Desert Blues

From Brazil’s saudade to the American blues and Ethiopia’s tizita, cultures worldwide have developed their own musical forms to express yearning, memory, and loss — feelings that transcend language. For the Tuareg, it’s assouf, a sound shaped by the struggle to preserve their heritage and the sorrow of a lost homeland.

Described as “the pain that is not physical,” the term assouf speaks to the emotional ache tied to loss — loss of land, freedom, and the nomadic way of life that once defined the Tuareg — and speaks to their history of exile and displacement, and their yearning for a time when life was closely connected to the land and the traditions that governed it. Better known as Desert Blues, assouf, like the American blues, transforms loss into art, soundtracking the Tuareg’s history of resistance and resilience. 

The Tuareg, or Kel Tamashek, are a nomadic ethnic group that live scattered across the Sahara Desert and the Sahel regions of North and West Africa, divided between Mali, Niger, Algeria, Libya, and Burkina Faso. Traditional Tuareg music is marked by the steady pulse of the tinde drum, and the melodic tones of instruments such as the tehardent, a three-stringed lute, and the imzad, a single-string bowed violin, mostly played by women. As the music of a nomadic people, it’s close to impossible to pinpoint a precise origin, but the rhythms and pentatonic melodies are related to traditions from across the Sahel, and share common roots with a varied but connected lineage of sounds stretching from flamenco in Spain to string music in North Africa and the Levant. 

Due to the shifting political landscape of their regions, the life of the Tuareg has changed radically during the 20th and 21st centuries. After the often violent eradication of French colonial rule in the early 20th century and the chaos that followed independence, the Tuareg found themselves spread across new national borders, often as minorities in countries like Mali, Niger, and Algeria. In constructing stronger, often Arab, national identities in these nascent countries, the Tuareg were often marginalized and discriminated against. Their struggles with new political orders led to multiple rebellions, which were met with violence and repression, forcing many Tuareg into exile. It was during the 1963 rebellion in Mali that a three-year-old Ibrahim Ag Alhabib, the future founder of desert blues pioneers Tinariwen, saw his father killed by the Malian Army. For Ag Alhabib and for countless others across the Sahara and Sahel, music became a crucial tool for expressing the pain of displacement, and a way to articulate their desire for freedom and their old ways of life. 

The countless young Tuareg men who were displaced in the late 1960s through the 1980s and began populating the cities soon became known as “ishumar,” a Tamashek corruption of the French word chômeur, meaning unemployed. The slur was reclaimed as a badge of honor, and the ishumar, whose ideas were being shaped by new experiences of travel, urban living, and work in sectors previously unfamiliar to Tuareg society, began envisioning a new independent Tuareg nation. The electric guitar, which was gaining popularity across West Africa, soon emerged as a symbol of political resistance and unity.

The modern, foreign instrument was particularly liberating for the Tuareg, as it allowed them to transcend the strict social norms of Tuareg society, which reserved specific instruments and songs for specific genders and social classes. Ishumar music was raw and deeply connected to the recent experiences of the Tuareg, while still being rooted in their tradition. It was a soundtrack for a generation of young Tuareg who were searching for meaning and purpose in a rapidly changing world.

The story of Tinariwen, the first and most enduring Tuareg guitar group, is that of the ishumar. Years after witnessing his father’s death at the hands of the Malian army as a child, Tinariwen founder Ibrahim Ag Alhabib fled with other Tuareg exiles to Algeria, where he wandered between refugee camps working odd jobs. One day, or so the story goes, Ag Alhabib built his own guitar from an oil can, a stick, and bicycle brake wire after being inspired by a Western film, and began making music that drew from traditional Tuareg folk and Arabic pop, as well as from the guitar music of Santana and Dire Straits. Around this time, in the Tamanrasset region of Algeria, he met future bandmates Hassan Ag Touhami and Inteyeden Ag Ablil, and Tinwariwen’s idiosyncratic sound began taking shape.

Their musical journey was temporarily interrupted when in 1980, like many Tuareg men, they enlisted in the Libyan Army under Muammar al-Gaddafi, where they were exposed to Pan-African and revolutionary ideologies. When they came back together as a group their music took on a much more political tone, so much so that in 1989 their music, which traveled far and wide on pirated cassettes, was banned by the Malian government. The band soon became known as “Kel Tinariwen” or “The Desert Boys.” Their sustained, resonant guitar notes capture the vast expanse of the desert, while their repetitive riffs weave hypnotic soundscapes that, together with their sparse harmonics, conjure a sense of longing and resilience. 

After decades of being well known amongst the Tuareg, in the 2000s Tinariwen’s music reached global audiences through their 2001 album The Radio Tisdas Sessions and the follow-up Amassakoul in 2004. 

After almost a dozen albums, Tinariwen are still arguably at the helm of the desert blues sound, but their success has also paved the way for a new generation of Tuareg musicians. The likes of Niger’s Bombino, Mdou Moctar, and members of Imarahan all credit Tinariwen as foundational to their music. The fathers of desert blues have had an immeasurable influence on this new generation of musicians, and the desert blues sound is still defined by the long, flowing guitar lines and minimalist yet powerful riffing mastered by Tinariwen, and themes are still rooted in resistance, freedom, and exile — after all, the problems faced by the Tuareg have changed little over the past 50 years.

