Tinn tout

Album review

While maloya came out of hiding at the start of the 80s and spread throughout La Réunion - thanks to great singers like Firmin Viry and Granmoun Lélé - it was Danyel Waro who really made it take off. Thanks to him, this free-rhythmed creole blues has toured the planet, multiplying its followers as it goes. With his engaged, philosophy-tinged poetry, his warm voice and his great humanity, Waro has forever left his mark on maloya. Every time he releases a record it’s a big event and Tinn Tout is no exception. Tinn Tout, the name of both the album and its opening track, means ‘turn everything off’ - a plea against the madness inflicted by ultraliberalism and its environmental impact. On most of the songs, the quivering kayamb and the rumbling roulér (typical maloya percussion) establish the rhythms, over which Waro charms both spirits and the living with the help of his musicians: Mickaël Talpot (roulér), Bino Waro, the youngest of his sons, (sati-piker), Gilles Lauret (triangle and bass) and his old accomplice Laurent Dalleau (congas). On four songs, the maloya frenzy gives way to other genres. The heady, almost Jamaican bass on Santyé de Loz slows down the tempo while Daniel Singaïny plunges us into the atmosphere of a Tamil ceremony, a syncretic religion of Hinduism and Christianity, to which the titular Daniel introduces the singing Danyel. Then there's the a cappella version of Brassens’s Je me suis fait tout petit (I’ve made myself small) which emits a spiritual creole atmosphere. The album is surprising and moving in equal measure. Over the pulse of the bob (a musical bow) Waro overwhelms us with a heart-wrenching tribute to Dédé, a lost friend, musician, singer and brother-in-arms in defending their language. Yes, it is worth turning everything off to listen to this great, wise sage. © Benjamin MiNiMuM/Qobuz