:: Djan Djan - Djan Djan

Djan Djan

Spontaneous is a good word to describe Djan Djan. A musical medley by Mamadou Diabate, Bobby Singh and Jeff Lang, the album leaves you grasping for words after the first listen. There are no lyrics and no rhyme or reason as far as you can tell. It‘s only after the third or even fourth listen that it all dawns on you, enlightens you even, and you finally get the completely random but completely organic energy that pours out of this record. That may all sound completely hippie and foreign, but it's the only way this album can be put into words. Mamadou Diabate, Bobby Singh and Jeff Lang are all acclaimed musicians in their own right. Djan Djan is the result of a connection the three men discovered when they got together in a small music studio in Melbourne. The record only has three instruments: the kora, a mash-up between a harp and a lute played by Mali native Diabate, the guitar, played by Australian folk, country and blues performer Lang, and the tabla, a duo of drums that sounds very much like the bongos, played by Indian-born Singh. Now, that may inspire you to think this is a very boring album - no lyrics and only three instruments. How can anyone endure ten songs of that? But that's where you're wrong. Djan Djan is anything but boring. This trio is made up of masters in their field and they don't need words to create astonishingly beautiful and enchanting stories and weave them around the music. Take 'She Said She Felt Broken’. Spine tingling kora chords ring out of the stifling silence before Lang and Singh join to produce a haunting melody that almost leaves you in tears. You don‘t need someone singing cleverly constructed vocals to tell you about the pain and misery that surrounds 'She Said She Felt Broken’, Lang‘s guitar does it all and every note sings with such clarity that the emotion is impossible to miss. The power in 'Adventure’ is also impossible to miss. Once again Diabate‘s kora leads the charge plucking the strings with such speed that it resonates in your bones. Lang and Singh bring up the rear adding body to the track and takes you on a journey of raw majesty and eternal optimism. Admittedly many of the tracks on this album kinda sound the same. There's only so much you can do with three instruments and Diabate, Lang and Singh do it all in Djan Djan. You do appreciate the subtle differences however, like the happy notes in 'Spirit of Melbourne’ that ring out like a harp or the pensive undercurrent in ‘We Brought You Here’ and the trio never lose the striking emotion that's infused in every track. But it's probably not enough to win over anyone who isn't a diehard World Music fan. Everything about Djan Djan is evocative and progressive and completely crosses the boundaries of what we thought was possible with three instruments. This album has a hell of a lot of soul, but it's only ever going to appeal a small group of listeners who want heart and an earthiness in their music and don't mind the lack of lyrics.