Yet artists are increasingly moving beyond the initial template, adding their own twist by adding electronic production, or in some cases returning to more traditional Tuareg sounds. Kel Assouf for example combine the rhythm of the tindé — the goatskin drum traditionally played by women — with modern elements, producing a unique sound that blends techno and Tuareg music. Imarhan craft a raw, more simple sound with a softer, less “rock” edge, while the mostly female group Tartit embrace the subdued sounds of the tehardent, creating a quieter, more traditional sound which places their vocals at the center.

Megan Iacobini de Fazio

Ichichila

Tartit
Ichichila  cover

The Tuareg’s “desert blues” has long been a favorite among African music fans, and much of its current popularity should be credited to the female group Tartit, whose album Ichichila was among the first to reach Western ears. Unlike the electronics infused, global sounds of Imarhan, or the desert rock of Tinariwen, Tartit’s music is simple yet incredibly emotive, relying mostly on the tehardent (a three-stringed, plucked long neck lute) and imzad (a single-string bowed violin, mostly played by women), sparse electric guitar, hand claps, and call and response vocals to build their timeless grooves. 

Nomad

Bombino
Nomad cover

The early desert blues artists were influenced by the likes of Santana and Robert Plant, but when the sounds of the Sahara and Sahel reached global audiences in the early 2000s, it was the turn of Western guitarists to tune into the “exotic” sounds of their Tuareg counterparts. Dan Auerbach of The Black Keys is one of the artists who has been paying attention to the music coming from that part of the world, and his pairing with Niger’s Bombino on this album is a natural one. On Nomad Auerbach’s touch elevates the atmospheric quality of Bombino’s music, while maintaining its original, raw feel, a blend that helped him along the way to becoming an international star. But snazzy production or not, Bombino is a star in his own right, especially among the youth of Agadez, who view him as a powerful voice for their frustrations and a defender of their rights.

Afropentatonism

Girum Mezmur, Alhousseini Mohammed Anivolla
Afropentatonism cover

This record brings together two musicians from different sides of the African continent whose musical cultures have one major thing in common: the pentatonic scale. The five-note scale is at the basis of both Ethiopian and Nigerien music, and Girum Mezmur — who has been a major force in Addis Ababa live music scene for close to three decades and plays with the likes of Mahmoud Ahmed and Angelique Kidjo — and Alhousseini Anivolla — part of the Tinariwen movement and founding member of Etran Finatawa and Anewal — explore their similarities and differences on Afropentatonism. They are joined by four other musicians, including the late Ayele Mamo, a legendary mandolin player, and it’s interesting to see how traditional Ethiopian instruments like the krar and the masinqo lend themselves perfectly to the repetitive, hypnotic desert grooves of Tamashek music.

Imarhan

Imarhan
Imarhan cover

“Our music is more of a mix. It’s a bit more modern, more open to the world,” says Imarahan lead singer Sadam Ag Ibrahim in an interview with Andy Morgan about comparisons to Tinariwen. Imarhan are amongst the latest generation of desert blues musicians, and mix more urban and Pan-African influences into their music — such as on the funky cut “Tahabort” — while also being unafraid of stripping back the loud, rock guitars and returning to more folksy roots, perhaps thanks to the touch of their Tuareg producer Eyadou Ag Leche (who also happens to be Tinariwen’s bass player). “Idarchan Net” especially is one example of this more acoustic sound, with its tender guitar, subtle rhythms, and almost whispered vocals — enough to give you goosebumps.

The Radio Tisdas Sessions

Tinariwen
The Radio Tisdas Sessions cover

What an album to introduce the world to desert blues — a sound described by one critic who reviewed the album at the time as “strange and mysterious, hypnotic and exotic.” Produced by Justin Adams, The Radio Tisdas Sessions was recorded in a small, makeshift studio at a Tamasheq-language radio station in a remote desert town in Mali, and captures this stripped-back, live sound, letting the minimalist rhythms and hypnotic guitar lines pioneered by Tinariwen truly shine. Tracks like beautifully poignant “Le Chant Des Fauves,” sung by founder Ibrahim Ag Alhabib, show just how much the Tinariwen sound has changed over time, with louder, distorted guitars and a bolstered rhythm section of later albums resulting in a generally much heavier sound.

Aratan N Azawad

Terakaft
Aratan N Azawad cover

Terakaft’s Aratan N Azawad pulses with the intense, hypnotic sound characteristic of Tuareg desert blues, sharing much in common with Tinariwen but with atmospheres that feel more brooding and solemn. Founders Liya Ag Ablil and Inteyeden bring forth a bass-heavy, propulsive rhythm on tracks like “Alghalem,” while on the title track they strip it right back, pairing delicate guitar playing with subtle, pensive vocals. The album’s vocals shift from urgency to sorrow, and the band balances slow, jangling guitars with driving rhythms, capturing the longing and resilience inherent in displacement, but also the defiance and revolutionary spirit that has always defined the Tuareg.

