets things started with the catchy “Djanne”, as Diawara entreats the titular traveler to remember his roots and values as he journeys far and wide. Bouncy, 1980s-style synthesizer work by -M- and Joseph Chedid lays a backdrop of bright hues that emphasize the well-controlled nuances of Diawara’s powerful vocals. It’s a jaunty start, one that only hints at the soundscape to come.
This particularly vibrant type of pop sheen continues over the next couple of tracks. With a disco bassline and a lilting melody, “Mogo” is the first song to showcase Diawara’s full skill set as a vocalist and guitarist. “Tcheba” is another snappy piece, this one scorning dishonest men with especially hearty keys courtesy of -M-. The guitar parts of thoughtful “Sigui” comprise a twangy mix of acoustic and electric; it’s one of the album’s most complex and satisfying songs. It leads into the title track, a song of divinity and praise that features lush layers of vocals over gentle percussion and sliding guitar. Wistful piano makes “Lahidou” a soft landing; it, along with the following track “Fala”, makes a soothing mid-album pair.
Picking up the pace again, “Denko” highlights the need to support children with disabilities. Bluesy “Farana” has a midtempo bite. Diawara pays tribute to her late father and musical forerunners like Amadou Bagayoko and Toumani Diabaté on “Tati Bakary”, for which she summons a poignant grit to her voice. The final tracks, “Nden” and “Djo,” contemplate motherhood and humanity with the utmost care. We thus end Massa in a profoundly different place, sonically and emotionally, than we started it.
There’s a truly lovely arc to Massa, one that feels organic and sincere. Fatoumata Diawara is a charismatic performer whose skill set has extraordinary breadth and depth, and this release is perhaps her fullest demonstration of it thus far. At its core, it is an album in keeping with everything she’s done: honest, mellifluous, often fun. What it brings to her repertoire is a fresh, contemporary variety of sounds that show how Diawara continues to grow, even in her well-deserved and well-established stardom. This is consummate pop music in the best way, and to hear Diawara keep moving forward after already doing so much is inspiring.