Tunng with Tinariwen @ The Rainbow, Birmingham – 30th March 2009
Tunng as a group are something of a paradox, mixing traditional-sounding acoustic folk with the beeps, whirs and buzzes of ambient electronica and a palette of makeshift percussive instruments. This usually makes any gig of theirs an intriguingly eclectic affair. So I was even more intrigued to hear about their new collaboration with African ‘desert blues’ group Tinariwen. As I watched the rag-tag groups of vaguely hippy-ish, vaguely ‘alternative’ punters enter the graffiti-plastered warehouse, I thought, would this be an eclecticism too far?
As a fan of Tunng’s ‘folktronica’ stylings, I knew partly what to expect. But I hadn’t quite prepared myself for the three men that strolled on to the stage. Ibrahim, Eyadou and Said, in their white traditional north African dress and turbans, would be an unusual sight for the usual gig-going public used to the recycled rock trends and posturing.
Picking up their instruments, Tinariwen started up the show with a couple of their own tunes which marry a western guitar sound with distinctly traditional percussion and vocals. The droning, almost hypnotic rhythms totally suited their image and painted a fascinating picture of desert nomads that had somehow made their way to the fabled crossroads.
After two tunes, Tunng joined their touring partners on stage, greeting the audience with a very English “Hello”. Dressed in the traditional neo-folk outfit of hoodies, beards and long hair, Tunng now looked every bit as out of place as their African friends. It wasn’t until their first joint effort turned into a thumping rhythmic fusion that it all began to make sense.
Turning the tables, Tunng then took on the supporting role, infusing their trademark samples and wide variety of rhythms from the dedicated percussionist and his collection of noisy toys into Tinariwen’s sound. It also became apparent that the language barrier was much bigger than I had anticipated. Said was limited to an “Ok?!” and “Thank You!” after each song, but their enthusiasm and enjoyment of the occasion was evident. Dancing through Tunng’s numbers between fleeting bursts of backing vocals in their native tongue. The combination was a revelation, and at times it was difficult to pick out the invading party. However, a result of this was it was also difficult to pick out song titles.
That was until personal Tunng favourite ‘Jenny Again’, with its beautiful, harmonised vocals and offbeat lyrics about a Little Chef under the glittering lights of the warehouse’s mirror ball. It was at this point that I noticed how crystal clear the sound at this venue was, enhancing the experience no end. The only downside was the proximity of the bar, which at times distracted from the spectacle with the noise of impatient chatter.
This was only drowned out by another Tunng tune ‘Soup’ which is notable not only for having a one-word lyric, which I’m sure you could easily guess, but for bursting into a metal-esque rock breakdown after the intricately fingerpicked intro. “This one’s for all the desert metallers,” lead singer and guitarist Mike Lindsay joked, after revealing that despite Tinariwen’s nomadic looks, they could often be caught listening to AC/DC and Van Halen. The rock out culminated in a mini guitar battle between Mike and Said.
Finishing imperiously on Tunng’s ‘Bullets’, the group bounced around like loons, clearing relishing the collaboration and enjoying being on stage together for the final time. The addition of a French verse by the band’s guests was a nice touch before they were gratefully applauded off stage. The obligatory encore reinforced the mutual respect between the bands in the fruitful, if unexpected, link up that not only added to both bands’ songs, but created something genuinely new and exciting. If only an album was in the works.
Review – Ian Ravenscroft
Photos – Sophie Stern