Ishumar

Toumast
Ishumar cover

Formed in Paris by former freedom fighter Moussa Ag Keyna and his cousin Aminatou Goumar, Toumast build on desert blues foundations laid by predecessors like Tinariwen, but add touches of jazz, hip-hop, and other contemporary styles — a reflection of their time spent in the vibrant, multicultural French music scene. Ishumar is an eclectic album with a few surprising moments (which isn’t always the case in the sometimes samey realm of desert blues), such as the sudden Tamashek rap on the rousing “Maraou Oran.” Producer Dan Levy acts almost like a third member of the band, adding his unique bass playing and rhythmic flair to several tracks throughout, such as the slow-burning rager “Kik Ayittma,” which starts with Goumar’s plaintive vocals before exploding into a rousing chant buoyed by Levy’s drumming and Ag Keyna’s intricate guitar playing.

Zerzura [Original Soundtrack]

Ahmoudou Madassane
Zerzura [Original Soundtrack] cover

With its bluesy guitar licks, minimalistic approach, and subtle ambient sounds, this gorgeous psychedelic Tuareg album powerfully evokes the wide open spaces and dusty heat of the desert. The album is the soundtrack of the film  Zerzura, and was almost entirely improvised by Ahmoudou Madassane as he watched a rough cut of the film which he also directed and starred in. Like the film, which follows a nomad’s search for a mystical gold city, the soundtrack relies on sparseness and simplicity to conjure a dreamlike psychedelic world. 

Chatma

Tamikrest
Chatma cover

Tamikrest’s Chatma is a tribute to the resilience of Tuareg women, by a band who know the pain of displacement first hand, having been exiled from Mali to the refugee camps of Algeria. Their third album, recorded under the direction of Chris Eckman, combines the earthy grit of desert blues with rock and reggae influences, never wandering far from the genre’s origins but infusing it with new energy. Tracks like “Itous” offer a surprising reggae-inspired riff, while the opener “Tisnant An Chatma” blends Ousmane Ag Mossa’s unmistakable vocals, at once powerful yet always unhurried in their delivery, with swirling guitars and ululations. The psychedelic twists return on the sprawling “Assikal,” albeit more delicately, while “Takma” feels like the closest to the guitar-driven grooves of predecessors Tinariwen.

Tarkat Tajje / Let's Go!

Etran Finatawa
Tarkat Tajje / Let's Go! cover

Etran Finatawa’s 2010 album Tarkat Tajje / Let’s Go! sounds immediately different than other desert blues records — the call and response vocals on opener “Aitimani” are more cadenced and trancey that the usual free flowing ones of Tuareg bands, and the percussion is more prominent, with an emphasis on hand drums and other intricate rhythms. Niger-based Etran Finatawa are in fact one of the few bands to combine the musical traditions of two nomadic Saharan cultures, the Tuareg and the Wodaabe, creating a distinctive, rhythm, driven sound. The great protagonist of desert blues, the electric guitar, steps out of the limelight, but still holds everything together by providing a steady pulse that weaves through the layers of percussion and vocals. The focus here is more on subtle textures than on big, explosive shows of virtuosity, but the result is just as hypnotic.

Aman Iman: Water Is Life

Tinariwen
Aman Iman: Water Is Life cover

Tinariwen’s third album marked a definite shift towards a harder, more rock sound compared to the band’s previous two releases. Here, their typically sparse desert blues becomes fuller and more electrified: distorted guitar solos on standout “Assouf” are coupled with traditional, emotive call and response vocals and punctuated by handclap-like percussion, while “Matadjem Yinmixan” rolls forth with its propulsive rhythms and swirling guitars that give it a celebratory feel. Still, the record isn’t missing the more meditative, nostalgic atmospheres from Tinariwen’s earlier days, particularly on the lovely closer “Izarharh Tenere,” which will transport you right at a desert campfire, under a vast expanse of stars.

Ilana: The Creator

Mdou Moctar
Ilana: The Creator cover

 Mdou Moctar’s Ilana (The Creator) is a deeply political album that explores the present day implications of colonialism, particularly the exploitation of Niger’s resources. You don’t have to understand the Tamashek lyrics to feel the tenacity and strength with which Tuareg people have been resisting oppression for decades. It’s Moctar’s scorching guitar solos and urgent rhythms that convey this deep seated frustration, but always with a sense of pride and power — just listen to the mind-blowing solo on “Tarhatazed,” which seems to create an ever ascending vortex that leaves you suspended in its wake.

Black Tenere

Kel Assouf
Black Tenere cover

True revolutionaries of the desert blues genre, Kel Assouf have perhaps broken the Tinariwen mold more than any other group before them (although Mdou Moctar comes close), blending the fiercest edges of Tuareg rock with thunderous electronic production. Tamashek frontman Anana Harouna uses powerful guitar riffs to protest the injustices faced by his people, while Tunisia-born, Ammar 808 producer Sofyann Ben Youssef intensifies the sound with his techno beats and swirling organs, creating an audacious album that captures the anger and resilience of people who have been displaced or forced to migrate, whether from Mali or Tunisia.