MDOU MOCTAR

Moctar is all about getting the riffs in and these gallop along like a pair of blood-soaked horses making a break for it through the capital, and that, as a metaphor, dovetails fittingly with the political message at the core of 'Funeral For Justice' - it's as in your face and confrontational as the 6-string blasts roaring out of his amps.

The music is louder, faster, and more wild; the guitar solos are feedback-scorched and the lyrics are passionately political; nothing is held back or toned down. The songs on ‘Funeral For Justice’ speak unflinchingly to the plight of Niger and of the Tuareg people. "This album is really different for me," explains Moctar, the band’s singer, namesake, and indisputably iconic guitarist. "Now the problems of terrorist violence are more serious in Africa. When the US and Europe came here, they said they're going to help us, but what we see is really different. They never help us to find a solution." "Mdou Moctar has been a strong anti-colonial band ever since I've been a part of it," says producer and bassist Mikey Coltun, who has been playing with Moctar since 2017.

"France came in, fucked up the country, then said ‘you’re free.’ And they’re not." The song ‘Oh France’ tackles this head on: “France veils its actions in cruelty/ We are better without this turbulent relationship/ We must understand their endless lethal games.” On the lead single and title track, Moctar addresses African leaders directly, bidding them: "Retake control of your countries, rich in resources / Build them and quit sleeping”. The song ‘Sousoume Tamacheq’ deals with the plight of the Tuareg people to which the band belong, and who are mainly spread across three countries: Niger, Mali and Algeria."Oppressed in all three/In addition to lack of unity, ignorance is the third issue." Another song, ‘Imouhar’, calls on the Tuareg to preserve their Tamasheq language - it's at risk of dying out, and Mdou is one of the few in his community who knows how to write it. "People here are just using French," laments Mdou. "They're starting to forget their own language. We feel like in a hundred years no one will speak good Tamasheq, and that's so scary for us."