Those classic images of rebellion in rock n’ roll - the two-fingered salutes from pampered celeb stars or Johnny Rotten shyly saying ‘shit’ on national television or Joe Strummer calling for a revolution or Sinead O’Connor tearing up a photo – are small potatoes when put against the travails of musicians in northern Mali. Banned from playing “Satan’s music” under pain of death by Islamic jihadists, the musicians here go ahead and do it anyway.
“Our way of resisting is our instruments.” Johadist groups have infiltrated northern Mali, forcing musicians on the run to the south, over the neighbouring borders and underground. With a myriad of characters and stories to focus on, director Johanna Schwartz picks out a select few. There’s Disco, an outspoken singer who fears the approaching jihadists because, well, she’s outspoken and has already been imprisoned for six months. As she and Khaira, another singer, prepare for a concert to defy Sharia Law, Songhoy Blues (who recently played in Ireland) journey to the UK and, under the patronage of Damon Albarn and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ Nick Zinner, set about recording an album in a studio for the first time. Meanwhile, guitarist Moussa put his life at risk when he returns north to Gao to find his wife who refused to travel south with him.
Although invoking memories of the recent Timbuktu and the not so recent Benda Bilili (a documentary on a band of homeless paraplegics that escape Kinshasa to record an album in England) it’s actually One Knows About Persian Cats that this documentary has more in common with - a docu-drama about a small band of musicians secretly recording music and sneaking out of Iran to play at a London concert. Like the Iranian police and officials in that film, the jihadists here are spectres: they and their horrific acts of violence are spoken of but are rarely seen. When they are glimpsed director Johanna Schwartz doesn’t shy away from the harrowing images: One did not have time to prepare for footage of a thief’s hand being cut – not chopped – off. That’s what these musicians face.
So next time Mojo (or someone) do a Top Ten Acts of Rebellion in Music (or something) they might want to take out the one where a folk singer decided to play with a different guitar and mention these brave souls.
